A Deal Before the Altar

‘Your plan is working.’ He leant down and whispered against her hair, the fresh scent of it invading his senses, making his pulse throb with unquenched desire.

She pulled back from him, confusion filling her eyes, her fingers clutching tightly to her glass. ‘It is?’

He heard the uncertainty in her voice and had the strangest desire to stroke his fingers down her cheek. An affectionate gesture he’d never normally think of making. Just what was it about this woman that stirred something unknown deep within him?

‘With your dedication to the role, how could anyone question what they are seeing?’ She turned away, exchanging her empty glass for another bubble-filled one.

The brittleness of her words reminded him just who he was dealing with. Georgina Henshaw was an avaricious woman who, with one marriage already behind her, could play his game with as much detachment as he employed.

He watched her beautiful yet emotionless face as she scanned the room, her eyes finally resting on her sister. With a sternness that would have become any teacher her gaze followed Emma as she moved across the room, until she nestled herself against his brother.

Unable to stop himself from watching the loving moment, he saw how his brother looked down at Emma. Saw the open adoration in the young woman’s eyes. Even as Carlo dipped his head and kissed her he couldn’t avert his gaze. Whatever it was between them was so powerful he felt it from the other side of the room. Just as he had done as a youth, when Carlo’s mother had first met his father, he felt excluded. It was almost as if he’d gone back in time, watching Carlo grow strong from his mother’s love while he could only look on.

‘They make a good couple, don’t they?’

Georgina’s words dragged him back from a past he rarely visited. For a moment he was disorientated.

‘They don’t have to marry to prove that.’

He couldn’t keep the harshness from his words. Beside him Georgina stiffened, as if she was taking a step back from him. He forced his mind to more pleasant thoughts—like the way the woman at his side stirred his desires like no other.

‘I hope you aren’t going back on our deal, Mr Ramirez?’

He deflected her sharp-toned words with a smile. ‘Santos,’ he said softly, placing his arm across her shoulders and pulling her body against his, relishing the warmth of it. ‘I think you should call me Santos. If you want this to work.’

He looked down into her upturned face. Her eyes darkened until they reminded him of the depths of a forest. Her full lips parted slightly and he felt the heavy tug of desire.

He wanted her.

Slowly he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. Her breath mingled with his, warming his mouth, and he imagined the sensation of her sighing in pleasure. This was going to be a very interesting night.

Briefly her lips responded. Softening beneath his. And his whole body suddenly ached for hers. It was stronger than the heady lust that usually coursed through his blood when he kissed a woman. This was potent. Vibrant and alive. It was more powerful than anything he’d known before.

* * *

Georgina’s body heated as his lips touched hers, the contact so light it almost didn’t happen. Involuntarily she closed her eyes as the liquid warmth of desire slid over her. She swayed closer to him, felt his arm, strong and firm, draw her closer.

She knew there and then that he had power over her. He had the ability to stir emotions she never again wanted to explore, and she would have to be on her guard.

Her fingers clutched the stem of the glass in her hand as she hardened herself against what she was feeling. This wasn’t for real. This was all an act. And if she didn’t keep that in mind she’d make a fool of herself, because at this moment in time she wanted nothing more than to be kissed by Santos.

Not this light, lingering kiss. After several years without experiencing the intimacy of any kiss she knew he’d awakened something deep within her. She wanted more. Her body hungered for passion. To her horror, she realised her body hungered for him.

But she couldn’t let that happen. She had to stay in control—not just of herself, but of the situation. Never could she allow herself to become a woman so desperate for love that she’d beg a man to stay, as her mother had done to her father. In Santos she recognised the same inability to commit to a relationship her father had possessed. He would be the worst man for her to give her heart to.

No, to allow Santos to know just how easily he could stir her hidden and unexplored desires would be fatal.

She pulled away from him and looked into his smouldering eyes. He was good. Nobody could question what he was thinking right now. He looked as if he wanted to ravish her right there in the middle of the party.