Revelations of His Runaway Bride

Christo’s jaw clenched hard. The party carried on around them. Champagne flowed. Such a celebration. And yet there was nothing to celebrate at all.

‘My father should have learned. But, no. On a quest for the love of a woman he looked in the wrong place. Again.’

‘Where was your mother?’

‘Long gone. With a flamenco dancer, I believe.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘My birth was a cunningly laid trap to secure my father’s fortune, since he wouldn’t have any bastardos walking the streets. They married, I was born, it ended—although they never divorced. She came back occasionally, when his purse strings were pulled too tight. He adored her, despite everything. I suspect he still does. But love makes fools of men.’

Thea knew now why Christo didn’t believe in love. What kind of example had either of them been set? Both had been trapped in broken, hateful families.

‘I’m sorry.’

Christo shook his head, his mouth twisted in a sneer of disgust. ‘Hector always sought replacements to fill the hole my mother left. It was as if his only son didn’t matter. He became involved with an antiquities dealer. Beautiful, exotic. He threw away a fortune on priceless treasures for her. The business suffered as my father ignored it. That’s why he had to go begging to your father—to hide his humiliation. I found out too late.’

He looked around the room, hard lines of rage bracketing his mouth. ‘Then I discovered some of the objects he’d purchased had been illegally obtained. I suspect from shipments of looted items. That alone could have ruined us. I’d like to believe my father didn’t know, but the fool would have done anything for the alluring Miss Carvallo.’

Thea’s heart rate spiked. She knew that name. ‘Ramona Carvallo?’

Christo’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yes.’

‘I think I’ve met her—at my father’s home.’

He reached up his hand, sliding it through her hair to cup the back of her neck. His thumb traced a gentle line along her jaw, forcing her to look at him. Deep into the green storm of his eyes. He moved his head towards her, leaned down, his lips to her ear. And Thea’s eyes drifted shut at the light brush of his warm breath on her skin.

‘Look over my shoulder at the woman in the corner of the room. Purple dress. Do you recognise her?’

Thea didn’t want to wake from this dream where they meant something to each other. She relished the intimacy even if its purpose was serious. Still, she did as he asked.

When her eyes focused, she saw her. ‘Ramona Carvallo,’ she whispered.

Christo’s lips began drifting a fiery path down her neck. She sighed and melted into the heat of him. What they were doing might be hiding the true purpose of this conversation, but she craved every inch of his body melded against hers.

‘Why invite her here?’ she asked. Having this woman in his home might only inflame the very scandal he was trying to avoid.

Christo pulled back, his pupils dark, his breathing heavy. Matching hers. She regretted the broken intimacy.

‘Raul’s organising security,’ he said. ‘His operatives are in the crowd...watching.’

‘What for?’

‘Your father used information about the smuggled objects as leverage against my father—the risk of disgrace, jail... I wondered how your father had found out about them. I suspect Tito and Ramona were working together. I want to see if your father reacts to her. People make mistakes. Especially arrogant, entitled people. I’m relying on it happening here.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’

‘Then it won’t change anything you and I have agreed.’

That was the least of her worries. She realised now the reason why he’d been working those long hours. The parties, the meetings...what he’d required of her. He wasn’t only inheriting the company. He was saving it.

‘I also hope to find out whether your father purchased an

ything questionable.’

‘So you can use it against him like he did to Hector?’

‘To stop him stealing Atlas? Yes.’

Could her father have bought illegal objects to add to his collection? Whilst she wasn’t aware he’d ever actually broken the law, she wouldn’t put it past him. He believed himself to be above everyone else. And after all he’d done to her she’d give anything to stop her father taking what wasn’t his.

‘He owns a vast collection of old things,’ she said.