Natalie had never really told her the full truth. She’d never fully admitted how one part of her loved the prospect of being Santos’s bride. The thought of the money and the celebrity, the excitement of being in all the lifestyle magazines. But meeting the man she really cared for had brought her up short, making her realize she needed so much more—emotionally—if she was going to commit herself to marriage.
‘She knew that I wanted heirs to my fortune, and that being linked with the Montague name would open doors in society where money would not. And she wanted the lifestyle she’d always had. So she suggested a plan that would be of mutual benefit.’
And not believing in love—believing himself to be unlovable—Santos had found in that proposition the answer to everything he wanted.
‘I would have been good to her, Alexa. She would never have wanted for anything. And of course, if she was my wife, then I could hardly prosecute my father-in-law. But I would have him where I could see him and I’d be able to keep a very close eye on anything he and his wife got up to.’
‘Not prosecuting him—that wasn’t part of the bargain?’
She read the answer in his face, but he obviously needed to confirm it.
‘I don’t even know how much Natalie was aware of her father’s position. She knew he had money troubles, but I doubt if she knew just how they’d come about.’
‘But in the end that wasn’t enough for her. Not when she met John.’
‘No, she surprised me there,’ Santos admitted thoughtfully. ‘This new man must be something special.’
Just for a moment Alexa wondered if he might actually take that thought a little further, if he would use the word ‘love’ as the one thing her sister had wanted more than money. But when Santos spoke again she knew a terrible sense of disappointment.
‘But it left me with a problem. Your father still owed me the money.’
‘And so you decided, quite cold-bloodedly, that I could replace my sister. No?’ she questioned when he shook his head slowly.
‘No, Alexa. Never that. Can’t you see that there is never anything I do where you are concerned that is cold-blooded? The truth is the exact opposite. You heat my blood until I can’t think straight. You make me do crazy things.’
Now Alexa really needed the chair she was holding on to. Her legs had turned to cotton wool beneath her and she had to sit down before she fell down. But as she sank into the seat opposite him Santos pushed his chair back with a rough, scraping sound and got to his feet, swinging away to pace restlessly around the kitchen. And that felt far worse than before because, sitting down, she was so much more aware of how big and dark and dangerously imposing he was.
‘Wh-what sort of things?’
‘Things I would never have imagined were possible. Things like coming here to return a pair of shoes that I hated the sight of because they reminded me of how badly they had damaged your feet.’
‘You said you had come for me.’ Her voice shook with the combination of laughter and tears that that last sentence had created.
‘And I had. I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I wanted you so badly that I couldn’t stay away. And I knew that you wanted me too. Of course, it also solved the problem of your father …’
‘Of course,’
Alexa’s voice was low, shaken. But then what else had she expected?
Had she really thought that there would be a wild declaration of love after all this? That Santos would suddenly find that most vital emotion had been locked away in his heart all that time? He didn’t believe in love, didn’t even know what it was, so how could he feel it? He wanted her, that was all. It might be enough for him. But it wasn’t enough for her.
She loved this man desperately. But could she love enough for the two of them? She didn’t think so.
She might love him now but without being loved back, without anything to feed it then would that love be strong enough to survive? Could she love this man for the rest of her life and know that he did not love her without it destroying her, leaving her empty and broken because she was getting nothing in return?
Nothing but the burning passion which was all he felt now. And which one day, inevitably, must surely burn itself out.
‘And so you came here to demand that I marry you.’
‘Not demand. It was what you wanted too.’
‘No.’
She forced herself to say it and knew from the way that he suddenly stopped pacing, the way he spun on his heel, whirling round to face her, that she had shocked him almost as much as she had shocked herself by flinging the single syllable out into the room, splintering the atmosphere with its force.