The Doctor's Marriage for a Month

by Annie O'Neil

Isla pursed her lips, looked at her hand, then nodded, tendrils of auburn hair masking her expression. He pulled his fingers into a fist, willing them not to tease a few of those wayward curls into submission. This wasn’t the time to go all Romeo and Juliet on her.

  She sniffed and shook her hair back, as if she was annoyed at his choice of paint for their new living room rather than being thrown into a vortex of fear and confusion. Most people would have been annoyed if their lives depended upon marrying a complete stranger.

  “Do you always carry engagement rings around your neck? Just in case?”

  She met his gaze straight on, defiance crackling through her blue eyes where he’d convinced himself he’d see gratitude.

  She began tugging it off of her finger. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you take this ring and let me have a phone so I can ring the police? I’d prefer that type of ring.”

  He almost laughed. Isla’s hair wasn’t the only thing made of fire.

  Being forced to marry someone against your will was not ideal. Even so... He genuinely couldn’t see another way round this.

  He took the ring and slid it back on to her finger. “The walls have ears, amorcita. Best to keep your voice low.”

  “Why can’t we call the police?”

  She pressed her lips together until they drained of blood, glaring at him until he explained.

  “The police won’t intervene. They let matters of this variety sort themselves out.” Just as they’d refused an escort for the ambulance that might have saved his brother’s life.

  “What on earth does that mean?”

  “Too many pockets are lined with ill-gained gold.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  It keeps their families safe.

  Diego’s gaze flicked to the door, then back to Isla. “The ring. It’s my grandmother’s. I have never put it on anyone’s finger. Never wanted to.”

  He let the words settle between them, but the intensity of his delivery meant they might as well have been shot directly from the center of his heart.

  It shocked him to realize how genuine his sentiments were. Did he love her? Of course not. Would he take a sacred vow to care and protect her? Without a doubt.

  Why her? Why now?

  He smashed the thoughts back into his Questions to Remain Unanswered cupboard and kicked the door shut.

  “I need a reason to believe you,” she said. “Just one.”

  “Your life is at risk. Your father’s life.” And he couldn’t let what happened to his brother happen to another family.

  Isla’s blue eyes glassed over, then cleared. She pulled on a fresh pair of gloves, and both of them were glued to the sight of the sparkling diamond disappearing beneath the light blue Neoprene.

  A man walked in. He looked tired. Disheveled. As if he was there under duress.

  Isla’s eyes widened as she took in the man’s dog collar.

  Trust Noche Blanca to rustle up a priest in the dead of night, thought Diego.

  The black thought that he might have been brought in earlier to deliver the last rites to Isla and her father crossed his mind. He slashed the thought in two, reminding himself that the poor man was more likely to be there to do the same for Cruzito.

  His expression told Diego the last thing he thought he’d be performing was a wedding ceremony.

  A grim smile teased at the corners of Diego’s mouth. This was Axl putting him to the test. The “big doctor man” claimed to be in love with this woman? Well, there was only one way to prove it as far as Axl Cruz was concerned. Follow his lead. He’d met and married his own wife in a whirlwind twenty-four-hour romance. So Diego would do the same.

  “Why is he forcing us to do this now? In the middle of the night?”

  “It’s a test.”

  He heard the emotion in his chest transforming his voice into something he’d never heard come from his own throat. Low, gravelly. Urgent.

  “He promised long ago never to hurt my family. If you want to get out of this unharmed we must marry. I told him you were my fiancée. That we met when you first got here and fell in love in an instant. That I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

  Isla clenched the edge of the table with both hands. Was there a glimmer in her eyes? Just a hint of wanting what he said to be true?

  ¡Ni en sueños!

  He was reading into things. Turning this into something it very distinctly wasn’t. If he let himself go down that path none of them would survive.

  Caring, loving, mourning—allowing himself to feel that triumvirate of powerful emotions had got him where he was today. Trapped by his own vow always to serve. No matter what the circumstances.

  None of it would bring his brother back. But doing this one thing might ease the pain.

  He looked into Isla’s eyes, drilling it into his brain that doing this was purely to save the Professor and his daughter. Nothing more. No matter what the blood careening round his veins was suggesting.

  Diego reached across and cupped Isla’s face in his hand as a lover would. “If you want to save your father you will follow my lead.”

  She shook her head. Whether it was a no or a response to his touch was unclear. He pulled her closer—not to control her, but to hide the panic in her eyes from the guards as they darted about the room.

  This house, a mishmash of surgery and hideaway, was hardly a dream destination for a wedding day.

  He could easily picture Isla wanting something informal on the beach. A simple dress. Bare shoulders, perhaps. Some flowers in her hair. A look of pure and unfettered love in her eyes...

  An insane urge to promise her something else, something better once they got through this, launched into his throat, barely giving him time to bite it back.

  The gunman and the priest were openly waiting for Isla to make a move. She had seconds, if that, to decide.

  * * *

  Isla closed her eyes as Diego ran his hand down her neck and cupped it, moving his other hand to the base of her throat, resting his thumbs on her collarbones. She knew what he was doing. Playing a role. An insane role to see through an insane plan. But at this juncture did she have any other choice?

  Her eyes flickered open as he whispered her name. When she connected to his rock-solid gaze one last time he said, “Do this. Marry me.”

  His touch, the intimacy, the intensity of his request—it should have felt threatening. Terrifying, even. Astonishingly, from Diego, it felt more...protective. Caring...

  It was a gesture that, if seen by someone who didn’t know them, would have made the onlooker think she and Diego had known one another for years. Had been lovers, even. The way she naturally leaned into his caresses made it appear even more so. Little would they know it was terror at her father’s imprisonment compelling her to believe Diego. Believe there was a way out of this mess.

  Can you do this? Marry this stranger?

  Axl appeared in the doorway and began speaking to Diego in a low voice.

  Diego held up a hand. “Momentito, por favor, Axl.”

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Axl held his ground.

  She caught his eye as he turned to leave the room. He looked at her and smiled, but there was no warmth in it.

  “You’re a lucky woman.” He tipped his head toward Diego. “This is the only man on this island that I trust as one of my own.”

  Isla was about to say her father was every bit as trustworthy as Diego, but felt Diego’s fingers press into her shoulder.

  Axl turned and left the room.

  “Isla.” Diego spoke urgently now. “Listen to me. Marry me. It’s the only way to save your father’s life.”

  Glacier water shot through her veins. For the first time since the gunmen had shown up at the sanctuary Isla felt genuine fear. And that was saying something.

  All
that had seemed surreal—dreamlike, even—now hardened into ice-cold reality.

  She had to do it.

  “Your father’s work is very important, but these men are...they’re tricky to negotiate with.”

  No kidding. People who wielded guns and threatened to kill folk often were.

  She pulled back, her spine braced as new fear struck. “Will it be...? Will it be a real marriage?”

  Diego’s full lips thinned. His expression spoke volumes. He wasn’t the sort of man to take advantage of a woman. “It’s a means to an end. You need protection. If you marry me you will be family—just as your father will be.”

  “You’ll be lucky.” She spat the words more out of fear than venom.

  Much to her surprise, Diego nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I will be. You may need to stay here awhile, but if we go ahead with this now we can negotiate your father’s release. Get him on a plane back to Scotland. Safe.”

  The words were a salve to her raw emotions. Even so... “How long is ‘awhile’?”

  He shrugged as if time meant nothing. In these circumstances she supposed it didn’t. “Marriage is something they take seriously here. You must stay with me for at least one month before—”

  “One month? Why?” The logistics of staying away that long crashed into her solid, practical side.

  “It’s the end of the mating season. For the sea turtles,” he qualified.

  As if he needed to. It wasn’t as if he and she were going to be doing any mating during this...this sham marriage.

  “I—” She stopped herself.

  One month. It would save her father’s life.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. She would stay forever if it meant her father could live the rest of his life without fear of harm.

  “Fine. A month.” She wanted to quibble. Say it sounded to her like he was making things up on the fly. She said it again so he knew she meant it.

  He continued to explain, masking their chat in that low, rumbling voice of his that might just as easily be lavishing her with compliments.

  “In public we must be seen as man and wife. In my home—our home—” he corrected “—we will work out the particulars of how it will work.”

  “The marriage?”

  “Sí, mi amor. The marriage.”

  She knew enough Spanish to know he was using another term of endearment. Was he coercing her or comforting her?

  She sought answers in those dark eyes of his and found solace in them. Honesty. He wouldn’t hurt her. She would be safe.

  This was definitely something she would never be able to encapsulate on the postcard she’d promised to send Dougray Campbell, whose blood pressure she’d finally got under control. Not that any of this was doing much for hers.

  She could hear the blood roaring around her head, her heart, but when she blinked and realigned her focus on Diego’s dark brown eyes she felt safe again.

  What had happened to him to make him sacrifice his own future this way? If these men were as violent as they seemed and he had one favor why was he using it for her?

  It wasn’t for her. She was a means to the end. Saving her father was the goal. He was promising peace and economic stability for the island. To a man who clearly loved his home and his profession, a prosperous, peaceful nation would surely be the answer to a thousand prayers.

  When the priest cleared his throat Diego gave him a quick nod, then put his entire focus on Isla. “I know nothing about this is normal. I know you must be scared.” He looked her straight in the eye. “But you can trust me. We can work out how we approach things later. How we untangle the net. But if you want to save your father we must do this. We must marry. Now.”

  “Now—now?”

  The priest stepped toward them.

  Well, that answered that, then.

  At least her long engagement to Kyle had meant she’d been dropped before the wedding bells chimed.

  A mad thought flew into her head.

  Had fate thrown her into Diego’s arms? Had things fallen to bits back in Loch Craggen because she was meant to be here?

  One month...

  A month she already knew was going to change her life forever.

  She heard the clank of a gun against the doorframe as one of the Noche Blanca members entered the room.

  Violence had thrown them together. Violence that wouldn’t end if she didn’t agree to this hare-brained scheme. This life-saving scheme.

  Isla’s brain was reeling so fast she felt dizzy.

  Her father was the kindest, most gentle man she’d ever known. After her mother had died his compassion had doubled instead of evaporating. Not many men who’d lost a wife to senseless violence would have found it in their hearts to see her dreams through.

  You might have thought a quiet life with his daughter, researching otters in the farther reaches of Scotland, might be enough for him. But, no. His passion to carry on with his wife’s work with endangered species had become his lifeblood.

  Isla knew more than anyone that her father would be the last one to save himself if it meant compromising an endangered species. Science and nature spoke to him more loudly than common sense. More loudly than his love for his child.

  In her case blood was thicker than water. She was going to have to agree to this hare-brained plan.

  At least she wasn’t required to fall in love with him.

  Say yes. Save yourself. Save your father. Figure out how to get out of it later.

  What if you don’t want to?

  “How can I be sure they’ll let my father go back to Scotland? Safely?”

  Diego dropped his hands to his sides. She watched his fingers stretch, then curl into fists as he answered. “He gave his word.”

  She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “So you’re saying if I agree to marry you—bearing in mind they’ve been aiming guns at me and my father all night—they will let my father go back to Scotland unharmed?”

  Diego nodded, not a trace of humor lighting up those eyes of his.

  Something else was. Something indecipherable.

  Pain? Loss?

  “And if he refuses to go?”

  “For now? He must. Until the end of the egg-laying season. It is the only way or they will kill him.”

  That answered that, then. “How do I know they won’t kill me once my father’s on the plane?”

  “They won’t.” His voice was solid. He didn’t blink.

  “Why should I believe anything they say?”

  He tilted his head to the side, eyes still glued to hers. It was a gesture that said a thousand things at once—including the one that counted the most.

  You can trust me.

  “When Noche Blanca make a deal, they honor it.” He turned and shifted his gaze to the doorway, where a pair of men in black clothes were wheeling the gurney with Cruzito on it into yet another room where his father was waiting. “They owe me.”

  It was all she needed to hear.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “SÍ, QUIERO.” DIEGO now understood the phrase “going through the motions.” Hardly what he had imagined his wedding day would be like. Not that he’d imagined it. Ever. Going through years of relentless family tragedy had a way of casting a pall over the idea of marital bliss.

  He nodded to the priest.

  So this was it. He was halfway to becoming a married man. There’d be some hoops to jump through to get...unembroiled...but it wasn’t as if life hadn’t prepared him for a bit of elasticity when it came to survival.

  That was how it worked on El Valderon. You picked a system and went with it. Above the law. Within the law. Or his way. Skirting the perimeters of everything to help those who needed medical care. It was that simple.

  There’d be peace
one day. Justice. But for now...? He was strangely looking forward to a few weeks of seeing the world through the eyes of his fiery-haired wife. A woman who looked about as thrilled to marry him as Axl had looked when he’d agreed to let Isla’s father travel back to Scotland with a guarantee of safety. A lifelong guarantee. It had come with the condition he’d presumed it would. Isla must stay here, with her esposo.

  In just a few moments she would be Isla Vasquez.

  Funny... He liked the sound of it. Being part of a team. Doing things on his own had its benefits, but to have someone by his side...

  Alto! This was an arrangement. Not a love match.

  Diego spun his finger round in a speed things up gesture—which the priest ignored. He seemed keen on fleshing out the ceremony. The man wasn’t oblivious to what was happening. It was the middle of the night and gunmen were aiming their weapons at the happy couple. Foolishly, the poor man was giving her a chance to back out.

  Isla stared at the priest, her lower lip clamped so tightly beneath her teeth Diego wouldn’t be surprised if she soon drew blood.

  He was tempted to lean down and kiss her. Just to give that lip some relief.

  Dios. That was an excuse. He wanted to kiss the bride. His bride.

  The doctor in him knew that adrenaline and testosterone were overriding common sense. It was why men could roar into battle. Fear masked as courage fueled by the body’s biological will to survive.

  He watched Isla as her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand the priest’s extensive preamble to the very simple question Will you marry Diego Vasquez?

  A blast of heat lit up areas he hadn’t thought about in the same context as marriage. One-night stands. A handful of friendships with benefits. Those had kept him running through the years. And they would carry on doing so after Isla was safely back home—because, he reminded himself, none of this was real.

  “¿Quiere a Diego Vasquez por esposo?” The priest gave Isla an expectant look.

  Diego squeezed her hand and gave her a soft smile. “At this point you’re meant to say, Sí, quiero.”

  “I am not going to say anything I don’t understand,” she snapped.