After the initial shock of being at the centre of everyone’s speculation she’d soon realised it provided a wall to hide behind.
‘I found out very quickly that seeing a man once or twice only was the best way.’ Let him think the worst of her. She had other worries right now. Besides, if he believed that of her it would keep him at arm’s length—something she had to do now no matter what. She couldn’t dwell on the closeness they’d shared.
Santos’s brow furrowed. ‘Best way for what?’ The words snapped from him.
‘For doing what you do,’ she flung at him as another rumble of thunder, just as intense, reverberated around the room. ‘For keeping the world at bay, keeping the gossips with something to get their teeth into, because ultimately it meant I could be on my own. I never wanted to be married the first time and I certainly don’t want to be married now.’
She flopped down onto the sofa, unable to fight any longer. Remaining indifferent to what was being said about her and the shock of what Emma had done was finally too much.
How could her sister have said nothing? How could she have sneaked away the moment she’d left for Spain? It was a complete and utter betrayal. Emma had as good as thrown everything she’d ever done for her back in her face.
Santos walked across the marble floor. A hint of softness entered his tone as he crouched before her, forcing her to look into his eyes. ‘Then why offer yourself to me?’
She swallowed down the urge to cry, to collapse into an emotional heap, and looked into his eyes. Their dark depths were almost unreadable. He was so close, and the spark of attraction passing between them was as strong as ever, but she mustn’t let that cloud her mind and muddle her judgement.
‘Why, Georgina?’ he prompted, his voice a little firmer, and she realised the anger she’d seen in him earlier was still simmering beneath the surface.
She took a breath to tell him what she’d just learnt, but couldn’t. The look in his glittering eyes halted those words
‘For Emma,’ she began, trying to put off the moment just a little longer. ‘She believes in the dream of love, the happy-ever-after, and it’s Carlo—your brother—who is that dream for her. When she told me about the will it seemed the most obvious deal to make. I’d married for convenience for Emma’s benefit once before. I could do it again.’
Georgina was emotionally wrung out, but she had to tell him. She didn’t want to—didn’t want to rouse his anger—but she knew she had to. She couldn’t keep it from him. He had a right to know.
‘They are already married.’
The words were out before he had a chance to say anything.
He studied her for a moment, crouching in front of her as if he was talking to a child, making her think he’d be good with children. An image of her holding a baby with Santos’s dark eyes and complexion rushed into her mind, not for the first time in recent days, but she pushed it harshly away. Marrying him was one thing, but she’d never have his child. She could never have a child, full-stop. She didn’t want to risk being as useless as her own mother.
‘When did you know?’ His words, although cajoling, still reverberated with anger.
She looked down at the phone she still clutched in her hand and sighed. ‘Minutes ago.’
Betrayal ripped through her again at the thought of what Emma and Carlo had done, but she knew Emma would never have done it alone—never.
‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispered, more to herself than Santos.
‘They married on Saturday.’
He stood up and looked down on her, his height making her feel small, his words like hailstones raining down on her. Another rumble of thunder followed, echoing his anger.
‘Saturday?’ She blinked back tears as she thought of Emma getting married whilst she’d been flying out to Spain. Then it hit her. ‘That means Carlo married first.’
He nodded, folding his arms across his chest once more.
‘So our marriage was for nothing. Carlo inherits the business and I miss the biggest day of my sister’s life.’ She wanted to jump up, to stand and face him, but her knees were too weak so she just buried her face in her hands.
What was she going to do now? Santos probably thought she’d conspired with them to outsmart him. There was only one thing she could do. Go home. Get far away from Santos.
‘I’ll go and pack,’ she said, finally finding the strength to stand as another rumble filled the room, this time sounding as if it was finally receding.
‘No.’
Santos grabbed her arm as she made to leave and she looked up into his face. A small part of her wanted to see the gentleness she’d seen on their wedding night. She wanted to feel as special as he’d made her feel that night. But instead his eyes were brittle with hardness.