A DEAL AT THE ALTAR Page 2

  ‘It wouldn’t be a marriage in the true sense of the word.’

  Her words, spoken with conviction, dragged his attention back to her face.

  ‘And what is that?’

  ‘A marriage for love, of course—like the one your brother and my sister wish to make. A commitment for life.’ Her words flowed freely, and once again he thought he heard a spark of passion.

  Suspiciously he looked at her as he sat back again in his chair. ‘You are not looking for love, Ms Henshaw?’

  ‘Not at all, Mr Ramirez. I only want my sister’s happiness. I will do anything to achieve that. Once they are married we can annul our marriage and go separate ways.

  Santos considered this wild suggestion more seriously. Would it hurt to go along with it for now—to have another option if his legal team were unable to sort out an alternative?

  ‘And you would want what, exactly, from this marriage?’ His mind raced. On a business level it made perfect sense. He would finally have the security of inheriting the business he’d built up and would have done his duty by his brother, freeing Carlo of obligations he had little or no interest in.

  ‘I want nothing from you other than our names on a marriage certificate. Once that is done we need not see each other. We just apply for an annulment.’

  Her voice had hardened and his past rushed back at him. He saw the teenager who had hardly grieved for his controlling mother. Felt the pain as his father eventually remarried and moved on with a loving and kind woman whom Santos had resented. A woman who had changed his father, almost taking him away from his firstborn with the power of her love.

  ‘I find that hard to believe. You must want something.’ Experience had taught him that. Everyone wanted something. Everyone had a price.

  ‘Nothing more than I’ve already stated.’

  Her cool, calm words sounded believable.

  Santos thought of the conditions of the will and gritted his teeth against the memory of the day he’d realised what his manipulative father had done. It seemed this attractive woman knew a lot about the will, but she didn’t know it all. She hadn’t mentioned the other conditions that he would have to meet before finally inheriting. It wasn’t as simple as marriage.

  ‘I require more than that. My wife, when I take one, will be a wife in every sense of the word.’

  Did she really think he was going to accept her proposition meekly, without attaching his own conditions? If he had to get married he’d rather do it for business than become as vulnerable as his father had after his second marriage. There was also the matter that he was a hot-blooded male and this woman had stirred his blood the second she’d walked proudly into his office.

  Santos watched as realisation dawned on her pretty face, followed by defeat. But he said nothing more. To do so now would be to show his hand. He would never give away the fact that he actually saw her proposition as a serious option—his back-up plan.

  ‘I can’t do that.’ She gasped the words out, her face whitening before his eyes.

  ‘Then your very first words to me were lies.’

  Part of him felt relieved. She hadn’t really been serious. But another part of him, the deal-chaser, wanted this—but on his terms. Marriage would not only secure the business but would put a stop to the endless rounds of parties. It would enhance his image in the business world, giving him what appeared to be a happy marriage, and it would mean he didn’t have to get emotionally involved. Something he avoided at all costs.

  She still hadn’t spoken so he carried on, pushing forward his conditions, turning it completely to his advantage. ‘That is the only deal I’m prepared to make.’

  * * *

  Georgina’s heart sank. Was he seriously suggesting a real marriage—one that would entail her being at his side publicly and sleeping in his bed at night?

  ‘We know nothing of each other.’ She grabbed at the first thing that came to mind.

  ‘On the contrary, Georgina. I think we both know enough.’

  The use of her name sent a warm tingle down her spine. His gaze fixed on hers so intently she felt as if he was physically holding her captive. Her pulse-rate leapt, then beat hard as she thought of spending the night in his bed, of being his wife in every sense of the word.

  She couldn’t banish the image of him with one of his model-like women hanging on his arm. Would such a man as Santos Ramirez even want to be seen publicly with her? Worse still, would he find her lacking as a lover? No, lover wasn’t the right word. Would he find her lacking as a sexual partner?

  ‘I know that the world would never be fooled into thinking we had married for any other reason than convenience.’ She clutched awkwardly at excuses as she still struggled to take in what he wanted.

  ‘And that would be because you have already been married and widowed purely for financial gain.’

  Pain lanced through her as she thought of Richard Henshaw—the man she’d married because she had been genuinely fond of him. The same man who had given her stability and security in her life for the first time ever. In that moment she hated Santos more than any other man for bringing Richard into it.

  ‘No.’ Her voice filled with entreaty. ‘Because I am nothing like the type of woman you date.’

  He raised a brow, and a slight smile teased at the corners of his lips. ‘As far as people would know I’d have become besotted with you exactly because you are not like any woman I have ever dated.’

  ‘Would you really want people to think that instead of thinking we were married in name only to keep your business?’

  ‘I have no intention of anyone ever thinking I have married for business gain only.’ He looked steadily at her. ‘Especially Carlo.’

  Georgina couldn’t take it in. Her whole plan had been turned upside down. He’d taken complete and utter control of the situation and turned it into something she just couldn’t think of doing.

  ‘How is that achievable?’

  She struggled to comprehend how Emma would ever believe she had married such a man simply because she wanted to. Not now Emma knew all about her first marriage and the reasons behind it.

  ‘You said that nobody knows you are here—is that not true?’

  ‘No, nobody,’ she replied, trying to grasp where this was leading.

  ‘Good,’ he said, and stood up, making her feel small and insignificant as he moved around his desk to stand before her once more. ‘I will host a party tomorrow evening, to which you and Emma are invited.’

  ‘How is that going to help?’ Georgina couldn’t figure out where he was going with this.

  He smiled. A lazy smile that did nothing to hide his amusement at the situation. ‘We won’t be able to leave each other alone; the attraction will be obvious to all there. Then we will spend the entire weekend together, maybe longer, after which we shall make the announcement.’

  The tone of his voice had changed, giving it a warm depth, and she had the distinct impression that if he was really attracted to her she would be unable to resist. A tingle shimmied down her spine, causing her pulse-rate to leap—which had nothing to do with anxiety and everything to do with the dark and possibly dangerous man who watched her intently.

  ‘Okay,’ she said quickly, aware that her voice had become a husky whisper. She wanted to push on with her plans but hoped she could change his mind later. A real marriage surely wasn’t necessary. ‘We’ll do it your way.’

  ‘There was never any doubt about that, querida.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  GEORGINA’S ANXIETY LEVELS had risen tenfold since entering the hotel where Santos was having his impromptu party. Her sister, who was so excited, believing a party meant there was hope for her and Carlo to be married, had vanished from her side the moment they arrived. Georgina now felt conspicuous as she stood just inside the doorway of the hotel room.

  ‘Buenas noches, Ms Henshaw.’

  She looked up at Santos, her breath catching as he moved closer to her. He was immaculately dressed in a dar
k suit and tie, the white of his shirt enhancing his attractive tan. The smile on his lips was warm and welcoming. That same warmth reached his eyes as he took her hand. The touch of his fingers as he lightly held hers made her shiver, as if a feather had been trailed down her spine.

  Speak, she told herself firmly. Don’t let his act of attraction distract you.

  ‘Good evening, Mr Ramirez,’ she said, injecting firmness into her voice as she remembered they were not yet supposed to have met. She certainly didn’t want Emma to discover what she was about to do. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you at last.’

  He quirked a brow, and she wondered if she’d gone too far, but around her they were already drawing speculative gazes. It seemed to Georgina that the elite of London society were here—and all at his request.

  ‘Please, call me Santos,’ he said as he lifted her hand to his lips.

  Her stomach did a strange flutter as those lips brushed sensuously over the back of her hand. Stunned into silence, she was mesmerised by his dark hair as he lowered his head. The barely controlled waves of shiny black hair looked so inviting she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it. Then he straightened, towering over her once more, his gaze locking with hers.

  Don’t go there, she warned herself, and tried to pull back her hand, but his fingers tightened on hers. A sexy smile spread across his lips and she dragged in a ragged breath, then swallowed hard. What was she doing, allowing this man to get to her?

  ‘The pleasure is mine.’ His words were deep and uneven. He didn’t let her hand go, instead forcing her to stay, so that she could do nothing other than stand there. She looked into the ever darkening depths of his eyes and felt a sizzle of awareness slide over her like the slow thaw of mountain snow. Shy and flustered was something she’d never felt—but, far worse, she knew she was already out of her depth. How was she ever going to get through the evening when he turned on charm like this?

  She would because she had to. She was doing this for Emma’s happiness. She clutched her bag, thinking of the few essentials she’d slipped into it, knowing she wasn’t going to be returning home that night.

  She smiled, more to herself than anyone else, determined not to let this man’s charisma knock her off balance. It was all for show, and if he could do it then so could she.

  ‘Something is amusing you?’ His fingers traced a slow, teasing circle on the palm of her hand, making tingles race along her arm. She wanted to pull away, wanted to break the contact, yet couldn’t. Somewhere deep inside her something stirred—an emotion long since locked away.

  ‘I was merely admiring your charm.’ She smiled up at him, pulling herself closer against him. It felt flirty. Dangerous. ‘I’m sure women just drop at your feet.’

  He laughed. A soft rumble that made her tremble. Instinctively she tried to pull her hand free. Again his fingers tightened and his eyes darkened, and for a moment her eyes locked with his. She drew in a quick breath as she saw the sparks of desire within those dark depths. Her body responded to the primal call of his as heady heat thundered around her.

  ‘That is always my intention, querida.’

  He smiled down at her, letting her hand go so that she felt suddenly bereft of his contact—like a ship torn from its anchor to drift in the harbour.

  ‘Champagne?’

  She blinked, not quite able to keep up with his train of thought. Glancing around her, she caught her sister’s eye as she chatted with other guests, Carlo at her side. Emma looked radiant and happy, and Georgina knew there was no going back now. Just as she had done five years ago, she had to put Emma first. She’d done it once, and she could do it again, but Emma must never know.

  ‘Champagne would be lovely,’ she purred, being as flirtatious as she possibly could. Maybe a little champagne was just what she needed to boost her confidence.

  With his hand in the small of her back she moved into the room, aware of the curious glances being directed their way. Santos handed her a flute of champagne, but her head was becoming light, as if she’d already had several glasses of the bubbly liquid. She couldn’t quite believe how this handsome and powerful businessman was able to make her feel so special, so fresh and alive. His charm offensive was potent, making her feel unique and, worse than that, desired. If this was how he was going to play out their planned public scene of attraction she would have to be careful, remind herself it was all an act. Because right now it felt very real. And she liked it.

  * * *

  Santos couldn’t help but watch Georgina as she sipped her champagne. The need to act as if he were attracted to her had gone out of the window the moment she’d entered the room. He’d heard the hush, felt the ripple of interest, and had been as mesmerised by her as every other man in the room.

  Still looking as proud and defiant as she had yesterday in his office, she’d stood framed in the doorway. The jade silk of her dress skimmed over her body, neither revealing nor concealing her curves. A black wrap hung loosely off her shoulders, and he’d been unable to take his eyes off the creamy expanse of her skin, broken only by the thin jade straps. Her neck was bare of any jewellery—something many of the women he knew couldn’t carry off.

  Even if he hadn’t had to go up to her and start the charade of attraction he would have wanted to. The same kick of lust he’d felt yesterday had stirred in his veins once again, propelling him towards her. As he’d taken her hand, enjoying the softness of her skin, he had known he wanted her.

  ‘Your plan is working.’ He leant down and whispered against her hair, the fresh scent of it invading his senses, making his pulse throb with unquenched desire.

  She pulled back from him, confusion filling her eyes, her fingers clutching tightly to her glass. ‘It is?’

  He heard the uncertainty in her voice and had the strangest desire to stroke his fingers down her cheek. An affectionate gesture he’d never normally think of making. Just what was it about this woman that stirred something unknown deep within him?

  ‘With your dedication to the role, how could anyone question what they are seeing?’ She turned away, exchanging her empty glass for another bubble-filled one.

  The brittleness of her words reminded him just who he was dealing with. Georgina Henshaw was an avaricious woman who, with one marriage already behind her, could play his game with as much detachment as he employed.

  He watched her beautiful yet emotionless face as she scanned the room, her eyes finally resting on her sister. With a sternness that would have become any teacher her gaze followed Emma as she moved across the room, until she nestled herself against his brother.

  Unable to stop himself from watching the loving moment, he saw how his brother looked down at Emma. Saw the open adoration in the young woman’s eyes. Even as Carlo dipped his head and kissed her he couldn’t avert his gaze. Whatever it was between them was so powerful he felt it from the other side of the room. Just as he had done as a youth, when Carlo’s mother had first met his father, he felt excluded. It was almost as if he’d gone back in time, watching Carlo grow strong from his mother’s love while he could only look on.

  ‘They make a good couple, don’t they?’

  Georgina’s words dragged him back from a past he rarely visited. For a moment he was disorientated.

  ‘They don’t have to marry to prove that.’

  He couldn’t keep the harshness from his words. Beside him Georgina stiffened, as if she was taking a step back from him. He forced his mind to more pleasant thoughts—like the way the woman at his side stirred his desires like no other.

  ‘I hope you aren’t going back on our deal, Mr Ramirez?’

  He deflected her sharp-toned words with a smile. ‘Santos,’ he said softly, placing his arm across her shoulders and pulling her body against his, relishing the warmth of it. ‘I think you should call me Santos. If you want this to work.’

  He looked down into her upturned face. Her eyes darkened until they reminded him of the depths of a forest. Her full lips pa
rted slightly and he felt the heavy tug of desire.

  He wanted her.

  Slowly he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. Her breath mingled with his, warming his mouth, and he imagined the sensation of her sighing in pleasure. This was going to be a very interesting night.

  Briefly her lips responded. Softening beneath his. And his whole body suddenly ached for hers. It was stronger than the heady lust that usually coursed through his blood when he kissed a woman. This was potent. Vibrant and alive. It was more powerful than anything he’d known before.

  * * *

  Georgina’s body heated as his lips touched hers, the contact so light it almost didn’t happen. Involuntarily she closed her eyes as the liquid warmth of desire slid over her. She swayed closer to him, felt his arm, strong and firm, draw her closer.

  She knew there and then that he had power over her. He had the ability to stir emotions she never again wanted to explore, and she would have to be on her guard.

  Her fingers clutched the stem of the glass in her hand as she hardened herself against what she was feeling. This wasn’t for real. This was all an act. And if she didn’t keep that in mind she’d make a fool of herself, because at this moment in time she wanted nothing more than to be kissed by Santos.

  Not this light, lingering kiss. After several years without experiencing the intimacy of any kiss she knew he’d awakened something deep within her. She wanted more. Her body hungered for passion. To her horror, she realised her body hungered for him.

  But she couldn’t let that happen. She had to stay in control—not just of herself, but of the situation. Never could she allow herself to become a woman so desperate for love that she’d beg a man to stay, as her mother had done to her father. In Santos she recognised the same inability to commit to a relationship her father had possessed. He would be the worst man for her to give her heart to.