“What jeweler? What for?” she asked, the answer landing about the time the words left her mouth.
“For your ring.”
She looked back down at the paper. “Right.”
Luca turned in his chair. “Hi.”
Rodriguez attempted a smile, his jaw tightening. “Hi, Luca.”
“Why do I need to see the jeweler?”
He lifted one dark brow, his focus shifting back to her. “So you can choose the ring.”
“Well, I don’t see why I really need to choose it.”
“Do you have a crown?” Luca asked, his green eyes still fixed on Rodriguez.
Rodriguez looked back at Luca, a flash of discomfort crossing his handsome face. “There is a crown. One that has been in the Anguiano family for a long time. But I don’t wear it.”
“I would,” Luca said, turning back to his drawing.
Rodriguez’s brows locked together. “What were you saying?” he asked, his dark eyes not leaving Luca.
“I don’t see why I need to choose the ring.” Carlotta bent and set the picture down on the table, then straightened. “I mean, it’s a ring.”
“Your engagement and wedding ring.”
“Yes, but it isn’t as though …” She looked down at Luca and frowned. “Luca, I’m going to go talk to Rodriguez for a moment.”
Luca looked up. “But I’m going to color.”
“That’s fine, just stay at the table. Color on the paper only. Out here.” She stepped out into the corridor and Rodriguez followed, pulling the door mostly closed behind him.
“You don’t seem to be distracted by Luca’s interjections,” he said.
“He’s a kid. He does that.”
“I would not have been permitted to do that.”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “And you don’t think he should be allowed to?”
“There is very little from my childhood I would use as a model when raising a son. I don’t mind his comments. I’m just not used to it.”
“Oh.” She relaxed her stance. “I was saying it’s not like our marriage has a whole lot of significance. You intend to do as you please. It isn’t as though the ring will have any real value to me.”
“You’ll want it to match your style, sì?” he asked.
“I suppose but …”
He frowned, his forehead creasing. “Why aren’t you pleased?”
“Pleased?”
“You get to look at diamonds and pick your favorite. Women like that.”
She shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of diamonds.” Jewelry didn’t mean anything. It was money, money could buy a lot of things. Jewels sent to her at birthdays and holidays while her family stayed hundreds of miles away, that didn’t do a lot to offer comfort.
“And you do not want … more?”
“Does it bother you?” she asked.
“I thought this would please you,” he said, his tone exasperated.
“I didn’t say I was displeased, Rodriguez. I just … I didn’t know you were going to the trouble of having a jeweler come with a display for me to peruse. I wasn’t expecting it. Neither do I require it.”
“Let me give you something,” he said. The tone in his voice changed, there was something different there, something dark. She didn’t truly understand it, but in some ways, she doubted if he did either.
“I’ll choose a ring. But you are already giving me something. You’re giving Luca your name. It … it means a lot to me. The Santina name has been nothing more than a curse to him in so many ways. Because him bearing my last name marks him. No matter how much I wish it didn’t,” she whispered the last words, the pain strangling her. Whenever she thought of what she’d done to her son, to his life, with her bad decisions, it made her feel like she was bathing in the shame of it all over again. In the agony.
He deserved a mother who made better choices. Her mother and father deserved a daughter who made better choices. At least in this marriage to Rodriguez, she had a small shot at redemption.
Not just for herself. For Luca. For him, bearing the Anguiano name would erase so much stigma from his life. In time, people might forget. He might stop being punished for her sins.
That alone made the marriage worth it.
“I don’t know if my family name will serve him any better,” Rodriguez said.
“It will.”
Their eyes met and Carlotta felt the impact like a punch to her stomach, making her breath shallow, her entire body tense. There was something about him, something beyond the masculine beauty of his face, the perfectly square jaw, the dark, compelling eyes. He possessed a kind of sexual magnetism. The sort of charm that could make a woman lose her mind, and her clothes, in less time than it would take for him to properly execute a pickup line.
She could feel her body changing. Her breasts getting heavy, her limbs trembling, her stomach tightening, an ache building in her core. All it took was a look. He didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to move, and her body was ready for him. For his touch.
How did he do it? How did he peel her control away, strip by strip, like a flimsy silk covering? Not even Gabriel had been able to do that. She’d made the decision to cast off propriety and have an affair with him. With Rodriguez … she was trying to ignore it. Trying to hang on, and yet she couldn’t.
She backed away, gripping the knob on the playroom door, counting on the reminder that her son was right there to be her lifeline, to be her link to sanity.
“I’d better go check on Luca.”
He nodded sharply, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ll send one of my staff up to sit with him in a couple of hours when the jeweler arrives. Is that all right with you?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. It might come out all breathy and shivery. She certainly felt shivery. She backed into the playroom and closed the door behind her, trying to ignore the steady pounding of her heart.
She knew about men like him. Men with charm. Men who made promises with their eyes. Promises of pleasure that young, naive women might mistake for a promise of love.
But the only real promise in men like him was the promise of heartbreak. She knew that. She had the battle scars on her heart, on her life, to serve as reminders.
Rodriguez was a danger, not simply to her heart, but to her control. She had to keep her control. She couldn’t afford to let it go. She would give him an heir, and after the wedding, she would give him her body. But it would only be for that purpose.
It could never be anything more.
“Good night, figlio mio.” Carlotta leaned forward, the cinched waist of her dress digging into her less than toned stomach, and kissed Luca on the forehead.
“Are you going to sleep too?” he asked, his eyes trained on hers. Luca was always so tuned in to her. She imagined it was because it was just the two of them. She poured everything into him. All of her love, all of her energy. It was the most exhausting, rewarding thing she’d ever done with her life.
And now it was changing. Her sweet, peaceful, somewhat boring life.