Page 22 of The Alvares Bride

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“And for that reason, you set out to shame me in front of my guests?” His mouth twisted; he had to remind himself that she was only weeks out of the hospital so that he wouldn’t give in to what he’d wanted to do earlier and shake her like a rag doll. “What pleasure did it give you, to embarrass me tonight?”

“Me? Embarrass you?” Carin struggled uselessly to free herself. “What about what you did to me? Flaunting your—your mistress under my nose. Inviting your friends here, to see my humiliation.”

“Don’t talk like a little fool!”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving you, Rafe.”

He let go of her, folded his arms and stared at her through narrowed eyes. “No, you are not.”

“Oh, yes I am. It’s bad enough you forced me into this marriage—”

“We have a child to consider, or are you so selfish that you still think only of yourself?”

“Don’t you dare say such a thing to me! I’m selfish? I think only of myself?” Carin flung her hands on her hips as she raised her face to Rafe’s. “I suppose I’m the one who walked out of that bedroom that night and never looked back, that I’m the one who demanded this marriage, who set down a bunch of stupid, egocentric rules—”

“You are selfish, not to see the necessity of giving a child two parents.”

“And you,” Carin said, stabbing her finger into his chest, “you would give her a father who has a wife, keeps a mistress, and doesn’t give a damn who knows it.”

Rafe caught hold of her wrist. “I do not keep a mistress.”

“Oh, give me a break! Your mistress is right downstairs, laughing at how well the evening went.”

Two stripes of color appeared on his cheeks. “Perhaps I should not have asked Claudia here tonight,” he said stiffly.

“Do you think you could have kept her a secret? Even if you’d gone on being subtle, I’d have found out.” Carin twisted her hand from his. “I don’t care. I don’t care if you have a hundred other women. A thousand. You can have as many wom—”

“If that is true,” he said with a smug little smile, “then why are you so upset?”

“Are you dense, senhor? I’m upset because I don’t enjoy being made a fool of in what is supposed to be my home.”

Rafe sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “This is your home.”

“Not for much longer.”

“Carin.” He cleared his throat. “I have already admitted I probably shouldn’t have invited Claudia. I also should have told you about her.”

Carin laughed. “That’s charming. What for? Did you think I’d give you my blessing before you took her to bed?”

“You are my wife,” Rafe said harshly. “You are the only woman I will take to my bed from now on.”

“Oh, that’s even better.” She swung away from him, knotted her hands into fists until her nails bit into her palms. “Do you expect me to be flattered that you’d use me as a—a substitute for your lover?”

“You mean,” he said, his voice taking on an edge, “as I was a substitute for yours?”

“Damn you, Rafe!” She spun towards him. “That’s a lie! I slept with you because I wanted to, because you made me feel—you made me feel…”

She stared at him, her heart pounding, wishing there was a way to call back those foolish words. Time seemed to stop. Finally, she took a step back.

“Just—just let me go home.” Her voice was a ragged whisper. “Let me take the baby and—”

Rafe’s hands closed on her shoulders. “What did I make you feel, querida?”

Carin shook her head. “Nothing. I don’t know why I said that.” It was true, she didn’t. She’d never let herself really think about what she’d felt that night or why she’d gone into Rafe’s arms. And she didn’t want to think about it now, not with him a breath away. “Rafe. Please, let’s end this. We don’t have a marriage, we have a—a sad little soap opera. You married me for Amy’s sake, but she’ll sense the truth as she gets older. She’ll know—”

His arms closed around her. She flattened her hands on his chest, tried to hold him at bay, but he gathered her to him, held her rigid body against his.

“Answer me, minha esposa. What did I make you feel, when you gave yourself to me?”

His eyes were dark, as dark as the night that held the quiet bedroom in its embrace. Trembling, she turned her face away, knowing it wasn’t safe to look into those eyes, or to answer his question with anything but a lie.

“I felt—I felt nothing.”

“Ah. Nothing. Of course, I should have known.” Gently, he captured her chin and made her look up at him. “That was why you trembled then, as you are trembling now, why you came apart in my arms.” He smiled and took his handkerchief from his pocket. “I wonder what would have happened, if you had looked like this the night we met.” Gently, he wiped away all traces of the purple lipstick. “I like to think I would have seen past the ugly dress, querida, but the lipstick…I don’t know.”

It was impossible not to give a shaky laugh. “Oh, hell,” she said, “what must your friends think?”

“I will tell them it is an old North American custom,” he said solemnly. “I will say that a bride is supposed to come to her groom looking as unattractive as possible, that it is a test of his feelings for her, to see if he still wants her, even if she wears a dress the color of…” He ran the back of his hand over the ruffle at her throat. “What is this color? Does it have a name?”

“Hideous Green. And you’ve completely changed the subject. Is Claudia your lover?”

“Não.” Rafe’s smile faded. “She is not.”

“Is she your mistress?”

“No.”

“What is she, then? Is there some special term in your language for the part she plays in your life?”

“It is the same as in yours. She is only a friend.”

“An extremely friendly friend.”

“Yes, well…” He shrugged his shoulders. “I apologize, querida. I never realized she does so much, ah, touching. And, as I said, I should have told you about her.”

“But you were engaged to be married.”

“It was a long time ago. Five years. More than that. And I was the one who ended it.” He slid his hands down Carin’s arms, clasped her wrists. “She is a spoiled girl, not a woman, querida, and she is no more faithful to a man today than she was then.” He drew a deep breath. “I believe that when a man takes a woman as his wife, they are obligated to honor their marriage vows. One man, one woman. No one else.”

“She still—she still wants you.”

“She flirts with every man she knows…” Rafe expelled a breath. “Yes. I suppose it’s true. I advise her on business affairs but perhaps it’s time she sought advice from someone else.”

“You don’t have to give her up on my account,” Carin said stiffly.

“I gave her up years ago, querida.” He smiled, lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. “Besides, you are much more beautiful than she is.”

“Do you really think I care about…” She hesitated. “Am I? Prettier than Claudia?”

He grinned. “Definitely—lthough it was a bit difficult to see tonight.”

“You mean, you don’t like this dress?” Carin lifted her chin. “Well, it was your fault. You had no right to order me to move into this room.”

“I had every right.” He softened his words by drawing her into his arms. “You are my wife.”

Don’t melt against him, she told herself, oh, don’t…

“We are married, amada. Why should I lie to myself, or to you?” He kissed her mouth. “I want you. And you want me.”

She looked up into his dark eyes and asked the question that had haunted her all these months.

“Why did you steal away from my bed that night?”

“You locked yourself in the bathroom.” His tone hardened. “You made it clear I was no longer needed.”

She sighed and laid her hands on his chest.

“I only did that because—because I was ashamed of what I’d done.”

“Sleeping with a stranger,” he said quietly.

She nodded. “And—I’d been so—so wild…”


Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance