Claimed for the De Carrillo Twins

He thought again of her assertion that she loved the boys... He couldn’t countenance for a second that she loved these children who weren’t even her own flesh and blood.

A memory of his own mother came back with startling clarity—he’d been a young teenager and he’d confronted her one day, incensed on her behalf that his father had been photographed in the papers with his latest mistress.

She’d just looked at him and said witheringly, ‘The only mistake he made, Cruz, was getting caught. This is how our world works.’ She’d laughed then—nastily. ‘Dios mio, please tell me you’re not so naive as to believe we married because we actually had feelings for one another?’

He’d looked at his mother in shock. No, he’d never laboured under the misapprehension that any such thing as affection existed between his parents, but he’d realised in that moment that some tiny part of him that hadn’t been obliterated after years of only the most perfunctory parenting had still harboured a kernel of hope that something meaningful existed... Shame had engulfed him for being so naive.

She’d said then, with evident bitterness, ‘I was all but packaged up and sent to your father, because our two families belong to great dynasties and it was a strategic match. I did my duty and bore him a son, and I put up with his bastard son living under this very roof, and his mistresses—because, no matter what he does, this family’s legacy is safe with you, and I have ensured that. That is all that matters in this life Cruz. Cultivating our great name and protecting it. One of these days your father will die, and as far as I’m concerned it can’t come soon enough. Because then you will restore this family’s reputation and fortune. That is your duty and your destiny, above all else.’

She’d died not long after that speech. The memory of her had faded but her words hadn’t. Duty and destiny. There was no room for emotion, and he’d had to acknowledge the enormity of what he stood to inherit. He’d become a man that day, in more ways than one, leaving behind any childish vulnerabilities and misconceptions.

And because he’d stepped up to that responsibility he now had something solid to pass on to his nephews. They aroused something in him that he’d only felt before for Rio—an urge to protect and forge a bond. He’d become Rio’s guardian while he’d still been underage, and he wanted to do the same for his vulnerable nephews. He vowed now that they would not go the way of their father. By the time they came of age they would know how to handle their legacy...he would make sure of it.

When Cruz had realised that he hadn’t been named as guardian after Rio’s death he’d felt inexplicably hurt, even though he’d known that he was hardly in a position to take on two small children he barely knew. It had been like a slap from beyond the grave, and he’d had to wonder if the rapprochement he’d believed to be present in his relationship with Rio had actually been real.

Or, as he’d come to suspect, was it more likely to have been someone else’s influence?

Cruz had looked at Trinity, dressed in black on the other side of Rio’s grave at the funeral, as his brother had been lowered into the ground. Her face had been covered in a gauzy veil, her body encased in a snug-fitting black suit. And that was when he’d vowed to do whatever it took to make sure her influence over his nephews was thwarted. He wanted them under his protection—away from a gold-digging manipulator.

Suddenly an audacious idea occurred to him. He immediately thrust it aside—appalled that he’d even thought it. But it wouldn’t go away. It took root, and as he looked at it analytically it held a kind of horrific appeal.

He stared out over the gardens without really seeing them, and finally had to acknowledge grimly that there was really only one option where Trinity was concerned—but was he prepared to go to those lengths?

His gut answered him. Yes.

As if fate was contriving to make sure he didn’t have time to change his mind he heard a noise and turned around to see Trinity coming back into the room. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, but loose tendrils curled around her face. He noticed for the first time that there were delicate smudges of colour under her cornflower-blue eyes. Evidence of fatigue.

He ruthlessly pushed down a very curious sensation he’d never felt in relation to a woman before—and certainly not one he welcomed for this one: concern.

He faced her and saw how she tensed as she came towards him, folding her arms in a defensive gesture. Her chin tilting towards him mutinously.

With not a little relish, Cruz said, ‘I have a solution which I think will work for both of us, my nephews and Mrs Jordan.’

He could see Trinity’s arms tighten fractionally over her chest and he focused on her treacherously beautiful face. Even now she looked as innocent as the naive twenty-two-year-old who had come to work for him. Except, of course, she hadn’t been naive. Or innocent. And she was about to face the repercussions of her actions.

‘What solution?’

Cruz waited a beat and then said, very deliberately, ‘Marriage, Trinity. You’re going to marry me.’

CHAPTER THREE

FOR A MOMENT all Trinity heard was a roaring in her ears. She shook her head but Cruz was still looking at her with that expression on his face. Determined.

She asked weakly, ‘Did you just say marriage?’

‘Yes, I did.’

Trinity’s arms were so tight across her chest she was almost cutting off her air supply. ‘That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’ And yet why was there an illicit shiver deep in her belly at the thought of being married to this man?

Cruz started to stroll towards her and Trinity had a very keen sense that he was a predator, closing in on his prey.

‘Even though I know I’d win in a courtroom battle for the twins, I don’t really have the inclination to invite unnecessarily adverse PR in my direction by pitting myself against my brother’s widow. And from what I’ve seen it’s evident to me that Mateo and Sancho are clearly attached to you.’

‘Of course they are,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m all they’ve known as a mother since they were one.’

He stopped within touching distance and Trinity’s breath hitched at his sheer charisma. She forced herself to fill her lungs. She couldn’t afford to let him distract her.

‘Why on earth would you suggest marriage?’