He had eyes only for Lucas. “Get your hands off her,” he growled.
“Jake,” Lucas said solemnly, “my friend—”
Jake grabbed Cat’s wrist, swung her away from Lucas.
“Don’t give me that ‘friend’ crap. I trusted you, you bastard. You said you understood Catarina was—”
“It’s you who doesn’t understand, Jake.” Lucas cleared his throat. “I have asked Catarina to be my wife.”
Jake blinked. How could things have moved so fast? “What?”
“She explained it all to me. I know that she must marry to gain her inheritance.”
Jake looked at Cat. “You told him everything? You didn’t wait to talk to me?”
“Why would I wait?” Her voice was a little shaky but her tone was defiant. “What is there to talk about?”
She was right. But so what? What did being right have to do with the growing knot of rage in Jake’s gut?
“And?” he said, trying to sound calm. “He agreed to the terms?”
Cat caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yes, but not—not quite the way you’d planned.”
Jake turned toward Lucas. “She needs to marry a Brazilian,” he said, as if perhaps Catarina hadn’t actually gone into the details.
“Yes. I understand that.”
“A man of good character.”
Lucas stood a little taller. “I am an attorney, a member of the trade delegation to the Embassy, and I am from an old and respected family.”
“Did she tell you the rest? That the man who marries her must agree to a marriage in name only?”
/> Lucas’s mouth twisted. “So Catarina said.”
“And to an immediate divorce?”
“Yes.”
The anger inside Jake began to ease. “And you’ve agreed to all that?”
“For a consideration.”
“Okay. Fine.” He forced a smile. “I knew you’d want that property in—”
“What I want,” Lucas said quickly, “is the right to try and convince Catarina that our marriage should not be a temporary union.”
Jake narrowed his eyes. “The lady’s not interested.”
“I’ve told her that I care for her, that I am sure she will learn to care for me, and that I want her to be my wife in fact, not only in name.”
“Maybe you have a hearing problem, Estero. I just told you, the lady isn’t—”
Lucas took Cat’s hand. “Why not let her speak for herself?”
“I’m speaking for her,” Jake said coldly. “She’s my ward.”
“She’s not your ward, Jake. Not in the true sense of the word.”