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‘Yes.’ Cruz sounded impatient now. ‘I’ll have social functions to attend and I expect you to be by my side. As discussed.’

Trinity’s irritation flared again. and she welcomed it. ‘As I recall it was more of a decree than a discussion.’

Cruz’s jaw clenched. ‘You can call it what you want. We both know that, thanks to Rio’s dire financial state when he died, you had no way of offering independent support to my nephews without me. The sooner you accept this as your new reality, the easier it will be for all of us.’

And evidently Cruz still believed that state of financial affairs to be her fault, based on her alleged profligate spending of her husband’s money.

For a moment Trinity wanted to blurt out the truth—that Rio had hated Cruz so much he’d wanted to ruin him—but Cruz wouldn’t believe her, and she found that the impulse faded quickly. First of all, it wasn’t in her to lash out like that, just to score a point. And she also realised she didn’t want to see the effect that truth would have on him, when he clearly believed that his brother had been flawed, yes, but inherently decent.

And that shook her to the core—knowing that she resisted wanting to hurt him. Even as he hurt her.

She had to take responsibility for the fact that she’d agreed to the marriage of convenience with Rio. She really had no one to blame but herself.

And, as much as she hated this situation and being financially dependent, she couldn’t deny the immutable fact that Matty and Sancho were in the privileged position of being heirs to this great family legacy and fortune. She didn’t have the right to decide on their behalf, even as their legal guardian, that she was going to fight to take them away from all this and turn their lives into something it didn’t have to be.

The silence grew between them almost to breaking point, a battle of wills, until eventually Trinity said, ‘Fine. What time do I need to be ready?’

There was an unmistakable gleam of triumph in Cruz’s eyes now and he said, ‘We’ll leave at six. It’s a formal event, so wear a long gown. I’ll have Julia show you to the vaults so you can pick out some jewellery.’

Jewellery...vaults... Not wanting him to see how intimidated she was, or how easily he affected her emotions, she just said coolly, ‘Fine. I’ll be ready by six.’

CHAPTER FIVE

THE FOLLOWING EVENING Cruz paced back and forth in the entrance hall of the castillo and looked at his watch again impatiently. He forced himself to take a breath. It was only just six o’clock so Trinity wasn’t actually late yet. Just then he heard a sound and looked to where she stood at the top of the main stairs.

For a long second he could only stare, struck dumb by the glittering beauty of the woman in front of him. She was refined...elegant. Classic. Stunning.

Her dress was long—as he’d instructed—and a deep blue almost navy colour. It shone and glistened and clung to those impossibly long legs, curving out to her hips and back in to a small waist. It shimmered as she came down the stairs. It clung everywhere—up over her torso to where the material lovingly cupped full, perfectly shaped breasts. All the way to the tantalising hollow at the base of her throat.

Cruz was dimly aware that he’d possibly never seen less flesh revealed on a woman, and yet this dress was sexier than anything he’d ever seen in his life. Her hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck, highlighting the delicate slim column of her throat and her bone structure.

She gestured to herself and he could see that she was nervous.

‘What is it? Is the dress not suitable?’

Cruz realised he was ogling. He felt a very uncharacteristic urge to snap, No, the dress is entirely unsuitable. And yet that would be ridiculous. The dress effectively covered her from head to toe and he was reacting like an animal in heat—how the hell would he react when he saw some flesh? As it was, all the blood in his body was migrating from his brain to between his legs with alarming speed.

Any delusion he’d been under that he could successfully block out his awareness of this woman was laughable. She was under his skin, in his blood, and he couldn’t deny it. His intellect hated this desire for her but his body thrummed with need.

Calling on all the control and civility he possessed, Cruz locked eyes with Trinity’s—not that that helped. The colour of the dress only made her bright blue eyes stand out even more. They were like light sapphires, stunning and unusual.

‘It’s fine,’ he said tightly. And then, goaded by thoughts of how she’d dressed for Rio, he said provocatively, ‘Or perhaps you’d feel more comfortable in less material?’

To his surprise he saw the faintest shudder pass through her body. ‘No. I never felt comfortable in the clothes Rio wanted me to wear.’

He looked at her. For some reason that admission only made him feel more conflicted.

Tersely he said, ‘The driver is waiting—we should go.’

He indicated for her to precede him out of the castillo and his gaze tracked down her back and snagged on the enticing curves of her buttocks. He cursed himself. He was behaving as if he?

?d never seen a beautiful woman before in his life.

The driver helped her into the back of the luxury Jeep and Cruz got in the other side. As they were pulling out of the castillo courtyard his gaze swept over her again and he noticed something. ‘You’re not wearing any jewellery. Didn’t you go to the vaults?’

She looked at him and Cruz saw a flush stain her cheeks. ‘I did, but everything was so valuable-looking I was afraid to take anything.’

Something dark pierced him—was this finally evidence of her avaricious methods? Was this how she angled for more?

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