Claimed for the De Carrillo Twins

The stark realisation that he was following in his father’s footsteps in spite of every effort he’d made to remove the shadow of that man’s reputation had been sickening. He was no better after all.

He’d been harsh afterwards...angry at his reaction...demanding to know what she was doing there as if it had been her fault. He’d felt like a boor. Little had he known then that she’d obviously been waiting until he got home and had made sure he found her...

It was galling. A sign of weakness. Cruz scowled. Trinity had no power over his emotions. She represented a very fleeting moment in time when he’d forgotten who he was.

The reality of his situation hit him then—in marrying Trinity he was consigning himself to a life with a woman he would never trust. But the sacrifice would be worth it for his nephews’ sake.

At least now she was under his control and his watchful eye.

He’d felt anything but watchful earlier, though, when she’d turned to face him in that sterile register office and everyone had waited for their kiss. He’d had no intention of kissing her—it would show her how it would be between them. And prove that he could control himself around her... But for a split second his gaze had dropped to that lush mouth and every cool, logical intention had scattered, to be replaced with an all too familiar desire just to take one sip, one taste...

So he’d bent his head, seeing the flash of surprise in her eyes, and touched his mouth to hers. And he’d felt her breath whisper over his mouth. It had taken more effort than he liked to admit to pull back and deny himself the need he’d had to take her face in his hands, angle her mouth for better access so he could explore her with a thoroughness that would have made him look a complete fool...

Cruz only became aware that he was being watched when the hairs went up on the back of his neck, and he turned his head from brooding out of the small window. He had to adjust his gaze down to see that one of his nephews—he couldn’t tell which—was standing by his chair with small pudgy hands clutching the armrest.

For a second time was suspended, and his mind went blank. Two huge dark eyes stared up at him guilelessly. Thick, dark tousled hair fell onto a smooth forehead and the child’s cheeks were flushed. Something that looked like mashed carrot was smeared around his mouth. And then he smiled, showing a neat row of baby teeth. Something gripped Cruz tight in his chest, throwing him back in time to when he’d looked at an almost identical child, six years his junior.

‘Matty, don’t disturb your uncle.’

That low, husky voice. Gently chiding. Two slender pale hands came around his nephew to lift him up and away. Trinity held him easily with one arm, against her body. The small face showed surprise, and then started to contort alarmingly just before an ear-splitting screech emerged.

Cruz noted that she looked slightly frayed at the edges. Her hair was coming loose and she had smears of food on her jacket. He looked down and saw pale bare feet, nails painted a delicate shade of coral, and he felt a surge of blood to his groin. Immediately he scowled at his rampant reaction and Trinity backed away.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise he’d slipped out of his chair.’

She was turning to walk back down the plane when Cruz heard himself calling out, ‘Wait.’

She stopped in her tracks and Cruz saw Mrs Jordan hurrying up the aisle, reaching for Mateo to take him from Trinity. The indignant shouting stopped as the older woman hushed him with soothing tones.

Trinity turned around and Cruz felt something pierce him as he acknowledged that, inconvenient wedding or not, most brides were at least given a meal before being whisked away after their nuptials.

They’d gone straight from his solicitor’s office, where Trinity had signed the pre-nuptial agreement, to the register office and then to the plane. He’d expected her to pore over the pre-nuptial agreement, but she’d just glanced through it and then looked at him and said, ‘If we divorce then I lose all custody of the boys, is that it?’

He’d nodded. Aware of his body humming for her even while they were surrounded by his legal team. She’d just muttered something under her breath like, Never going to happen, and signed. Cruz had had to include some kind of a severance deal for her if they divorced, so Trinity would always be a wealthy woman, but he knew she could have fought him for a better deal.

So why hadn’t she? asked a voice, and Cruz didn’t like the way his conscience smarted. He wasn’t used to being aware of his conscience, never doubting himself in anything—and he wasn’t about to start, he told himself ruthlessly. For all he knew Trinity’s actions thus far were all an act to lull him into a false sense of security.

‘Have you eaten yet?’ he asked abruptly, irritated that she was making him doubt himself.

She looked at him warily and shook her head as she tucked some hair behind her ear. ‘I’ll eat when the boys have eaten.’

Cruz gestured to the seat across the aisle from him. ‘Sit down. I’ll get one of the staff to take your order.’ He pressed the call button.

Trinity looked towards the back of the plane for a moment. Her visible reluctance was not a reaction he was used to where women were concerned.

‘Sit before you fall. They’re fine. And we have some things to discuss.’

She finally sat down, just as an attentive air steward appeared and handed her a menu. Trinity’s head was downbent for a moment as she read, and Cruz found it hard to look away from that bright silky hair.

* * *

When the air steward had left Trinity felt uncomfortable under Cruz’s intense gaze. It was as if he was trying to get into her head and read her every thought. Just the prospect of that made her go clammy—that he might see the effect his very chaste kiss had had on her.

In a bid to defuse the strange tension, she prompted, ‘You said we have things to discuss...?’

Cruz blinked and the intensity diminished. Trinity sucked in a breath to acknowledge how attuned she felt to this man. It was disconcerting—and unwelcome.

‘As soon as you’re settled at the castillo I’ll organise interviews for another nanny to help Mrs Jordan. You’re going to be busy as my wife.’