Claimed for the De Carrillo Twins

She sent it before she had time to change her mind, feeling giddy.

Ping.

Good.

Not knowing how to respond to that smug response, Trinity put the phone down and took a deep breath. Her phone pinged again and she jumped.

Cursing Cruz, she picked it up.

We’ll talk when I get back to the castillo.

The giddiness Trinity had been feeling dissipated like a burst balloon. She went cold. Of course they would talk. He’d had a chance to process what she’d told him now, and she could imagine that he didn’t appreciate her telling him those less than savoury things about Rio.

That wasn’t even the half of it. He didn’t know the full extent of just how much Rio had despised him.

Trinity wrote back.

Okay.

Cruz didn’t respond. She left the coffee untouched and put her arms around herself as the full enormity of what had happened the previous night sank in. She walked to the huge window in the living room and stared out, unseeing.

The prospect of Cruz going over what she’d told him and digging any deeper than he’d already done, finding out the true depth of hatred that Rio had harboured for him, made her go icy all over. She couldn’t do that to him.

And that was the scariest revelation of all. The intensity of the emotion swelling in her chest told her she was in deep trouble. The walls she’d erected around herself from a young age to protect herself in uncaring environments were no longer standing—they were dust.

First two small brown-eyed imps had burrowed their way in, stealing her heart, and now—

She put a hand to her chest and sucked in a pained breath. She could no longer claim to hate Cruz for what he’d done in forcing her into this marriage—if she ever truly had.

From the start she’d been infatuated with him, even after what she’d perceived to be his rejection of her. And then she’d seen a side to him that had mocked her for feeling tender towards him. But hadn’t he shown her last night that he could be tender? Achingly so.

And, as much as she was scared that he’d just spun her a line about there being no women since he’d kissed her, just to get her into bed, she realised that she did trust him. He was too full of integrity to lie about something like that. He didn’t need to.

And that left her teetering on the edge of a very scary precipice—although if she was brutally honest with herself she’d fallen over the edge a long time ago. Right about the time when Cruz had insisted on her going to bed so that he could sit up with the twins and she’d found herself yearning to be part of that tableau. A family...

She whirled away from the window, suddenly needing to leave and get back to the castillo—put some physical space between her and Cruz. One thing was uppermost in her mind—there couldn’t be a repeat of last night. She wasn’t strong enough to withstand Cruz’s singular devastating focus and then survive when he got bored or decided to move on—which he would undoubtedly do.

For the first time, shamefully, Trinity had to admit to feeling unsure of her ability to sacrifice her own desires for the sake of Matty and Sancho. And she hated Cruz for doing this to her. Except...she didn’t.

She loved them all and it might just kill her.

CHAPTER NINE

TRINITY HATED FEELING so nervous. She smoothed her hand down over the linen material of her buttoned shirt-dress. She’d changed after Julia had come to tell her that Cruz was back and wanted to see her.

She hated that she wondered if it was a bad omen that Cruz hadn’t come looking for her himself. If not for her, then for the boys, who’d been asking for him constantly.

Cursing her vacillation, she lifted her hand and knocked on his study door, feeling a sense of déjà-vu when she heard him say, ‘Come in.’

She went in and saw Cruz was behind the desk. He stood up, his gaze raking her up and down, making her skin tingle. She was conscious of her bare legs. Plain sandals. Hair tied back.

She closed the door behind her.

Cruz gestured to a chair. ‘Come in...sit down.’

His voice sounded rough and it impacted on her.

She walked over and took the seat, feeling awkward. Not knowing where to look but unable to look away from those spectacular eyes and that tall, broad body. Remembering how it had felt when he’d surged between her legs, filling her—