The Tycoon's Charm: The Tycoon's Paternity AgendaHonor-Bound Groom

by Michelle Celmer

  Something knotted tight and low in Alex’s belly. Something possessive. Something wild. Every instinct within him roared that he plunder her lips, that he drag the delicate fabric of her nightgown from her body and expose her to him, allowing him to feast on her feminine glory. To rush her to dizzying heights she had no experience of.

  To mark her as his own.

  She is inexperienced, he reminded himself sternly, forcing himself to hold back, to slow down.

  He let his hands skim across her shoulders and gently cup the back of her neck, tilting her head to him. He lowered his face, his eyes locked upon hers. His entire body rigid with the need to take this as gently as humanly possible.

  His lips were only millimeters from hers. Already he could feel her breath against him, smell the sweetness of her breath.

  “Alex, wait!”

  Through the cloud of passion that controlled him he heard the plea in her voice. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a shuddering breath, constraining his desire.

  “You are frightened. I’m rushing you. Do not worry, Loren. I will make tonight one you will never forget.”

  “No, it’s not that,” she said, pulling out of his arms, creating a short distance between them.

  Already his body cried out for her. Craving her slender frame against his, aching for her warmth to envelop him.

  “Then what is it?” he asked, fighting back the edge of frustration that threatened to spill over into his voice. He didn’t want to frighten her more with his hunger.

  “It’s about us. Our marriage.”

  “Us?”

  A cold finger of caution traced a chilly path down his spine. What was she speaking of? They were married. Tonight would see the consummation of that marriage.

  “Yes, Alex, us. I love you. I’ve always loved you one way or another. I accept that you don’t return my feelings in the same way.”

  “You know I care for you, Loren,” he asserted, determined to salve her concerns as quickly as possible.

  “I know you do, but more as a brother would a sister.”

  “Believe me, my feelings toward you are most definitely not brotherly.”

  “Be that as it may.” She waved her hand to disregard his words. “Even knowing you don’t love me, I agreed to marry you in part because of my feelings for you, but also to honor my father and his promise to yours.” She lifted her eyes to him. Eyes that glistened in the candlelight with unshed tears. “Can you honestly tell me that you have done the same?”

  Tell her he’d married her to fulfill their fathers’ vow to one another? No, not even he could lie about that. Not after the lies he’d already told before his grandfather in the church today. Lies that still coated his tongue with a tang of unpleasantness. The old promise was the reason he’d chosen to seek her out rather than find a bride on Isla Sagrado, but it was not the sole reason he’d decided to marry.

  “No,” he responded, his voice flat and tinged now with the anger he bore toward himself more than to her. “But you have asked me to be honest. If you do not like my truth then you have only yourself to blame.”

  “But you have married me with the intention of producing an heir, is that true?”

  She stood upright before him, holding her chin high, her shoulders straight, demanding his response.

  “Of course.”

  “To dispel the governess’s curse?”

  Words failed him momentarily.

  “The curse is nothing but an overstated legend. It has no bearing on us or on our marriage.”

  “So you didn’t suddenly decide to travel all the way to New Zealand and then to marry me to put Abuelo’s mind to rest? To prove that the curse wasn’t real? Can you truly say that if it hadn’t been for the curse you would ever have followed through with our fathers’ wishes?”

  He couldn’t answer, to answer truthfully would damn him forever in her eyes—to tell a lie was impossible on top of the abomination of falsehoods he’d committed already.

  “I see,” Loren continued. “Well, then. It appears that we are at an impasse. I could have accepted almost anything from you, Alex, but I will not accept deception. You brought me here under false pretences.”

  “You say you love me, and you did sign the prenuptial agreement,” Alex reminded her, the words like gravel on his tongue. “You cannot back out now.”

  “I will meet the expectations of that agreement. You will have your heir, Alexander del Castillo, but I see no reason why we should enter into a physical marriage.” A sharp note of bitterness crept into her voice. “In this day and age of technology why would you even want to consider the hassle and inconvenience, or indeed even the inconsistency, of making love?

  “After all, if the act is to be as clinical and bereft of mutual affection as I imagine it will be, surely a petri dish will do, as well.”

  Loren’s words hung like icicles in the air between them. Anger welled and rolled within him, much like the violent surf they could hear from the beach below through her open casement windows.

  “You are refusing me your bed?” he finally managed through a jaw clenched so tight he thought his teeth might shatter.

  “No. I am refusing you my body.”

  Six

  Loren barely dared draw breath.

  Alex stood before her, magnificent in his anger. Were she less determined about her decision she would have quailed in the face of his fury. To be honest, were she less determined she would have given in to the rush of longing that had drawn through her body like a fine silken thread as he’d touched her.

  All her life she’d waited for the day that Alex would turn to her and welcome her into his life, and into his arms. Too bad that when that day had finally come she’d been forced to spurn him. She had never believed it would matter so much to her that he had hidden from her his true reasons for entering into their marriage.

  In the lead-up to the wedding it had been enough for her to believe, however misguidedly, that they stood a chance of making their marriage work. But in the stark face of what she’d learned today, it was clear that Alex hadn’t been above using her to get what he wanted. That it was for his family didn’t assuage the hurt deep inside her. Nor the anger she bore at herself for having been such a blind and love-struck fool where Alex was concerned.

  That she loved Alex with a passion that went soul deep was undeniable. But now she realized it most definitely wasn’t enough. In her naïveté she’d thought she could change his perception of her as a child to that of a woman. A woman capable of great passion and unswerving loyalty.

  Clearly she was still that naive child to have thought she could make a difference—make him begin to love her. He’d taken advantage of the promise made between her father and his and, shamefully, she’d let him. She was no innocent in this. She should have known and understood what was at stake. She should have asked questions, demanded answers.

  But, no. She’d been focused on fulfilling a childhood dream. Of returning to the land of her birth and of being his bride. She’d allowed herself to be duped—heck, allowed? She’d been a fully willing participant into a marriage that stood no chance of being real right from the beginning.

  Well, now he had his bride. He had his baby-making machine. That didn’t mean she needed to debase herself any further by pandering to his machinations. Whatever the scheme he’d hatched with his brothers, she would do no more than her duty. She would give him the baby he required, but she’d find a way to live through this with what was left of her dignity intact.

  “I think you’d better leave,” she said, her voice breaking on the last words as she struggled to hold back the tremors that threatened to turn her into a quivering wreck.

  Alex’s eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at her in silence.

  “P-please, Alex. Go.”

  “This is not over, Loren. I am not a man who likes to be thwarted.”

  Loren didn’t answer, instead turning her back even as her chest throbbed with the pain of rej
ecting him and her eyes burned with the tears she refused to shed in his presence. She had what was left of her pride and she would not let that go. Not for anything. Not for anyone. Not even the man she loved with every heart-wrenchingly pain-filled breath in her body.

  Behind her, Loren heard her chamber door close with a gentle sound. The fact he hadn’t slammed the door behind him spoke volumes to the measure of his control. Control he would no doubt have been exerting over her behind the filmy curtains of her pedestal bed right now, had she let him.

  Something twisted deep inside her, something sharp and raw, and her inner muscles clenched on the emptiness. She looked at the bed now and knew she would not sleep there tonight. She could not.

  Loren crossed to the deep-set casement window that had been flung open to the velvet night. Despite the warm night air that coursed past her to fill the room, Loren was suddenly beset by a chill that went to her very bones.

  Without a doubt spurning Alex tonight was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do in her life—the hardest decision she’d ever had to make.

  Her fingers gripped the age-old stone of the window ledge so tight they became numb, and she stared out at the night sky wishing things could have been so very different.

  * * *

  The sound of gentle knocking at her bedroom door woke Loren from the fitful slumber she’d finally fallen into around dawn. She straightened from the chaise longue she’d eventually sought rest upon and quickly threw her pillows and the comforter back onto the bed. Everyone knew how servants gossiped and, despite their loyalty to the del Castillo family, the staff here were no different.

  She crossed the room to unlock the door and took a rapid step back when she saw it was not her maid, but Alex standing on the other side.

  “Buenos días, Loren. I trust you slept well?”

  He was absolutely the last person she expected to see this morning. She’d anticipated being totally left to her own devices after her rejection of him last night. Instead, here he was, looking and smelling divine. As if what had transpired between them had never happened. As if she’d never rejected him.

  “As charming as your nightgown is, you will need to change for our excursion today.”

  “Change?”

  “Of course, unless you want to be seen out and about Isla Sagrado in your night wear.”

  “We…we’re going out? I thought—”

  “Yes, I’m sure you thought that after last night I would not want to be near you. You underestimate me, Loren. We are newly married. We are expected to be seen together. Do you honestly believe that after everything I’ve put in place to make our marriage happen that I would just dissolve into the castle walls because you have decided we are not to sleep together?”

  There was a dangerous edge to his voice. A hint of a reined-in temper simmering just beneath the surface of his urbane exterior.

  “Of course not. I don’t know what I thought, to be honest.” Loren dragged in a breath, her senses instantly on alert as his fragrance infiltrated her confused mind and sent her pulse hammering in her veins. “When do you want me to be ready?”

  “Our first appointment is in about half an hour, near Puerto Seguro, so about five minutes ago would be ideal.”

  “Appointment?”

  “Yes, a tradition in my family when someone marries.”

  Thinking it was to be with the family lawyer, Loren spun away and yanked open her wardrobe, choosing a slim-fitting ice-blue suit. Her arm was stayed by Alex’s hand upon her. She couldn’t help it, she flinched, and didn’t miss the frown that descended over Alex’s features. He pointedly withdrew his hand from her bare skin before speaking.

  “That’s too formal. Wear something comfortable but smart.”

  Without any further information he spun on his heel and left her room. For a moment she just watched him. Her eyes drinking in the beauty of his movement, the breadth of his shoulders beneath the lightweight cream shirt he wore teamed with dark caramel-colored trousers. The way those trousers skimmed the cheeks of his buttocks.

  She forced herself to blink, to break the spell he’d unwittingly woven about her, enticing her. She shoved the suit back into the wardrobe and flicked through her hangers, finally settling upon a black sundress with an abstract white print patterned upon it, relieving the starkness of the background. A mid-heeled pair of strappy sandals would hopefully give the outfit just the right balance Alex had specified.

  Gathering her dress and a fistful of clean underwear, Loren swept into her bathroom. She wanted nothing more than to wash her hair but she doubted time would allow it. She swept its length into a shower cap and stepped beneath the stinging spray of the shower before the water had even reached temperature, gasping slightly against the cold.

  She reached for the shower gel and liberally lathered it over her body. Had things been different, she wondered, would it be Alex’s hands sliding over her skin now? Her nipples beaded into tight buds at the thought. Shaking her head at herself, Loren quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the shower cubicle and reached for a towel to dry off.

  It only took a moment to dress and spritz a light spray of perfume on her pulse points. Her hair she brushed into a fiercely controlled ponytail, which she then braided and pinned in a spiral against the back of her head, all the while trying to forget how it had felt last night as Alex had brushed her hair. He’d shown her a tenderness she knew he’d have brought to his lovemaking—had she let things get that far.

  Her reflection, however, definitely gave her pause. The sleepless night had left dark shadows beneath her eyes. It would take everything she had in her cosmetic arsenal to restore some semblance of the dewy bride Isla Sagrado had seen yesterday.

  It took her a further ten minutes but by the time Loren met Alex in their communal sitting room she was satisfied that she could cope with anything the day brought.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as she checked her handbag for her sunglasses.

  “You’ll see when we get there,” Alex responded enigmatically.

  “What about breakfast?”

  “Breakfast was a couple of hours ago but there will be a morning tea where we are going. Can you wait until then?”

  Loren hazarded a look at her husband from under her lashes as she pretended to search in her bag for something else. Her husband! The solid truth of those two words rammed into her chest and clutched at her heart with a sudden twist. At her sharply indrawn breath, Alex gave her a look.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  “Fine, I’m fine,” Loren hastened to assure him. “And yes, I can wait for something to eat.”

  “Then we should be on our way.”

  He held the door to their suite open and escorted her along the wide corridor and down the sweeping stairs to the front entrance of the castillo. There, in the massive entrance hall, the staff had all assembled in a line, some bearing small gifts, others with nothing to give but the warmth in their hearts and the smiles on their faces.

  How could she have forgotten the age-old Sagradan custom? It was tradition that the staff celebrate the master’s marriage with offerings. On that occasion, the master and mistress of the property would also give the staff a small monetary gift.

  “Have you—” she started to ask in a whisper.

  “I have it under control,” Alex assured her as one by one they greeted the people who worked tirelessly behind the scenes in the castillo.

  As she went forward to accept each small gift—some traditional in the old ways, such as the symbol of fertility that was pressed into her hand by the cook, and some modern—Alex in turn gave each staff member an envelope.

  By the time they reached his waiting Lamborghini outside, Loren’s arms were full of the tokens bestowed upon them. She made it into the car without dropping a one, and once settled she allowed them to tumble gently into her lap. Alex reached behind her seat to extricate a box and passed it to her before turning the key in the ignition and easing the car
into gear and out through the castle gates.

  Loren gently placed each token into the box, her fingers lingering on the Sagradan symbol of fertility, an intricately carved egg, before placing it inside and closing the lid.

  “That was lovely,” she commented, her hands firmly holding the box on her lap as they drove along the coastal road toward Puerto Seguro.

  “You think so?” Alex asked, raising one dark brow. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d have cared.”

  “Of course I care. Why would you think I wouldn’t?” Surprise brought a defensive tone to her voice.

  Alex merely shrugged and Loren felt herself bristle at his nonchalance.

  “Don’t judge me by your other women,” she said quietly, but with a strong hint of steel.

  “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Alex replied. “You are nothing like them.”

  Unable to come up with a suitable response, Loren lapsed into silence. She watched the road ahead of them through burning eyes and wished things could have been different. Of course she was nothing like his other women. If the tabloids had carried even an ounce of truth, those women had been confident, sophisticated and unerringly beautiful. Women like Giselle, for example.

  For what felt like the umpteenth time, Loren castigated herself for having hoped for anything else from Alex other than what she’d ended up with. She knew better than most that life was no bed of roses. The only child of parents who’d loved passionately and fought bitterly, she’d seen what a push-me-pull-you state marriage could be. And she’d experienced firsthand the pain that ensued when such a marriage irrevocably broke down.

  But at least her parents had enjoyed many years together before the cracks had started to show. It was more than what her immediate future held, unless she was fortunate enough for a fertilization procedure to work on the first attempt. If she could fill her life with a child then she could quite possibly manage to be happy.