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“Better than love?” she whispered. He nodded.
“My loyalty. You never betrayed me. I will never betray you. I’ve made very few promises in life, but I’m making one to you now. If you marry me, I’ll make sure you’re never alone again. Our marriage will be for life.”
“For life?” She looked stricken. She said hoarsely, “I might consider a temporary marriage...to give our baby a name....”
“No.” His expression hardened. “A real marriage, Belle. A real home. Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what our baby deserves from us?”
She looked away and whispered, “I don’t know.”
Rising to his feet, he pulled her close and growled, “I think you do.”
Her dark gaze seared his. “I want to marry someone I can love and respect. And you’re not that man, Santiago, you know you’re not.”
The words caused a stab in his solar plexus. He hadn’t known he could still be hurt by rejection. He’d thought he’d buried his heart long ago. To be hurt now, when he was trying his best to please her, when he was trying his best to be honest, stung him to the core.
He took a deep breath. “Love—perhaps not. But we both love our daughter. And if you give me a chance,” he said in a low voice, “I will earn your respect. I swear it.”
She looked at the fairy lights and the flowers on the stone table, at the diamond ring still in his hand.
“I’m not your toy,” she said in a small voice. “Just because we slept together once and conceived this child, you can’t just have me whenever you want amusement. You don’t have any permanent claim over me.”
“You’re wrong.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “I do have a permanent claim. Just as you’ve had a claim over me, from the moment you came to my bed.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You,” he whispered, cupping her cheek. “And how you’ve bewitched me.”
Her eyes were big as she looked up at him. “You can find someone else—”
“No.”
“Yes you can! You’ve been with dozens of women since that night. Supermodels, actresses, socialites...” Her voice cut off as their eyes met. She choked out, “Haven’t you?”
Never looking away, he shook his head, his jaw tight. “There’s been no one. Because I don’t want any other woman. I haven’t, since our night together. I’ve only hungered for you.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her. His voice was a growl. “You will belong to me, Belle. You have no choice. I already belong to you.”
* * *
I already belong to you.
It wasn’t romantic. At all. He said it, Belle thought, as if he felt trapped. Oppressed, even. His dark eyes glittered.
“Are you telling me,” she breathed, “you’ve been celibate all these months?”
“Yes.” His voice was a low growl.
“But—but why?”
His eyes were dark. “You’ve ensorcelled me.”
Ensorcelled. Such a strange, old-fashioned word. Such a gleam in his dark eyes and his powerful body towering over her with all his strength. She suddenly felt like she’d gone back hundreds of years, to a simpler time.
Belle shivered, struggling not to feel so aware of his body close to hers. His eyes were dark beneath the softly swaying lights. She saw the arrogant curve of his dangerously seductive mouth.
He was right, she realized. She did belong to him. From the moment he’d kissed her that cold January night.
No. She couldn’t pretend it had been just that. It had been more.
She’d been able to be honest with him that night in a way she hadn’t been since her mother died. She never had to pretend with Santiago. She didn’t have to act cheerful and happy all the time. She could actually be herself.
