A Deal Before the Altar

‘I can’t, Santos.’

‘Can’t what?’ His voice was hoarse and he tried to kiss her again.

‘This,’ she said, moving back from him. ‘We shouldn’t even be seeing one another tonight. It’s bad luck.’

CHAPTER SIX

SANTOS’S PULSE POUNDED in his head and a fire coursed through his veins which had little to do with the punishing early-morning run he’d just completed. After yet another night of trying to douse his need for Georgina he’d given up and, despite it being the morning of his wedding, had gone out to find some kind of release. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

How could one woman drive him to such distraction?

Refusing to explore the answer to that question, he returned to his villa. As he did so he heard female voices and knew that Señora Santana had arrived, along with the others, to do the bridal hair and make-up. He clenched his hands into fists, fighting hard against the urge to go to Georgina’s room, send everyone out and continue what she’d started last night—because start it she most definitely had.

Patience, he reminded himself, and headed for a cold shower instead. His run had not had the desired effect. Heady lust still throbbed through his veins and he knew of only one antidote for that—other than taking Georgina to his bed right now. Work. Once he’d showered he would shut himself in his office and work until lunchtime, when he would escort Georgina to the beach to become his wife.

An hour later he admitted it was impossible. The figures blurred before him and all he could think about was that kiss last night. At first so innocent and tender, then passion had taken over. Santos realised he’d been so consumed by need he’d behaved like a teenager, raging hormones taking control of his senses, rendering him completely under her spell.

Just as his father had been with Carlo’s mother.

That thought alone had the sobering effect he needed on his body. He could never allow himself to be at the mercy of a woman—wanting her so much that nothing else mattered. Not even his inheritance. He’d never wanted a serious relationship, and certainly didn’t want to get married, but his father’s interfering had changed that.

In a bid to divert his mind he turned to his laptop, scanning the business pages and the headlines from Spain and England before looking at the celebrity gossip columns. Sure enough, just as he’d expected, he and Georgina were featured leaving the party together. Speculation as to what would happen next had filled the columns for the last two days.

At least now nobody would think him grasping enough to marry purely for financial gain. That sort of reputation wouldn’t go down well when making business deals in the future. But if his business rivals thought he had a human side, one touched by love—whatever that was—they would be less guarded with him, giving him the edge he always sought.

He looked up at the clock on the wall. Eleven-thirty. Almost time to seal the hardest deal of his life. He turned off the laptop, put away his papers and headed back to his room to put on his suit.

As he fixed his cufflinks he looked in the mirror. Was he doing the right thing? He thought of the clause in the will, the need for an heir, and knew in that moment he should have told Georgina exactly what might be expected of her unless his legal team could find another way out. So why hadn’t he? Because he didn’t seriously think it would come to that when he was paying to find a solution. But then he hadn’t thought he’d ever have to marry either.

A knock at the door drew his attention and he strode over to open it, knowing he was to be given the message that she was ready. It was time to make Georgina his wife. Guilt shot through him. She didn’t know exactly what she’d signed up for. He had to tell her as soon as they were alone. Tell her that his mention of children in the prenuptial agreement might prove vital in the deal she’d come up with. Even he wasn’t that harsh. Despite everything, he still clung to the hope that it wouldn’t be necessary.

She was waiting for him on the terrace, but nothing could have prepared him for that moment if he’d spent several years organising it, instead of several days.

Georgina looked amazing.

Cream chiffon and silk encased her slender figure, but the slit in the floor-length dress drew his eye to her leg as she moved towards him. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a chignon and lace was attached to it, giving her a very Spanish air. The bodice of her dress clung to her breasts lovingly and on the single strap diamonds sparkled.

‘I trust this meets your requirements?’

Her chin lifted defiantly, and her voice was as sharp as a razor, but her eyes still blazed with the same desire he’d seen in them last night. Gone was the woman he’d held in his arms as the stars sparkled above them.