by Abby Green
He sucked in a breath. ‘Yes...touch me.’
His eyes devoured her perfect curves, slender and yet lush all at once. An intoxicating mix. Innocent and siren.
Innocent.
She laid her hand flat on his pectoral, and then bent her head and put her tongue to the blunt nub of his nipple. Cruz tensed. He’d never even known he was sensitive there. Small teeth nibbled gently at his flesh and his erection grew even harder at the certainty that she would be a quick study...that she would send him to orbit and back all too easily.
A fleeting moment of vulnerability was gone as she explored further and took him in her hand again, moving over his flesh with more confidence.
He groaned and put his hand over hers. She looked at him—suddenly unsure—and it made his chest squeeze. ‘If you keep touching me like that I won’t last...and I need to.’
‘Oh,’ she said, a blush staining her cheeks.
Cruz cupped her chin and said roughly, ‘Come here.’
She moved up and his arm came around her. He hauled her into him so that she half lay on him, breasts pressed against his side. Her nipples scraped against his chest. Cruz pressed a hot kiss to her mouth, his tongue tangling lazily with hers, revelling in the lush feel of her body against his and the taste of her.
When he could feel her moving against him subtly, he gently pushed her back so that he was looking down at her. Her sheer beauty reached out and grabbed him deep inside, transcending the physical for a moment. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was spread around her head like a golden halo.
She was perfection. And everything she’d told him, if it was true—Cruz shut his mind down. He couldn’t go there now.
He explored her body with a thoroughness that made her writhe against him, begging and pleading. But there was no way he wasn’t going to make sure she was so ready for him that when they came together there would be no pain. Only pleasure.
He smoothed his hand over her belly, down to where her legs were shut tight. He bent his head again, kissing her deeply, and as he did so he gently pushed them apart and felt her moist heat against his palm.
He cupped her sex, letting her get used to him touching her there, and explored along the seam of her body, releasing her heat, opening her to him with his fingers. He moved his fingers in and out. He could feel her body grow taut, and then he lifted his head to look down at her.
‘Come for me, Trinity...’
And as if primed to do his bidding, she did, tipping over the edge with a low, keening cry. He had to exert extreme control to stop himself from spilling at the stunning beauty of her response.
Her hand was gripping his arm, and he could feel her body pulsating around his fingers. He looked at her for a long moment and said, ‘If you don’t want to go any further now, that’s okay.’
Her eyes opened and it seemed to take her a second to focus on him. She shook her head. ‘No, I’m okay. Keep going...’
Cruz sent up a prayer of thanks to some god he’d never consulted before. He reached over her to get protection from the drawer. When he was sheathed, he came up on his knees between her legs, pushing them apart, hands huge on her thighs.
Cruz came forward, bracing himself on one hand on the bed beside her, and with his other hand notched the head of his erection against her body, using her arousal to ease his passage into her. He teased her like this until she started panting a little, and arching herself towards him.
Unable to wait a second longer, slowly, inch by inch, he sank into her body, watching her face. She stared up at him, focused, and something inside him turned over even as all he could think about was how perfect it felt to have his body filling hers.
And then, when Cruz was so deep inside her that he could barely breathe, he started to move in and out, with achingly slow precision. She wrapped one of her legs around his waist and he had to clench his jaw as it deepened his penetration.
‘I’m okay...’ she breathed. ‘It feels...good.’
He couldn’t hold back. The movements of his body became faster, more urgent. Trinity was biting her lip, her pale skin dewed with perspiration. Cruz reached under her and hitched her hips up towards him, deepening his thrusts even more. Trinity groaned.
‘That’s it, querida, come with me.’
When she shattered this time it was so powerful that he shattered with her, deep inside her, his whole body curving over hers as they rode out the storm together.
* * *
Trinity woke slowly from a delicious dream, in which she had arms wrapped tight around her and she was imbued with an incredible sense of acceptance, belonging, safety, home.
Trust.
As soon as that little word reverberated in her head, though, she woke up. She was in Cruz’s bedroom, amongst tangled sheets, and her whole body was one big pleasurable ache.
And she was alone.
When that registered it all came back.
Trinity’s sense of euphoria and well-being faded as she recalled telling Cruz everything.
She’d trusted him with her deepest vulnerabilities.
Trust. Trinity went even colder as the magnitude of that sank in. She’d let Cruz into a space inside her that had been locked up for as long as she could remember.
Trust was not her friend. Trust had got her where she was today. First of all she’d trusted herself to follow her instincts and allow Cruz to kiss her that night. Then she’d trusted Rio, believing his motives for hiring her and marrying her were transparent and benign. Instead he’d manipulated her into becoming a tool of destruction against Cruz.
And now that urge was whispering to her again...to trust Cruz just because he’d made her body weep with more pleasure than she’d ever known could be possible. And because he’d admitted that he hadn’t been with another woman since that night in his study. Since he’d kissed her.
Just remembering that now made her chest grow tight all over again. She’d never expected him to say that. What if it had just been a line, though? To get her back into bed? And she, like the fool, had believed him...
Feeling panicky now, at the thought of Cruz suddenly appearing and finding her when she felt so raw, she got out of bed and slipped on a robe. She picked up her severely crumpled dress, her face burning.
There was no sign of him as she went back to her room, and after a quick shower and changing into clean clothes she went into the main part of the apartment. She was very conscious of her body—still tender in private places—and it only made her feel more vulnerable. As if Cruz had branded her.
She knew he wasn’t there even before she saw that it was empty and an acute sense of disappointment vied with relief. What had she wanted? To wake up with his arms around her? Yes, whispered a voice, and Trinity castigated herself. Men like Cruz didn’t indulge in such displays of affection.
Her phone pinged from her bag nearby just then, and Trinity took it out to see a text from Cruz. Instantly her heart skipped a beat. Scowling at herself she read it.
I had an early-morning meeting and some things have come up so I’m going to stay in Madrid for another day/night. My driver is downstairs and he will take you to the airport where the plane is waiting whenever you are ready. Cruz.
Trinity dithered for a few minutes before writing back.
Okay.
She almost put an automatic x in the text, but stopped herself just in time.
A couple of minutes later there was another ping from her phone. She put down the coffee she’d just poured to read the text.
Just okay?
Feeling irritated at the mocking tone she could almost hear, she wrote back.
Okay. Fine.
Ping.
How are you feeling this morning?
Trinity’s face was burning now. Sh
e would bet that Cruz didn’t text his other lovers like this. They’d know how to play the game and be cool.
She wrote back.
Totally fine. Same as yesterday.
Ping.
Liar.
She responded.
I thought you had meetings to go to?
Ping.
I’m in one. It’s boring.
Trinity was smiling before she stopped herself and wrote back.
Okay, if you must know I’m a little tender, but it feels nice.
She sent it before she had time to change her mind, feeling giddy.
Ping.
Good.
Not knowing how to respond to that smug response, Trinity put the phone down and took a deep breath. Her phone pinged again and she jumped.
Cursing Cruz, she picked it up.
We’ll talk when I get back to the castillo.
The giddiness Trinity had been feeling dissipated like a burst balloon. She went cold. Of course they would talk. He’d had a chance to process what she’d told him now, and she could imagine that he didn’t appreciate her telling him those less than savoury things about Rio.
That wasn’t even the half of it. He didn’t know the full extent of just how much Rio had despised him.
Trinity wrote back.
Okay.
Cruz didn’t respond. She left the coffee untouched and put her arms around herself as the full enormity of what had happened the previous night sank in. She walked to the huge window in the living room and stared out, unseeing.
The prospect of Cruz going over what she’d told him and digging any deeper than he’d already done, finding out the true depth of hatred that Rio had harboured for him, made her go icy all over. She couldn’t do that to him.
And that was the scariest revelation of all. The intensity of the emotion swelling in her chest told her she was in deep trouble. The walls she’d erected around herself from a young age to protect herself in uncaring environments were no longer standing—they were dust.
First two small brown-eyed imps had burrowed their way in, stealing her heart, and now—
She put a hand to her chest and sucked in a pained breath. She could no longer claim to hate Cruz for what he’d done in forcing her into this marriage—if she ever truly had.
From the start she’d been infatuated with him, even after what she’d perceived to be his rejection of her. And then she’d seen a side to him that had mocked her for feeling tender towards him. But hadn’t he shown her last night that he could be tender? Achingly so.
And, as much as she was scared that he’d just spun her a line about there being no women since he’d kissed her, just to get her into bed, she realised that she did trust him. He was too full of integrity to lie about something like that. He didn’t need to.
And that left her teetering on the edge of a very scary precipice—although if she was brutally honest with herself she’d fallen over the edge a long time ago. Right about the time when Cruz had insisted on her going to bed so that he could sit up with the twins and she’d found herself yearning to be part of that tableau. A family...
She whirled away from the window, suddenly needing to leave and get back to the castillo—put some physical space between her and Cruz. One thing was uppermost in her mind—there couldn’t be a repeat of last night. She wasn’t strong enough to withstand Cruz’s singular devastating focus and then survive when he got bored or decided to move on—which he would undoubtedly do.
For the first time, shamefully, Trinity had to admit to feeling unsure of her ability to sacrifice her own desires for the sake of Matty and Sancho. And she hated Cruz for doing this to her. Except...she didn’t.
She loved them all and it might just kill her.
CHAPTER NINE
TRINITY HATED FEELING so nervous. She smoothed her hand down over the linen material of her buttoned shirt-dress. She’d changed after Julia had come to tell her that Cruz was back and wanted to see her.
She hated that she wondered if it was a bad omen that Cruz hadn’t come looking for her himself. If not for her, then for the boys, who’d been asking for him constantly.
Cursing her vacillation, she lifted her hand and knocked on his study door, feeling a sense of déjà-vu when she heard him say, ‘Come in.’
She went in and saw Cruz was behind the desk. He stood up, his gaze raking her up and down, making her skin tingle. She was conscious of her bare legs. Plain sandals. Hair tied back.
She closed the door behind her.
Cruz gestured to a chair. ‘Come in...sit down.’
His voice sounded rough and it impacted on her.
She walked over and took the seat, feeling awkward. Not knowing where to look but unable to look away from those spectacular eyes and that tall, broad body. Remembering how it had felt when he’d surged between her legs, filling her—
Cruz sat down too. ‘How are the boys?’
Trinity fought against the blush she could feel spreading across her chest and up into her face. Sometimes she really hated her colouring.
‘They’re fine... They were asking for you, wondering where you were.’
An expression that was curiously vulnerable flashed across Cruz’s face. ‘I’ll go and see them later,’ he said. ‘How are you?’ he asked then.
Trinity fought not to squirm. ‘I’m fine.’
An altogether more carnal look came across his face now. ‘No...soreness?’
Trinity couldn’t stop the blush this time. ‘No.’
The carnal look faded and suddenly Cruz stood up again, running a hand through his hair. Trinity’s gaze drank him in, registering that he must have changed when he got back as he was wearing soft jeans and a polo shirt.
When he didn’t say anything for a moment she dragged her gaze up to his face and went still. He looked tortured.
She stood up, immediately concerned. ‘What is it?’
He looked at her. ‘I owe you an apology...on behalf of me and my brother.’
She went very still, almost afraid to say the words. ‘You believe me, then...?’
Cruz paced for a moment, and then stopped and faced her again. He looked angry, but she could recognise that it wasn’t with her.
‘Of course I do.’
She sat down again on the chair behind her, her legs suddenly feeling weak. She waited for a feeling of vindication but it didn’t come. She just felt a little numb.
Cruz shook his head. ‘After Rio died I took everything his solicitor told me for granted. The truth was that I was in shock...grieving. Based on what he’d told me, I believed you deserved to be the focus of my anger and resentment, so I didn’t do what I should have done—which was to investigate his finances with a fine-tooth comb. I’ve started to do that now,’ he said heavily, ‘and I had my own legal team haul in his solicitor for questioning yesterday. That’s why I stayed behind in Madrid.’
Trinity’s throat moved as she swallowed. ‘What did you find?’
‘Did you know he was a chronic gambler?’
She shook her head, shocked. ‘No, of course not... He was away a lot. And worked odd hours. He never really explained himself.’
Cruz was grim. ‘He hid it very well. It seems that as soon as he knew what was happening he spent even more money, and he started putting your name on things—like authorising the redecoration of the house, ordering credit cards in your name but using them himself...’
Trinity breathed in, feeling sick. ‘So that was the trail directly back to me?’
Cruz nodded. ‘He made sure you were seen out and about, at fashion shows and events, so if anyone ever questioned him he could point to you and say that you’d been instrumental in his downfall.’ Cruz continued, ‘You shouldn’t feel like he duped you too easily—he d
id it to countless others along the way. Including me. If I hadn’t been so blinkered where Rio was concerned, and had looked into his affairs before now—’
‘Then you wouldn’t have felt obliged to marry me because you’d have known I wasn’t a threat,’ Trinity said quickly.
She was avoiding his eye now and Cruz came over.
‘Look at me,’ he commanded.
After an infinitesimal moment she did, hoping her emotions weren’t showing.
‘I’m Matty and Sancho’s uncle, and I’m going to be in their lives. You are the only mother my nephews have known and I was always going to come back here. Marriage was the best option.’
Trinity felt herself flinch minutely. Marriage was the best option. Suddenly feeling exposed under that amber gaze, she stood up and stepped around the chair in a bid to put some space between them. He was too close.
‘We haven’t finished this conversation,’ he said warningly.
Her need to self-protect was huge. ‘I think we have. You’ve said sorry and I accept your apology.’
‘There’s more, though, isn’t there?’ he asked now, folding his arms. ‘That night—the night of the party at my house—you wanted to tell me something but I shut you down. What was it, exactly?’
Trinity felt panicky and took a step back towards the door. ‘It was just my concerns about Rio—he’d been acting irrationally and I was worried, and we’d had that row—’ She stopped suddenly and Cruz seized on it.
‘You had a row? What about?’
She cursed her mouth and recognised the intractability in Cruz. He wouldn’t let this go. He’d physically stopped her leaving before, and if he touched her now...
Reluctantly she said, ‘I’d confronted him about being so...erratic. He was spending no time with the boys. He was drinking. And I’m sure he was doing drugs. I threatened to call you and tell you I was worried.’
Rio had sneered at her. ‘Go on, run to lover boy and cry on his shoulder and you’ll see how interested he still is. Cruz doesn’t care about you, or me. He only cares about the precious De Carrillo legacy. The legacy that’s mine!’