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He grimaced, ‘You are legally my nephews’ guardian, and I don’t trust you not to exert your right to do something drastic. Marriage will make me their legal guardian too, and I’m not prepared to settle for anything less to ensure their protection.’
Trinity shook her head and took a step back, hating herself for it but needing some space. ‘You’re crazy if you think I’ll agree.’
With lethal softness he said now, ‘Who do you think has been funding your existence these past few months?’
‘You,’ she said miserably.
‘If you were to walk out of this house with my two nephews that allowance would be stopped immediately. How on earth do you think you would cope without a nanny?’
Desperation clawed upwards. ‘I could get a job.’
Cruz was scathing. ‘You’d be happy to lower yourself to Mrs Jordan’s status again? Because that’s all you’re qualified for—either working as a maid or as a nanny.’
Trinity refused to let him intimidate he
r. ‘Of course—if I had to.’ A voice screamed at her—how on earth could she work with two small children in tow?
Cruz was obdurate, and Trinity knew with a sinking feeling that one way or the other he wasn’t leaving until he’d got what he wanted. Her. And his nephews.
‘It’s very simple. I don’t trust you not to take advantage of your position. And you seem to be forgetting a very pertinent fact.’ He looked at her.
Eventually, with extreme reluctance and the sensation of a net closing around her, she said, ‘What fact?’
‘Since Rio’s death those boys have had nothing but their name. The only way they will receive their inheritance now is through me, and I’m not going to let that happen unless you marry me.’
The net closed around Trinity as the full significance of that sank in. She would be responsible for not letting Matty and Sancho receive their inheritance?
‘That’s blackmail,’ she breathed, astounded at his ruthlessness.
Cruz all but shrugged, supremely unperturbed. ‘Their legacy is considerable, and as such I have a responsibility to see that it, and they, are protected.’
Affront coursed through her. ‘I would never touch what’s theirs.’
Cruz’s lip curled. ‘And yet you managed to divest Rio of a small fortune within less than a year of marriage?’
Trinity opened her mouth to defend herself again but from the look on Cruz’s face she knew it would be pointless to say anything. Not in this emotive atmosphere.
She whirled away from that mocking look in his eyes and took refuge by a solid object—the couch. When she felt relatively composed again, she turned back to face him.
‘There has to be some other way.’ She seized on an idea. ‘I can sign something. A contract that says I have no claim to their inheritance.’
Cruz shook his head and moved, coming closer. ‘No. Marriage is the only option I’m prepared to consider. I’ve decided to move back to the De Carrillo ancestral home in Spain, near Seville. The bank is flourishing here in the UK, and in America. Its reputation has been restored. It’s time to build on that, and presenting a united family front will only strengthen the business and in turn my nephews’ legacy.’
Rendered speechless, Trinity could only listen as Cruz went on.
‘Locking you into a marriage with me is the only way they’ll get their inheritance and I’ll be satisfied that you’re not going to prove to be a threat to my nephews. And as it happens a convenient wife will suit my needs very well. But I’m afraid I can’t offer you the bling of married life with Rio. You might have been keeping a low profile since my brother died, but I would estimate that once the reality of living in a remote castillo hits you’ll be climbing the walls and looking for a divorce before the year is out...which I’ll be only too happy to grant once I’ve got full custody of my nephews.’
The extent of his cynicism shocked her anew. She’d surmised from Rio’s account of his early life that things probably hadn’t been idyllic for Cruz either, but she’d never imagined that he carried such a deep-rooted seam of distrust.
Trinity hated it that it aroused her empathy and curiosity—again. She cursed herself. She’d felt empathy for Rio and she’d let him manipulate her. If it hadn’t been for Mateo and Sancho she’d tell Cruz where to shove his autocratic orders and storm out.
But how could she? He was threatening to withhold their very legacy if she didn’t comply. And there was no way she was leaving her boys in his cold and cynical care alone. She was all they had now.
Surely, she thought quickly, if she said yes he’d realise what he was doing—marrying someone he hated himself for kissing—and agree to make some kind of compromise? Trinity shoved down the betraying hurt that Cruz would never even be suggesting such a thing if she didn’t have something he wanted. His nephews.
She called his bluff. ‘You leave me no choice. Yes, I’ll marry you.’
She waited for Cruz to blanch, or for realisation to hit and for him to tell her that he’d only been testing her commitment, but he showed no emotion. Nor triumph. After a beat he just looked at his watch, and then back at her, as cold as ice.
