The Spaniard's Stolen Bride - Page 10

“That’s all.”

“And if I tell him to come rescue me?”

“To what end?”

She looked defeated by that and took the phone. He had dialed his brother, and she put it to her ear. “Matías? I’m so glad I reached you.”

He could hear the intonation of his brother’s voice on the other end. Angry. “I can’t say.” He didn’t know what she couldn’t say, but her blue eyes went to his for a moment, then away again just as quickly.

“I’m not injured. I’m perfectly safe. In fact, I need for you to stop looking for me.” She squared her shoulders, her posture determined. “I didn’t mean to deceive you, and I never meant to hurt you in any way. But I cannot marry you because Diego is the man I really want. I left with him of my own free will. The only reason that I screamed is because he startled me. But it was always my intention to waste your time and make it difficult for you to complete your task, and then marry him. I was not kidnapped. You don’t need to look for me.”

His heart was pounding heavily. She didn’t need to say that to his brother, and he wondered why she did. Why she was changing the story like this.

“It’s okay, Matías. Truly. I regret my behavior, but there is nothing to be done. Diego and I have already married. And that means... You know what that means. All of it will be his. If you fail to marry, then all of it will be his. It’s too late. We have paperwork. Everything is legally binding. We’re married. It’s too late.”

He watched her face closely, looking for any hint of regret. But there was one thing he came to be certain about as he stood there watching as she broke the news to her former fiancé. She did not love him.

And why he should care about that he didn’t know. But he did.

When she was finished, he took the phone from her.

“That was terrible,” she said.

“Is he heartbroken?”

“No. Of course not. Matías is a good man but I doubt him any more capable of love than you are, to be quite honest.”

“Why do you suppose that?”

“I don’t know. It’s a feeling I have. He treated me like a baby duckling. Like he wanted to place me in a nest safely somewhere. He did not want to love me.”

“I don’t see you as a baby duckling,” he said. “And I do not want to place you in a nest.”

No, he wanted to place her on his bed, lay her on the soft mattress and lick her from her delicate ankles all the way to her sensitive neck. He did not want to protect her. He wanted to defile her.

But he kept that to himself.

“Happy days for me,” she said dryly.

“Why did you lie to him?” he asked.

She looked bleak. “I want control of what little I can get. I don’t want to be a victim. I don’t want to be a woman who was sold into marriage or fought over by two brothers. If it makes the news, and it will, given who my father is and who the both of you are... I’d rather be seen as a vixen.” Her mouth curved upward slightly. “I’d rather be a player in the story, rather than a pawn. I am so very sick of being a pawn.”

Nothing much burned his conscience. But that did.

“You have free rein of the house,” he said. “You may do whatever you wish. There’s a library, as we discussed last night. The grounds are yours to wander. There is no method of escape, so you can forget that.”

He didn’t want her falling to her death from one of the rocky cliffs in a desperate bid for too much freedom. It was difficult to gauge just how sick of being a pawn she was.

“We have a deal,” she said. “Whatever I think of it. Whatever I think of you... I gave you my word.”

“Yes. And I have offered you a lot of money.”

“I’m not going to try to leave.”

“I have some business to attend to,” he said abruptly, not releasing her hand, leading her back into the house. “I am very sorry that you do not have a grand reception. However, you will find there are some freshly made pastries in the kitchen. I shall meet you tonight for dinner.”

And with that, he led them both into the house, and left her standing in the entry. He could feel those ice-blue eyes on his back as he walked away.

He knew that she had expected him to play the part of the villain. That she had expected him to be the marauder who demanded his husbandly rights.

He smiled. All the better for delaying gratification. If she wanted him to make things easier for her by taking the choice away... She would be sadly disappointed.

She would come to him of her own free will. More than that, she would be trembling with desire by the time she did.

There were few things he understood about himself right now. But this... This made sense to him.

And more than that, the very idea of her begging him...

It was a delicious temptation he had not imagined he could feel. Until Liliana, life had been distinctly boring. He felt like he’d had nothing to look forward to. And then he’d met her.

Suddenly he’d wanted.

Prolonging that want—this pain, this need in his gut—it was such a novelty that he found it almost enjoyable.

Of course, the truly enjoyable part would be when she was on her knees in front of him.

He was happy to wait for that moment.

CHAPTER SIX

LILIANA FELT A sense of disquiet that lingered for the entire day. She had expected him to... Well, after the wedding, she had expected him to take his rights. She had told him that she would sleep with him. She had expected he would see to that sooner rather than later. She certainly hadn’t expected to be left to her own devices for the entire day.

Her wedding outfit had been... It had been nearly obscene. The way that the jewels and the flesh-colored netting at the top had only just covered her breasts, and the tiny pair of white panties that had been provided for her... It all seemed like she was being made into the perfect virgin sacrifice for him. Surely, he had been intending to see that underwear, or he would not have chosen it.

Her cheeks heated just thinking about it.

She had been so certain. So very certain.

But no. He hadn’t demanded anything. Not at all. And why she still had those panties on, and a matching white lace bra, now beneath a rather slinky emerald green dress, she didn’t know.

But perhaps he would want to consummate after dinner.

She shifted restlessly just thinking about it.

She had had a great many hours to wonder what that would be like. To go from trying very hard not to think about sex with Matías to thinking a bit too hard about sex with Diego.

The fact of the matter was she’d wondered about it from the first moment she’d met him. Before she had found out her father had planned on marrying her off to Diego’s brother.

The connection she felt with him had been instant. Electric and unlike anything she’d ever felt before. So yes, she had thought about his hands. Rough and large, and she had pondered what it would feel like to have them skim over her skin. Yes, she had more than pondered it. Even now, even now that he had proved to be—whatever he was—her body responded to him. It couldn’t be helped.

It also scared her.

She felt like she was waiting for a lion to come eat her.

Now she was meeting him for dinner, and she thought she might crawl out of her skin. She was going to have to sit there at the table with him and wonder... Wonder if they would be together like that in only forty-five minutes.

She licked her lips and shifted again, making her way down the stairs and heading toward the dining area.

The house was beautifully appointed, and the food was delicious. Liliana had led a privileged life. Had never wanted for beautiful things or delicious foods. But there was something different about being here with Diego. About being in this house where there was no one else, and yet somehow there seemed to be limitless

freedom. She had eaten delicious, flaky pastries for breakfast and lunch, had read an extremely sensual book she’d found in the library, and had thought about doing each and every one of the things on those pages with her captor.

He was the one that made it feel like she was on the verge of something reckless. She might be under his lock and key, but the fact of the matter was as rebellions went...

Diego was going to teach her things about life, about her body, about being a woman, that no one else ever had. And that was where the sense of freedom lay. She would no longer be innocent. No longer be cosseted.

She would... She would know.

When she walked into the dining room, he wasn’t there.

But there was a spread on the table that was like something out of a fantasy. And, as there was still no staff anywhere that she had seen, it appeared that it had been brought by magic.

There was an array of breads, thin slices of meat and cheese, crackers and fruits. Two terrines filled with soup, a large bowl full of paella and two glasses that were already full of wine. It all looked too beautiful to touch. She wandered down to the end of the table, looking over the spread. Her stomach growled, and she found that the breads from earlier were no longer substantial enough. Not as she stared down at this.

But then, there was the insistent, uncomfortable gnawing in her stomach over what might take place after the meal.

She sat quickly, taking the seat to the right of the one at the head of the table. It was natural for her to do. Her father always sat at the head of the table, and she knew well enough to know that was not her place.

Tags: Maisey Yates Billionaire Romance
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