Page 77 of Devil's Bride

But I needed to learn control as well as patience with her. That much I’d already gathered.

In learning about her mother’s death so long ago, I’d begun to understand her intense protectiveness. She’d been a mother to her two siblings. We’d both lost someone important to us.

Another connection.

Another weakness.

“So let me repeat what you’ve said to me,” she said quietly, starting the conversation all over again. She had the documentation my attorney had helped put together. She’d made notes on the sides, had even written two codicils that I could remember and yet she wasn’t satisfied.

Or perhaps she was simply trying to push the inevitable out as far as possible.

“Go ahead.”

“We combine companies but use my father’s corporation. Yes?” She lifted her gaze.

“That’s correct. We change the name to something like Torres-Morales Enterprises.”

“Morales-Torres Enterprises.”

Her demand brought a smile to my face. “Fine.”

“We combine products and territories, working together on all transactions while modernizing the system so we’re completely in control of the quantity and quality that goes out the door. In addition, we beef up security and weed out any unwanted assholes who’ve caused either organization any trouble whatsoever.” She wasn’t reciting it from her notes but providing more concise verbiage regarding the decision.

“Aptly put. Yes.”

“We have a wedding, although not a huge one that we try and pull off in a couple days including a reception for show more than anything. We’re required to act like we actually care about each other, at least in front of any cameras that might capture our pictures. That will set the trap, at least in the beginning stages.”

“An excellent way of putting it. Who knows. You might enjoy being married to me.”

“As I would having rusty spikes driven into my hands and feet. It’s not happening, Jago. But I can be a good little actress when necessary.”

“I know you can.”

She held out her left hand, heaving an exaggerated sigh as she wiggled her fingers. “And I don’t even have an engagement ring. How can I believe your honest intentions?”

Her voice dripped of sarcasm. “I’ll take care of that.”

“Make sure it’s a big, no, huge diamond. I won’t settle for anything less.”

I offered her a smug smile. “Trust me, darling. You’ll have the best of everything.”

The conversation was lively as usual and as had occurred so many times before, I was aroused. That would need to be controlled.

“Where would this glorious event take place? I’m certain if you walked into a church you’d burst into flames.” As always, she threw out the question to see if she could stump me. Since I wasn’t religious by any stretch of the imagination, she was right that I had no interest in the bullshit involved around a traditional wedding.

At least I knew one that would work. And if the priest didn’t desire to perform the wedding given our history together, I’d encourage him to change his mind. My way. “The Church of Saint Felip Neri. It’s small, a traditional baroque-style church with incredible paintings by Joan Llimona.”

She seemed duly impressed, her eyes opening wide. Then she lifted her delicately dark eyebrow at me. “How many men did you slaughter on the altar?”

Grinning, I smashed my hand on the surface of my desk. “Enough, but it is a gorgeous location. Then we can have the reception at a restaurant of your choosing. Of course there will be tight security, but at least we’ll be in the public eye.”

“For all those incredible photographs taken of the couple madly in love.” She fluttered her eyelids on purpose and seeing her longlashes skimming across the shimmer of her cheeks was another turn-on.

One of many.

“In truth. Yes. That will go a long way in making a presentation and issuing a silent warning.”

She debated the option. “Fine. I couldn’t care less. I’ll search for a restaurant that would be suitable.”

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