Claimed for the De Carrillo Twins (Wedlocked! Book #84) Page 5

  Something hardened inside him as he had to acknowledge how neatly Trinity had protected herself. She was potentially even worse than he’d thought—using his nephews like this, manipulating them to need her.

  She’d lived a quiet life since Rio’s death—she’d only moved between the house, the local shops and the nearby park. No shopping on Bond Street or high-profile social events.

  When she’d been with Rio, Cruz had seen countless pictures of them at parties and premieres, so she had to be approaching the end of her boredom threshold.

  He thought again of her assertion that she loved the boys... He couldn’t countenance for a second that she loved these children who weren’t even her own flesh and blood.

  A memory of his own mother came back with startling clarity—he’d been a young teenager and he’d confronted her one day, incensed on her behalf that his father had been photographed in the papers with his latest mistress.

  She’d just looked at him and said witheringly, ‘The only mistake he made, Cruz, was getting caught. This is how our world works.’ She’d laughed then—nastily. ‘Dios mio, please tell me you’re not so naive as to believe we married because we actually had feelings for one another?’

  He’d looked at his mother in shock. No, he’d never laboured under the misapprehension that any such thing as affection existed between his parents, but he’d realised in that moment that some tiny part of him that hadn’t been obliterated after years of only the most perfunctory parenting had still harboured a kernel of hope that something meaningful existed... Shame had engulfed him for being so naive.

  She’d said then, with evident bitterness, ‘I was all but packaged up and sent to your father, because our two families belong to great dynasties and it was a strategic match. I did my duty and bore him a son, and I put up with his bastard son living under this very roof, and his mistresses—because, no matter what he does, this family’s legacy is safe with you, and I have ensured that. That is all that matters in this life Cruz. Cultivating our great name and protecting it. One of these days your father will die, and as far as I’m concerned it can’t come soon enough. Because then you will restore this family’s reputation and fortune. That is your duty and your destiny, above all else.’

  She’d died not long after that speech. The memory of her had faded but her words hadn’t. Duty and destiny. There was no room for emotion, and he’d had to acknowledge the enormity of what he stood to inherit. He’d become a man that day, in more ways than one, leaving behind any childish vulnerabilities and misconceptions.

  And because he’d stepped up to that responsibility he now had something solid to pass on to his nephews. They aroused something in him that he’d only felt before for Rio—an urge to protect and forge a bond. He’d become Rio’s guardian while he’d still been underage, and he wanted to do the same for his vulnerable nephews. He vowed now that they would not go the way of their father. By the time they came of age they would know how to handle their legacy...he would make sure of it.

  When Cruz had realised that he hadn’t been named as guardian after Rio’s death he’d felt inexplicably hurt, even though he’d known that he was hardly in a position to take on two small children he barely knew. It had been like a slap from beyond the grave, and he’d had to wonder if the rapprochement he’d believed to be present in his relationship with Rio had actually been real.

  Or, as he’d come to suspect, was it more likely to have been someone else’s influence?

  Cruz had looked at Trinity, dressed in black on the other side of Rio’s grave at the funeral, as his brother had been lowered into the ground. Her face had been covered in a gauzy veil, her body encased in a snug-fitting black suit. And that was when he’d vowed to do whatever it took to make sure her influence over his nephews was thwarted. He wanted them under his protection—away from a gold-digging manipulator.

  Suddenly an audacious idea occurred to him. He immediately thrust it aside—appalled that he’d even thought it. But it wouldn’t go away. It took root, and as he looked at it analytically it held a kind of horrific appeal.

  He stared out over the gardens without really seeing them, and finally had to acknowledge grimly that there was really only one option where Trinity was concerned—but was he prepared to go to those lengths?

  His gut answered him. Yes.

  As if fate was contriving to make sure he didn’t have time to change his mind he heard a noise and turned around to see Trinity coming back into the room. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, but loose tendrils curled around her face. He noticed for the first time that there were delicate smudges of colour under her cornflower-blue eyes. Evidence of fatigue.

  He ruthlessly pushed down a very curious sensation he’d never felt in relation to a woman before—and certainly not one he welcomed for this one: concern.

  He faced her and saw how she tensed as she came towards him, folding her arms in a defensive gesture. Her chin tilting towards him mutinously.

  With not a little relish, Cruz said, ‘I have a solution which I think will work for both of us, my nephews and Mrs Jordan.’

  He could see Trinity’s arms tighten fractionally over her chest and he focused on her treacherously beautiful face. Even now she looked as innocent as the naive twenty-two-year-old who had come to work for him. Except, of course, she hadn’t been naive. Or innocent. And she was about to face the repercussions of her actions.

  ‘What solution?’

  Cruz waited a beat and then said, very deliberately, ‘Marriage, Trinity. You’re going to marry me.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  FOR A MOMENT all Trinity heard was a roaring in her ears. She shook her head but Cruz was still looking at her with that expression on his face. Determined.

  She asked weakly, ‘Did you just say marriage?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  Trinity’s arms were so tight across her chest she was almost cutting off her air supply. ‘That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’ And yet why was there an illicit shiver deep in her belly at the thought of being married to this man?

  Cruz started to stroll towards her and Trinity had a very keen sense that he was a predator, closing in on his prey.

  ‘Even though I know I’d win in a courtroom battle for the twins, I don’t really have the inclination to invite unnecessarily adverse PR in my direction by pitting myself against my brother’s widow. And from what I’ve seen it’s evident to me that Mateo and Sancho are clearly attached to you.’

  ‘Of course they are,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m all they’ve known as a mother since they were one.’

  He stopped within touching distance and Trinity’s breath hitched at his sheer charisma. She forced herself to fill her lungs. She couldn’t afford to let him distract her.

  ‘Why on earth would you suggest marriage?’

  He grimaced, ‘You are legally my nephews’ guardian, and I don’t trust you not to exert your right to do something drastic. Marriage will make me their legal guardian too, and I’m not prepared to settle for anything less to ensure their protection.’

  Trinity shook her head and took a step back, hating herself for it but needing some space. ‘You’re crazy if you think I’ll agree.’

  With lethal softness he said now, ‘Who do you think has been funding your existence these past few months?’

  ‘You,’ she said miserably.

  ‘If you were to walk out of this house with my two nephews that allowance would be stopped immediately. How on earth do you think you would cope without a nanny?’

  Desperation clawed upwards. ‘I could get a job.’

  Cruz was scathing. ‘You’d be happy to lower yourself to Mrs Jordan’s status again? Because that’s all you’re qualified for—either working as a maid or as a nanny.’

  Trinity refused to let him intimidate he
r. ‘Of course—if I had to.’ A voice screamed at her—how on earth could she work with two small children in tow?

  Cruz was obdurate, and Trinity knew with a sinking feeling that one way or the other he wasn’t leaving until he’d got what he wanted. Her. And his nephews.

  ‘It’s very simple. I don’t trust you not to take advantage of your position. And you seem to be forgetting a very pertinent fact.’ He looked at her.

  Eventually, with extreme reluctance and the sensation of a net closing around her, she said, ‘What fact?’

  ‘Since Rio’s death those boys have had nothing but their name. The only way they will receive their inheritance now is through me, and I’m not going to let that happen unless you marry me.’

  The net closed around Trinity as the full significance of that sank in. She would be responsible for not letting Matty and Sancho receive their inheritance?

  ‘That’s blackmail,’ she breathed, astounded at his ruthlessness.

  Cruz all but shrugged, supremely unperturbed. ‘Their legacy is considerable, and as such I have a responsibility to see that it, and they, are protected.’

  Affront coursed through her. ‘I would never touch what’s theirs.’

  Cruz’s lip curled. ‘And yet you managed to divest Rio of a small fortune within less than a year of marriage?’

  Trinity opened her mouth to defend herself again but from the look on Cruz’s face she knew it would be pointless to say anything. Not in this emotive atmosphere.

  She whirled away from that mocking look in his eyes and took refuge by a solid object—the couch. When she felt relatively composed again, she turned back to face him.

  ‘There has to be some other way.’ She seized on an idea. ‘I can sign something. A contract that says I have no claim to their inheritance.’

  Cruz shook his head and moved, coming closer. ‘No. Marriage is the only option I’m prepared to consider. I’ve decided to move back to the De Carrillo ancestral home in Spain, near Seville. The bank is flourishing here in the UK, and in America. Its reputation has been restored. It’s time to build on that, and presenting a united family front will only strengthen the business and in turn my nephews’ legacy.’

  Rendered speechless, Trinity could only listen as Cruz went on.

  ‘Locking you into a marriage with me is the only way they’ll get their inheritance and I’ll be satisfied that you’re not going to prove to be a threat to my nephews. And as it happens a convenient wife will suit my needs very well. But I’m afraid I can’t offer you the bling of married life with Rio. You might have been keeping a low profile since my brother died, but I would estimate that once the reality of living in a remote castillo hits you’ll be climbing the walls and looking for a divorce before the year is out...which I’ll be only too happy to grant once I’ve got full custody of my nephews.’

  The extent of his cynicism shocked her anew. She’d surmised from Rio’s account of his early life that things probably hadn’t been idyllic for Cruz either, but she’d never imagined that he carried such a deep-rooted seam of distrust.

  Trinity hated it that it aroused her empathy and curiosity—again. She cursed herself. She’d felt empathy for Rio and she’d let him manipulate her. If it hadn’t been for Mateo and Sancho she’d tell Cruz where to shove his autocratic orders and storm out.

  But how could she? He was threatening to withhold their very legacy if she didn’t comply. And there was no way she was leaving her boys in his cold and cynical care alone. She was all they had now.

  Surely, she thought quickly, if she said yes he’d realise what he was doing—marrying someone he hated himself for kissing—and agree to make some kind of compromise? Trinity shoved down the betraying hurt that Cruz would never even be suggesting such a thing if she didn’t have something he wanted. His nephews.

  She called his bluff. ‘You leave me no choice. Yes, I’ll marry you.’

  She waited for Cruz to blanch, or for realisation to hit and for him to tell her that he’d only been testing her commitment, but he showed no emotion. Nor triumph. After a beat he just looked at his watch, and then back at her, as cold as ice.

  ‘Good. I’ll have my team draw up a pre-nuptial agreement and organise a fast and discreet civil wedding within the next few weeks, after which we’ll leave directly for Spain.’

  He had turned and was walking out of the room before the shock reverberating through Trinity subsided enough for her to scramble after him—clearly he was not a man who was easily bluffed. He was deadly serious about this.

  His hand was on the doorknob when she came to a stumbling halt behind him, breathless. ‘Wait a minute—you don’t really want to marry me. What about falling in love?’

  Cruz turned around with an incredulous look on his face, and then threw his head back and laughed so abruptly that Trinity flinched. When he looked at her again his eyes glittered like dark golden sapphires.

  ‘Love? Now you really are over-acting. Choice in marriage and falling in love are best left to the deluded. Look where infatuation got my brother—driven to fatal destruction. I have no time for such emotions or weaknesses. This marriage will be one in name only, purely to protect my nephews from your grasping hands, and you will fulfil your role as my wife to the best of your ability.’

  Trinity tried one more time. ‘You don’t have to do this. I would never harm my stepsons, or take their inheritance from them.’

  Cruz’s eyes gleamed with stark intent. ‘I don’t believe you, and I don’t trust you. So, yes, we are doing this. You’ll need to see if Mrs Jordan is happy to stay in my employment and come to Spain. If not, we’ll have to hire another nanny. The sooner you come to terms with this new reality and start preparing the boys for the move the easier it will be for me to make the necessary arrangements.’

  For long minutes after he’d walked out Trinity stood there in shock. What had she just done?

  * * *

  True to his word, just over two weeks later Trinity stood beside Cruz De Carrillo in a register office. He was dressed in a sleek dark grey suit, white shirt and matching tie. She wore an understated cream silk knee-length sheath dress with matching jacket. Her hair was up in a smooth chignon, her make-up light.

  In the end resistance had been futile. No matter which way she’d looked at it, she’d kept coming back to the fact that she wasn’t prepared to walk away from Mateo and Sancho after all they’d been through—as well as the fact that the thought of leaving them made her feel as if someone was carving her heart out of her chest.

  By agreeing to marry Rio she’d at least felt that she could offer them some permanence, which she’d never had. She hadn’t wanted them to go through the same insecurity...and now she was in exactly the same position. So it had come down to this: she had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to.

  When she’d put Cruz’s plan to Mrs Jordan, the woman had thought about it, consulted with her son who was at university in Scotland, and then agreed to stay with them as long as she could be guaranteed regular visits home. Trinity had felt emotional, knowing that at least she’d have Mrs Jordan’s quiet and calm support.

  She was acutely conscious now of Cruz’s tall, hard body beside her as the registrar spoke the closing words of the ceremony. She was all but a prisoner to this man now. The perfect chattel. She looked at the simple gold band on her finger that marked her as married for the second time in her life. This time, though, she thought a little hysterically, at least she wasn’t remotely deluded about her husband’s intentions.

  ‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations. You may kiss your wife, Mr De Carrillo.’

  Slowly, reluctantly, Trinity turned to face Cruz. She looked up. Even though she wore high heels, he still towered over her.

  Cruz just looked at her for a long moment. Trinity’s breath was trapped in her throat like a bird. Was h
e going to humiliate her in front of their small crowd of witnesses—largely made up of his legal team—by refusing to kiss her?

  But then, just when she expected him to turn away dismissively, he lowered his head and his mouth touched hers. Firm. Cool. His lips weren’t tightly shut, and neither were hers, so for a second their breaths mingled, and in that moment a flame of pure heat licked through her with such force that she was hurled back in time to that incendiary kiss in his study.

  Before she could control her reaction, though, Cruz was pulling back to look down at her again with those hard, glittering eyes. They transmitted a silent but unmistakable message: he would do the bare minimum in public to promote an image of unity, but that was as far as it would go.

  Trinity was humiliated by her reaction, by the fact that he still had such a devastating effect on her. And terrified at the prospect of him realising it. She tried to pull her hand free of his but he only tightened his grip, reminding her of how trapped she was.

  She glared up at him.

  ‘Smile for the photos, querida.’

  Trinity followed Cruz’s look to see a photographer waiting. Of course. This was all part of his plan, wasn’t it? To send out a message of a family united.

  Aware that she must look more like someone about to be tipped over the edge of a plank than a besotted bride, Trinity forced a smile and flinched only slightly when the flash went off.

  * * *

  Cruz could hear his nephews chattering happily as they were fed at the back of the plane. Then he heard softer, lower tones... Trinity’s... He tensed. Any sense of satisfaction at the fact that he’d achieved what he’d set out to achieve was gone. He cursed silently. Who was he kidding? He’d been tense since he’d left her standing in that room in Rio’s house, with her eyes like two huge pools of blue, and a face leached of all colour.

  It should have given him an immense sense of accomplishment to know he’d pulled the rug from under her feet, but he’d walked away that day with far more complicated emotions in his gut—and a very unwelcome reminder of when he’d seen a similar look of stunned shock on her face...the night he’d kissed her.