She sucked in a breath, struggled to free herself from his hold. But he held her too firmly.
‘Love is always a lie,’ he said, shattering any hope that might remain. ‘But whatever I have discovered today, I still want you, Cerys,’ he murmured, the heat in his eyes part promise, part threat. ‘That is one thing that has not changed.’ His gaze dropped to her breasts, which had peaked painfully beneath the thin silk, still yearning for his touch. ‘And it seems your body still wants me, too.’
She tugged free, scrambled back, stunned by the vicious spike of arousal, the melting sensation at her core.
‘I… I don’t care what my body wants,’ she said, because there was no point in lying, he knew her body too well. He was the only man who did. But where once his touch had given her such joy, all it did now was make her feel more ashamed.
‘I don’t want to hurt Ana, or your family’s reputation,’ she added, because she could see that he wasn’t wrong about the impact her real identity would make when the press broke the story—especially if they ever discovered that nobody had known her connection to Angharad Jones until today. It wouldn’t just reignite the old scandal, it would affect Santiago’s reputation personally. He would be viewed as a fool or, worse, a man like his father, too blinded by his own lust to be patient, to think coherently.
Her frantic mind tried to come up with a solution… But she couldn’t get past the reality that it wasn’t his fault she had lost her memory, any more than it was hers. And that he would never have proposed to her in the first place if he had known who she was.
‘We will make the marriage official and then honeymoon at the Isla de la Luna resort,’ he murmured, his voice so flat and his eyes so shuttered she could see nothing of the man she thought she knew. ‘Once we return in two weeks’ time, you can live at thecastillo, I will live in Madrid, but we will continue to be seen in public, on occasion, until a divorce will not cause too many questions.’
Two weeks? Could she survive for two weeks without letting him know the true depths of her feelings for him, and exposing herself even more?
She thought of all the years she had spent, hiding the hurt from her father, making herself believe it didn’t matter if he couldn’t see her. That she didn’t need his approval, or his love. And it occurred to her that by the time he had died, over six months ago now, none of that hopeful child had been left.
Perhaps going through with this charade for the sake of appearances, would cure the feelings she had developed for Santiago. Feelings which she knew now would never be returned. Even though going through that brutal rejection again would be so much worse, because Santiago had always been a better man than her father. The next two weeks would force her to face the truth, and finally teach that naïve, impulsive, reckless girl not to throw away her heart so easily, or trust too quickly.
Hopelessness engulfed her as she nodded.
‘I… I can give you two weeks to repair the damage my identity will cause to your family’s reputation,’ she said. ‘But I won’t sleep with you,’ she added hastily.
How could she, when she still yearned for his touch?
Something flickered in his eyes, something fierce and possessive, but it was gone so quickly she was sure she must have imagined it. He touched his thumb to her cheek, slid it down to press against the pulse in her collarbone. She pulled away, but the vicious jolt of reaction was impossible to disguise.
‘If this is what you wish, Cerys,’ he said, but she could see the cynical glitter in his eyes. ‘We will leave for Isla de la Luna as soon as your documents can be issued,’ he announced. ‘And I will have the legal team alter the prenuptial agreement—so the terms of our divorce are already agreed—which you will need to sign.’
The stabbing pain sharpened when suspicion flickered in his eyes.
She nodded. ‘Of course.’
Did he really believe she would refuse to sign it? That she would want to prolong this agony? Or profit from a marriage which was devoid of hope now?
As he strode away, her heart sank to her toes. Because pretending not to want him—not to love him—when they were alone together was going to be the hardest lie to pull off of all… But maybe if she could fakenotloving him,notcaring for him, or that little boy who had lost his trust in love so long ago—it might become true.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘When did youdiscover your wife was the daughter of your father’s mistress, Your Excellency? The child of the woman who destroyed your family.’
‘Cerys? It is said you did not even remember your own name when you met His Excellency the Duque, is this true?’
‘Es esta una pasión por los siglos de los siglos, Excelencias?’
Santiago pressed his hand to the small of his wife’s back to direct her past the press piranhas who had been lying in wait at the Ibiza heliport for their arrival.
They’d been legally wed that morning in a short civil ceremony at thecastillo, witnessed by his legal team. The press release had been issued to announce their marriage and the honeymoon on Isla de la Luna, but it seemed to have done nothing to quell the furore which had been raging for forty-eight hours—starting only a few hours after he had first been handed Angharad Jones’s diary.
‘No comment.Sin comentarios!’ He ground the words out as he attempted to shield Cerys from the throng of reporters and photographers all vying for her attention.
His security guards pushed the crowd back from the entrance to the private dock. But even so, he felt Cerys flinch as ever more intrusive and provocative questions were hurled at them in both Spanish and English while they walked the short distance to the launch which would transport them to the island.
He ushered her on board, squeezing her hand as they headed down to the cabin, while the crew cast off. But she dragged her hand free as soon as they were out of view. Much as she had done that morning after they had pledged to honour their marriage vows before the officiant. As if she could not tolerate his touch a moment longer than was necessary.
He took the seat opposite her as they sped away from the private dock. He gripped the leather as the boat lifted into the surf. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her profile as she stared out onto the horizon.
She looked pale and tense, her eyes shielded by dark glasses. But he’d seen the shadows under them that morning, when she had arrived in his study to sign the paperwork which would confirm their union and the terms of their divorce. The designer dress the stylist had picked out for the occasion hugged her full breasts and sent a familiar shot of heat through his system.