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“They’re not people?”
“Not normal people. They all have advanced degrees from places like Oxford and Princeton. They’re billionaire entrepreneurs and ambassadors and famous artists. They all grew up in castles with a full staff of servants...”
“You really are a romantic, aren’t you?”
“The point is, we have nothing in common.”
“You do.” His dark eyes gleamed. “Me.”
She stared at him, stricken. Then she turned away, looking out silently at the dark, sparkling city.
Last night, Santiago had brought her to the heights of ecstasy in bed. But he’d also proven how thoroughly he commanded her body, even when her heart tried to resist.
He’d given her deep pleasure, made her feel things—do things—she’d never imagined. But that morning, she’d once again woken up alone. Only now, she had a big diamond ring on her left hand.
She’d surrendered to his marriage demand, both for their child’s sake and because he’d left her no choice. She’d given up any hope of love. She looked at her engagement ring, glinting beneath the city lights. So hard. So cold.
Like the man who’d given it to her.
Alone in the ranch’s master bedroom that morning, she’d gotten dressed in an old stretchy T-shirt from high school, the faded words Bluebell Bears emblazoned over the picture of a bear that stretched over her big belly, and a pair of loose khaki shorts and flip-flops. She’d found him sitting at the breakfast table drinking coffee, wearing a sleek black button-up shirt and black pants, more sophisticated than she’d ever be. She’d trembled in the doorway, still feeling last night’s kisses, wondering how he would greet her now they were engaged to be married for the rest of their lives.
“Good morning,” he’d said, barely looking at her. “I trust you slept well. We will be returning to New York today.”
That had been it. No warmth. No friendliness. No acknowledgement of the night they’d spent in each other’s arms. No matter how exhilarating, amazing, explosive the lovemaking, it was empty, with no love to fuel the fire.
And now he’d dragged her back to the fairy-tale city that had broken her heart.
Belle whispered in the back of the SUV, “I can’t possibly be your hostess in New York society.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“They’ll laugh in my face. Society people are even meaner than casting directors. I saw what they did to Letty, ripping her apart just because her father went to jail...”
“That was different.”
“They’re meaner than rattlesnakes.” Belle looked down, feeling a lump in her throat as she stared down at the gorgeous, obscenely huge diamond engagement ring. “And they’ll all think the same as you did. That I’m a gold digger who tricked you into marrying me, by deliberately getting knocked up.”
“No one will think that,” he said firmly, and his arrogant expression made her roll her eyes. Santiago really thought he could control everything, even the thoughts of strangers. She shook her head.
“You’re just not the kind of man who marries a girl like me. And this ring...”
“What about it?” he said shortly. He sounded on edge. She wondered if she’d offended him.
“It’s beautiful, but it looks weird on my hand. I’ve spent my life working. This ring should belong to a princess who’s never had to lift a finger.” She looked down at her casual shorts and high school T-shirt over her baby bump. “Your trophy wife should be an heiress or supermodel or movie star or something. Not a short, dumpy waitress.”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” His jaw tightened, and his dark eyes turned hard in a way she didn’t understand. “And movie stars are highly overrated.”
Belle frowned, looking up at his handsome face. “Did you ever date one?”
He blinked, then abruptly turned away, looking at the bright city lights sliding past their chauffeured SUV.
“Romantic love is a dream of lust and lies,” he said in a low voice. “It all turns to ash in the end.” He turned to her. “Be grateful it’s not part of our relationship.”
Belle started to protest, then remembered how she’d felt when Justin dumped her right before their wedding. How she’d felt when she’d found out he was not only getting back with his ex-wife, but they were also expecting the baby she could no longer conceive. Love hadn’t felt so great back then.
“It’s not always like that,” she tried.
His cruel, sensual lips twisted. “Give me an example of a romance working out.”
