“You once asked what kind of man I was, Chloe.” He smoothed his thumb over her swollen mouth. “And what did I tell you?”
She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering with unease. “The kind who always gets what he wants.”
“Yes. And I want you. I will not force you into marriage, I will give you a choice. The choice to be my wife and mother of my child, or the choice to leave both of our lives the moment he is born.”
She made a cry of shock, and when her legs seemed to crumple, he tightened his hold on her, keeping her upright.
“You lie, that is no choice!”
Helplessness and desolation swept across her face; being married to him must’ve been the worst fate she could imagine. Andrés’s gut twisted with an emotion he refused to analyze.
“Make your decision, Chloe.”
She closed her eyes and let out a sob. She dipped her head slightly, and whispered, “I will marry you.”
Chloe could almost convince herself it was a dream. That at any moment she would wake up to find she really wasn’t in a courthouse in Gibraltar getting married.
Because this was not at all how she’d envisioned her wedding day. The room nearly empty, wearing a peach-colored dress, with a groom who seemed to be looking straight through her.
She repeated her vows woodenly, almost numb at this point from being rushed into wedlock with Andrés. She bit her tongue to keep the hysterical laugh from escaping. Blackmailed, really. He’d given her no choice.
The tender and compassionate Andrés she’d come to love was gone and replaced with the man who’d forced her to leave America and come back to Spain. He was bitter, angry, mistrusting.
Though if she was honest with herself, she could admit there was a part of her so deeply in love with him, it had been easier to simply surrender to his demands. To almost pretend they could be like any normal husband and wife.
But there was nothing normal about this marriage. In Andrés’s eyes it was nothing more than a business contract—another acquisition to his name.
She started when Andrés slid a ring onto her finger, a traditional gold band with an enormous princess cut diamond. It was absolutely gorgeous, and her heart tripped as she glanced down at it. In another reality she would have wept with joy at such a ring, but to her it felt more like a symbol of ownership.
When the presiding official proclaimed them husband and wife, she blinked tears from her eyes.
Andrés caught her chin in a firm grip and lowered his head, his gaze unreadable. She expected a hard, emotionless kiss. But he shocked some of her numbness away by instead pressing his mouth against hers in a tender, almost reassuring kiss. Such a contradiction to the cold, unfeeling man she’d been standing next to.
When he lifted his head, she forced a steadying breath and lifted her chin. Even if this wasn’t her choice, she was going to throw everything she had into their marriage. Because though Andrés refused to love her—and had viciously promised never to—she knew she had to try and make their marriage work. For her sanity and the sake of the baby.
There was good in Andrés; she’d seen the gentle and compassionate side of him. And up until he’d assumed the worst about her on the beach, she’d had hope things might turn out okay. Even now, despite the circumstances, her hope was not dead. She knew Andrés didn’t trust easily. That he was still that hurt, betrayed child who believed no one had loved him.
Andrés had placed an arm around her waist, ushering her outside into the fall sunshine.
“You’ll forgive me if we don’t spend our wedding night here in Gibraltar, Mrs. Montero,” he said, his tone mocking.
Mrs. Montero. A shiver ran down Chloe’s spine. She was officially married to Andrés. There was a legal bond now that made it much harder to simply walk away. Perhaps that was his intention in marrying her.
“Where are we going?” she asked cautiously. “Back to your villa? Don’t you have business in London?”
Andrés’s mouth tightened. “No, I had to postpone it so we could come here.”
“Why did we come here?” They crossed the road to where another sleek black limo awaited them. “Why travel to Gibraltar to get married, only to turn around and leave right away?”
“So that we could be wed immediately,” he said calmly, helping her into the vehicle. “The waiting period for a marriage license is considerably shorter here.”
The hired driver closed the door after Andrés slid in. “We’re flying to Paris soon.”
Andrés intended to take her to Paris? Perhaps he wanted a honeymoon of sorts? She bit back a disbelieving laugh. Not likely.
“There is a charity ball tomorrow night that I am scheduled to attend.” He bared his teeth in a hard smile. “What a perfect opportunity to introduce the paparazzi to my new wife, wouldn’t you agree?”
Chloe slumped back against the seat, her mouth parting in dismay. The paparazzi. Jeez, how could she have forgotten that part of Andrés’s life? She was going to be scrutinized under a microscope and, unfortunately, she feared they would tear her apart.
Andrés stared at Chloe, surprised to discover that the reality of being married did not make him feel as trapped as he’d expected. Instead, there was a surprising amount of relief. Chloe was his wife, and at this moment it took all his power to resist dragging her onto his lap and lifting that delicate dress around her hips to make love to her.
But the anger from yesterday still burned in his gut, the sense of betrayal smoldering his soul. He couldn’t erase the image of her in another man’s arms. Beyond the anger and betrayal, there was also something raw and fierce. Screaming silently. An emotion that he recognized from his childhood. An emotion he had never wanted to experience again—had thought he’d protected himself against.
But even still, his body and mind wanted Chloe with a thirst that was unquenchable. And now she was his wife, to touch and take whenever he desired. He observed her through hooded eyes. She wouldn’t stop him, not even if he chose to take her in the back of the limo. She seemed to need his touch almost as much as he needed hers. Even now she fidgeted with the ring he’d meticulously picked out for her, sliding glances his way when she thought he wasn’t watching.
But he wouldn’t touch her. Not yet. He needed to prove to himself and to her that he still had a bit of self-control left. No woman should be able to wind him up inside in such a way. Cristos, but it was almost as if his every thought was about her.
Andrés turned to stare out the window at the landscape of Gibraltar as the car made its way back to the airfield. It hadn’t been that much of an inconvenience to fly them here, and it had been worth it to expedite the wedding.
Chloe had been surprisingly quiet. What was she thinking at this moment? Likely she resented him for forcing her into a loveless marriage.
He pushed aside the first small sting of guilt, telling himself that her ideals of love were naïve and not pragmatic. That not everyone had the same romance her parents had found.
He closed his eyes and stretched out his legs in front of him.
It might take a bit of time, but Chloe would come around. His gut clenched. What if she didn’t, though?
He mentally shook off the small seed of doubt and hardened his jaw. She would. What other choice did she have?
Chloe stood near the window of the penthouse suite, staring out over the Eiffel Tower that lit the nighttime sky.
Her lips curled into a wistful smile that unfortunately her heart couldn’t begin to match. How many times had she dreamed about coming to Paris? Of seeing the Eiffel Tower and touring the sites of the city?
And now she was here. Only it was because of Andrés’s work, and the city that was famous for its romance was anything but for her. She slid her hand to her belly, the ache in her heart easing as she thought of the baby.
The swell of her pregnancy was somewhat hidden by the dark green gown Andrés had provided for tonight’s event. The strapless dress was stunning with a ruched bodice and intricate beading just above the waist, falling in layers of chiffon down to her ankles. With her hair swept up into a chignon and dramatic makeup, she felt every bit the wealthy tycoon’s wife.
“You look beautiful.”
Chloe stiffened, not having heard Andrés’ silent approach, but his image reflected in the window as he came close behind her. Without turning around, she drank his reflection in and her pulse quickened at how breathtakingly handsome and imposing he looked in his black tuxedo.
Andrés lightly traced the back of her neck with strong fingers. Her knees weakened and heat slid through her. Her lower lip started to quiver so she drew it between her teeth.
It had been days since he’d touched her; she ached for his touch. Physically and emotionally.
For one swift moment she considered turning in his embrace, begging him to forget the ball and stay instead to make love to her. Let them rediscover the passion that now seemed extinct on his part.