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‘Are you sure?’ Alejandro murmured, his usually relaxed expression surprisingly intense.
‘I…’ She hesitated. But then the confusing guilt was overwhelmed by a burst of urgency. Santiago was waiting for her. He needed this commitment and so did she. She pushed past the wave of anxiety—the sense of being adrift and untethered. ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’
Alejandro searched her face, but then he nodded. Tucking her against his side, he led her into the chapel. Everyone sitting in the pews stood and turned towards her as the music swelled. She dismissed the pulse of sadness that she didn’t know most of these people. But then she spotted Ana and Santiago, standing at the end of the aisle by the altar. Ana turned to flash a quick grin over her shoulder.
Cerys smiled back. But then her gaze found Santiago—his tall frame strong and indomitable—and her wayward emotions surged with the music.
He turned his head as if he could sense her need to see his face. Their gazes locked and passion flared—sharp and true and endlessly exciting—but with it came a fierce sense of connection.
His gaze raked over her, his appreciation so vivid her steps faltered. The ceremony, the congregation, even Ana and Alejandro became a blur—and all she could see was him. And that hard, handsome face which had become so precious.
Breathtaking.
Her lungs squeezed, as they had so many times—every time he touched her with such hunger, as if she were the only person he would allow to see his need. Every time he held her with such care.
She knew there was still so much of himself he kept hidden from her. But surely if she could be patient, and unlock her own secrets, she could coax his secrets out into the open too.
Alejandro placed her hand in Santiago’s and stepped back.
Santiago’s gaze intensified, the hot look—full of purpose and demand—rushed over her skin. She smiled, forcing the misgivings back.
Nothing could stop this marriage being wonderful. Because, whatever the truth was about her past, her future would soon be bound to this man now, for better or for worse. And she trusted him to take care of her.
Because she intended to take care of him, too.
CHAPTER NINE
‘Ay Dios mío!I thought that would never end!’ Santiago gripped his new bride’s hand, rushing through the lemon orchard towards the house on the edge of the vines.
The local priest had blessed their marriage three interminable hours ago. Then the wedding feast had dragged on for several eternities—every single one of the small congregation toasting their health with thecastillo’s finest vintages and indulging in the lavish spread of Catalan and Spanish delicacies prepared by an army of chefs. If the long wait to be alone wasn’t frustrating enough, he had been forced to dance under the stars with his new wife. To have Cerys in his arms, the simple but stunning white silk dress only enhancing his need, had been nothing short of torture. But finally,finally, he had her all to himself… And he intended to consummate this marriage now, without further delay.
‘Santiago, slow down before I break a leg or, worse, ruin this beautiful dress.’ Cerys’s breathless laugh did nothing to ease the sense of urgency and desperation in his gut.
Dios, she had looked so stunning, and so hopeful, walking towards him on his brother’s arm. The need—dark and dangerous and unstoppable—had blindsided him again, but right beneath it was a sense of desperation. The fear that if he did not claim her as his as soon as was humanly possible, if he did not possess her, she might slip through his fingers like moon dust. Which was, of course, ludicrous. She was his now, before God and his family, which meant they had the universe’s blessing to feed this infernal hunger until it finally burned itself out.
Stopping, he bent to scoop her up and over his shoulder.
She let out a very un-duquesa-like shriek.
‘Santiago! Put me down!’ she yelped, her muffled voice filled with exasperated laughter.
He found himself chuckling too, despite the incessant craving making his palms sweat. And his groin tighten.
‘You are too slow,’ he said as he gave her bottom a playful swat and was rewarded with another indignant shriek. ‘And I am tired of waiting.’
She wriggled furiously, inflaming his desires even more, if that were possible.
‘Don’t you dare drop me!’ she demanded as he bounded up the steps to the veranda with her bouncing on his shoulder.
‘Do not panic,’ he replied, the foolish grin spreading into his heart. When was the last time he had enjoyed himself this much, anticipation warring with a sense of fun which had been absent from his life until Cerys? ‘You are far too precious for me to risk dropping you.’
She stilled as he carted her over the threshold.
The villa had been decorated with bouquets of wild flowers from the meadows by the river at his request, for their first night together as man and wife. Her scent had always captivated him and he knew how much she had enjoyed the excursions she made to swim there with Ana.
He was not a romantic man. He did not believe in love and had never been given to romantic gestures, nor was this marriage supposed to be anything more than a means to an end, for both of them. But when he deposited her on her feet and her gaze connected with his—the translucent blue-green of her eyes sheened with surprise and happiness—his heartbeat slowed.
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes widening as her gaze swept over the hundreds of candles in glass jars illuminating the profusion of summer blooms. The romantic setting was only enhanced by the heady fragrance of the flowers—and the subtle scent of Cerys, sharpening his hunger for her… Always for her.