“Tell me, then,” he said, feeling driven to know the answer all of a sudden. “If I am the kind of man you like, then why didn’t you do this with any of the other men who worked on your father’s rancho? Why didn’t you end up with them when you could have?”
“Because they weren’t you. That was the missing piece. Rough hands were never going to be enough.”
He was so aroused he could hardly think anymore. But before he took her again, he needed to know something. “Tell me,” he said, “your dream. Your biggest dream.”
When all of this was over and he set her free again, he was determined to see it done. The Alvarez rancho would be returned to her ownership, and he would be sure that her mother had no claim on it. Would be sure that it was entirely for Camilla.
He was going to give her Fuego, as well, in addition to the rest of the horses. He was determined on that score, too. Yes, the horse would have been an amazing asset for his own ranch, but he knew now that the animal had to go with Camilla. There was no other option.
But anything else, whatever else she desired, he was determined to ensure she had it. He would not be a man who left a woman broken. Not as his father had done.
He would ensure that whatever he had taken from Camilla tonight, he would restore it as best he could.
She looked blindsided by that question, confused. “Just the rancho,” she insisted.
“That is something you already had. Is there anything more you want? Anything?”
She looked down. “No. I can’t think of anything else. All I want is my normal life back. I couldn’t... I couldn’t begin to want anything else.”
He had a feeling that she was lying, but whether to him or to herself he didn’t know. And he was past the point of talking. Because her skin was soft and sweet beneath his touch, because her nipple had grown hard beneath his palm and his own body was growing hard in response.
He took the plate of meat and cheese and set it aside and pulled Camilla into his arms. “Whatever you want,” he said, “I will see that it is yours. You have my word.”
The word of a Navarro had never meant much. But Matías was determined to change that.
He was determined to change it for her.
THE DAY OF the wedding began like any other day, which surprised Camilla to a degree, as the entire thing loomed large in her mind. There was no reason to be nervous, and she knew that. She and Matías had been over this, and over it and over it. How it would all go, how long it was going to last.
It was not going to be a terribly formal affair.
She had been presented with a small selection of gowns earlier in the week, and she had chosen one that best suited the outdoor event.
She had a feeling it was very different to the dress that Liliana would have selected, but it was right for her. Simple, white and with clean, elegant lines.
Though, as Matías had pointed out, a bit wickedly—while holding her arms above her head, his hips locked against hers as his weight pressed her down into the mattress—she was no longer a virgin, and therefore, did not have to wear white.
She had scoffed at him and said that the symbolism of the white dress had long since gone out of fashion.
And then he had kissed her and done something with his tongue that had made it impossible to think. And after she’d had to concede—to herself—there was no point in pretending that she was anything near a virgin now. One week spent in his bed and he had introduced her to a great many sensual delights.
Just thinking about that made her face hot. But not from embarrassment. Nothing the two of them did together embarrassed her. And she wasn’t anywhere near finished with him.
She was already weaving fantasies about how they might continue this once their arrangement was finished.
Their ranches were only a few hours apart. It would be possible for them to continue seeing one another while carrying on separate lives. He could see to his business, and then when he had the chance he could come and visit her. They could sleep together. She could show him the house that she loved so much. Take him out back to the gardens, to the fountains, show him all the beautiful mosaics there. Take him on a ride through the trees, to the base of the mountains.
These were foolish fantasies, and she’d never in her life been prone to such things. But then she’d never wanted a man before. Had never been so...consumed—obsessed even—with another person. His body. His mind. His soul.
They had so much in common.
Well, except for the whole playboy international billionaire thing. But his soul. His soul matched hers in so many ways. Fiercely independent. Wanting to make his own way.
Except, much more than she, Matías was driven by demons from his past. She knew it, even if she couldn’t understand them all.
At night he slept fitfully. And she stayed by his side, her hand on his chest. Sometimes she stayed awake and simply watched him, as if somehow holding vigil beside him as he wrestled with his past pain even in his dreams, she could provide some kind of support.
He made her want.
It was an endless well of want, not one that simply began and ended in the bedroom, but one that seemed to go on and on. In the evenings, when she was sated in the physical sense, there was still something else that lingered. Something that gnawed at her, nagged at her. Something that tugged at her heart and made her physically ache.
She did her best to ignore it, because she felt that only insanity sat at the end of that path.
But now it was time for the wedding. And somehow, she had expected the sky to fall before then. But it had not. Instead, when she had woken early that morning, Matías was already gone. Probably off doing chores on the rancho, and there was nothing unusual about that, though often they woke together.
But then she set about to readying herself for the event. The wedding would take place in the late afternoon, followed by a dinner and dancing. Mostly, people from the village had been invited. Distant relatives. And of course, Matías’s grandfather would be making the trip, even though his health made it very difficult.
That made Camilla feel as though a weight was settled on her chest. Matías’s family was a source of such pain to him, she was angry that his grandfather was intruding on their day. Except, the day would not exist if not for his grandfather. Truly, he was the cause of it. It was more. He was the reason they were doing this.
And she knew that. Truly she did. But sometimes, that twinge around her heart made it difficult to fully internalize. To fully believe. Because it felt like more. Even though it shouldn’t, it did.
There were things about it that felt so very real. So real they hurt.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror, now more used to this glossier version of herself.
She was wearing a veil that reached the ground, blended together with the soft, gauzy fabric of her dress. Her lipstick was dark, drawing attention to her mouth, matching the dramatic winged eyeliner that the stylist had put together for her.
She felt beautiful. But it had nothing to do with the makeup. Nothing to do with the dress. And everything to do with the past week spent in Matías’s arms.
He never made her