‘Georgie?’
She looked slowly up at him, remembering the need to act like a real bride, and smiled. He smiled back. A smile that reached into the dark depths of his eyes, melting her from the inside out.
He took her hands in his and spoke in Spanish to her. She had no idea what he was saying, what he was doing. Everything seemed unreal. Then he slid a gold ring on her finger, repeating the words in English, and she realised he was doing exactly what she should be. Acting.
Panic raced through her. She didn’t have a ring for him. Should she have got one? A polite cough at her side caught her attention and Raul handed her a ring, his smile full of charm. She smiled and turned back to Santos, slid the ring onto his finger and repeated the words that bound them legally in a marriage neither wanted.
Moments later Santos covered her lips with his, almost knocking the air from her as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. She should resist, but sparks took off inside her like New Year’s Eve fireworks and she wound her arms about his neck. It was as if the desire of last night still simmered.
Just as suddenly as the kiss had begun it ended, and Santos pulled away from her, but he kept her hand in his as he thanked Raul, his friend and the minster. Spanish flowed around her and all she could do was stand and wait, trying to come to terms with what she’d done.
It’s for Emma. Just as it was last time.
‘Now it is time for us.’ Santos returned his attention back to her, his dark eyes sparking with fire.
‘Us?’ she asked as she watched the three people who’d witnessed her marriage walk back across the beach.
‘Sí.’ He dropped a kiss lightly on her nose and she blinked in shock at the affectionate gesture. ‘We have to have at least a few days for our honeymoon before we return to London.’
Honeymoon.
Had he gone mad?
‘Is that really necessary?’ She couldn’t believe he was serious. ‘We’re married now. You’ve got your business. Can’t we just go back and tell Emma and Carlo they can get married?’
‘This was your idea, Georgina. You wanted to make it look as real as possible.’ He frowned and looked down at her, his hand still clasping hers.
‘I only wanted our names on a marriage certificate. I didn’t want all this acting.’ She should never have hoped to change things so late in the day. Not when she was dealing with a man like Santos.
His dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘You wanted authenticity and you’ve damn well got it.’
He let go of her hand and stepped back from her, then turned and walked back to the villa. She watched him go, just as she’d watched her father go all those years ago.
What was she doing? She couldn’t stay on the beach—an abandoned bride for all to see. Propelled into action, she kicked off her sandals, picked them up and marched after him. They’d been married for only a matter of minutes and were already arguing. Surely that would make him see they needed to go their separate ways?
‘Okay,’ she said as she caught up with him, injecting as much ferocity as she could into her voice. ‘We’ll have the honeymoon. But once Emma and Carlo get married this farce ends.’
‘Farce?’
He stopped and turned to face her. The fury in his face served only to increase her need to keep what she really felt for him concealed.
Without warning he pulled her into his arms, his lips claiming hers in a demanding and hungry kiss, weakening her body so that she could barely stand. She wanted to respond, wanted to take the pleasure his lips promised, but instead she reminded herself it wasn’t real. None of it was. At least not for him.
His hands pressed her ever closer to him, until she had no doubt that although the marriage wasn’t real his desire for her was. Her lips parted and his tongue plundered her mouth, entwining with hers in an erotic dance, making her sigh with pleasure.
Heaven help her, she wanted more. She wanted this man in a way she’d never wanted a man before.
He pulled back from her, his breathing deep and ragged. ‘Now, deny that, Mrs Ramirez. Deny that you want me. Deny what your body tells me.’
‘This wasn’t supposed to happen.’ Her lips were bruised and her body trembled with unquenched desire as she looked into his eyes, seeing sparks of passion within their depths.
‘Come,’ he demanded as he took her hand, and the gentleness of yesterday was gone.
Was he about to drag her to his room, take her to his bed? Excitement fizzed in her veins, only to be replaced by disappointment as he walked straight through the villa and out to his car.
‘Where are we going?’
He opened the door of the car for her and she got in, hampered by the silk and chiffon of her dress. Mesmerised, she watched his hands expertly gather the silk skirt and bundle it into the car, his fingers brushing against her bare leg where the gown so daringly parted. She shivered as their eyes met. Their gazes remained locked; his hand rested on her leg.