The Brazilian's Blackmailed Bride

The letter changed hands, then the young man bowed politely, turned, and walked out of the room.

Everyone else had gone silent. Anton smiled as he split the seal.

‘What is it?’ Cristina was suddenly at his elbow—clinging to it.

Without saying a word he handed her the

envelope while he opened the single sheet of paper that had been inside. He could sense her puzzlement, her growing confusion.

‘Looks good, hmm?’ he prompted. ‘Cristina Vitória de Marques Scott-Lee.’

‘But it says care of you.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

Anton did. He handed her the letter. ‘Wedding present,’ he explained.

She read, then had to re-read what was written before it finally began to sink in. Then one of those pained little whimpers broke from her throat as she spun around.

‘Rodrigo—’ She held the letter out to her lawyer with trembling fingers. ‘Please explain this to me!’

Rodrigo glanced at Anton, took the letter, glanced at it, then handed it back again. ‘It’s quite clear, minha amiga,’ he said. ‘On marrying Senhor Scott-Lee you became one of the three beneficiaries of the estate of the late Enrique Ramirez. That makes you a very wealthy woman,’ he added gravely.

‘But how—why?’ she demanded in complete bewilderment.

‘By default,’ the lawyer provided.

‘I didn’t want it,’ Anton put in.

Cristina turned wide, horror-filled eyes on him. ‘But, Luis, this belongs to you. I don’t want it!’

‘Don’t say that,’ he groaned. ‘I’ve banked everything on you accepting it.’

Then he banded his arms around her so he could lift her off the ground and carry her away from the wedding group to a quiet corner of the room. Their faces were level—just how he liked it. He pressed small smiling kisses to her worried mouth as he walked.

‘You are beautiful. I adore you. And you are going to be such a wealthy wife too.’

‘Did you know this was going to happen?’ she demanded, between the kisses.

‘Of course.’ He lowered her feet to the floor.

‘Then why are you happy?’

‘Because, minha esposa bonita, I get to have my cake and eat it.’ He kissed her again.

‘Talk sense to me!’ Cristina snapped, prising their mouths apart.

‘I never wanted Enrique’s money, but I did want to meet my two half-brothers,’ he informed her, more seriously.

‘I still don’t understand,’ she sighed.

‘It’s simple—stop glaring at me. Enrique demanded certain—things from me before I could meet my half-brothers.’

‘A wife and a baby,’ she whispered bleakly.

‘No, querida,’ Anton said gently. ‘He demanded I take you as my wife and we produce a baby—no, don’t look sad again,’ he chided. ‘This is not a sad occasion, I promise you. Enrique was a cruel bastard, but I think he must have known that we would not be able to fulfil his demands. I hate having to do it, but I will even say that he planned things to conclude this way.’

Cristina crossed her arms. ‘I wish I knew what this conclusion is that you keep walking circles around!’

‘You and me finding each other, ending up here like this,’ Anton explained. ‘He wanted me to dance to his tune. He wanted me to fight tooth and nail to marry you, but he didn’t want me to do that while still lying to myself that I was only marrying you to fulfil his wishes and not my own. And here is his cruelty, cara. He built a knockback into his plans to force me to face myself.’ Anton grimaced. ‘He didn’t need to do that. I’d faced what I still felt for you within the first twenty-four hours of seeing you again.’