The Brazilian's Blackmailed Bride

‘I don’t suppose you do,’ he replied, still smiling as he rid himself of his cup.

Cristina did the same at that exact moment, and their arms brushed. It was like making contact with a live wire. Sparks shot through his body, then gathered at his loins. Anton sat back very slowly. Cristina simply froze. It was getting worse. Maybe the bed option before the business one was the right way to go, he considered wryly.

Cristina pulled in a deep breath. What was the matter with her? Why was she feeling like this? For six years she had kept all her emotions firmly under wraps. Then Luis walked back into her life and suddenly she was finding she could not control anything.

‘Anton—’ she burst out. ‘Can we—?’

‘Small hint, querida,’ he interrupted. ‘When the only thing you’ve got going for you is the intimacy of a name, then use it. Anton is a ruthless bastard. You really do need to keep him out of this as much as you possibly can.’

‘And who is Luis? Anton’s nice, kind alter ego?’

‘His sexual ego,’ he enlightened her. ‘Luis is sitting here aching to strip you naked and sink himself so deep inside you he will never find his way out. Anton aches to see you stripped of everything but the clothes on your back.’

‘A no-win situation, then.’ She sank back into the chair in a helpless gesture.

‘That depends on what you want out of this.’

I want you to look at me with those eyes lighting with the flames of love like they used to, Cristina thought helplessly.

‘Your help,’ was what she said. ‘I want you to help me save my home.’

‘That’s it?’

Pressing her lips together, she nodded.

‘At any price?’

‘Almost any price,’ she modified, with a nervous touch of her tongue to her suddenly dry upper lip.

He said nothing for so long that Cristina was forced into looking at him. He was staring at her mouth. Her heart gave a thump; lips he’d brutally kissed not that many minutes ago began to reheat. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t. She wanted him to say something but he still didn’t speak. The heavily laden silence began to weave around her like a silken web. He was so beautiful, her Luis. So—

‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘Then let us see if we can find the ceiling on your almost any price.’

Hooking out another chair from beneath the table, he lowered his long frame into it. ‘This is how things stand for you, Cristina, and it isn’t good,’ he warned. ‘The Alagoas Consortium have decided to fight dirty. They are in the process of trying to buy your mortgages, plus all the other debts you’ve managed to incur. If they succeed they will turf you out of Santa Rosa without giving you a chance to catch your breath.’

‘You said you would help.’

‘But on my terms, querida. And non-negotiable terms at that.’

The almost test. She could hear it coming. ‘What kind of terms?’ she asked huskily.

‘A large stake in Santa Rosa.’

Cristina nodded, having expected to hear him say that.

‘Full control over how the money I invest is spent.’

That brought her chin up. ‘You know nothing about farming!’

Green eyes glinted. ‘But my future wife does.’

Future wife—? It had not occurred to her that he might be getting married! Jolted into a reaction, she felt her backbone tense and jumped to her feet.

‘You will not bring another woman into Santa Rosa, Luis!’ she spat at him angrily. ‘I would rather take my chances with the Alagoas Consortium than let you!’

His hand closing around her wrist silenced her. ‘Your tantrums used to turn me on, Cristina. Now they do not. You are badly used goods, querida, wearing a badly used suit which makes you even less appealing. So try at the very least to find a little dignity. Sit down again and listen,’ he instructed icily.

Cristina sat, slaughtered by his brutal opinion of her. Letting go of her wrist, Anton sat back.