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Lola let him see her heart. She didn’t even try to hide the joyful tears suddenly falling down her cheeks.
Looking up at him as he sat beside her in the Ferrari, she whispered, “I love you, Rodrigo.”
He blinked. He said slowly, “You love the house—”
“No. You.” She lifted her hand to his rough cheek. “Not your money. Not these diamonds—” she glanced down at her necklace “—not even this beautiful house. I love you,” she said fiercely. Shaking her head, she smiled through her tears. “I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you. From the night we first kissed. All this time. Even when there was no hope.”
His gaze shuttered. “Lola—”
“I told you I was only marrying you for Jett’s sake. But it was a lie. I was scared to admit the truth, even to myself. But I can’t deny it any longer.” Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I love you. Only you. And I’ll love you forever.”
* * *
She couldn’t mean it.
Lola...loved him?
A horrifying flash of memories raced through Rodrigo of three other women speaking those exact same words, with the same apparent sincerity—right before they slept with another, with his engagement ring still on their fingers.
Only fools put faith in love. Fools and masochists. If he let himself love her, he knew how this would end.
And yet... His heart cried out for her.
He wanted to believe. His long-ago engagements felt like nothing—just the hasty, shallow infatuations of a young man—compared to what he felt for her now.
The thought shocked him.
Rodrigo’s gaze fell to the diamond engagement ring gleaming on Lola’s left hand. He couldn’t let himself love her. What if she betrayed him?
No. He took a shuddering breath. He couldn’t live through it. It would destroy him.
Rodrigo forced himself to give her a casual, crooked smile. “Lola, you don’t need to say you love me. I’ve already bought you the house. You can relax.”
Lola’s beautiful face, which had been hopeful and bright, closed up instantly. He felt an answering wrench in his chest that almost made him sick.
He knew she wasn’t pretending or buttering him up. She actually believed she loved him.
But he also knew it wouldn’t—couldn’t—last. He could not take the chance of loving her. They were married. They had a child. There was too much at stake to risk it on something so deceitful and destructive as love.
His jaw tightened. “We have guests. We should go inside.”
“Guests?” she said, with a tiny sliver of hope in her voice. “What guests?”
“It’s part of your surprise. A housewarming party.”
“Who did you invite?”
“Everyone.”
Her eyes lit up. “My sisters? My friends?”
Rodrigo suddenly wished he had. He should have invited the Morettis and Zaccos and those sisters of hers. It hadn’t even occurred to him.
“No,” he said quietly. “Industry people.”
The light in her eyes faded. “Oh.”
Looking down at her, he felt it again, that punch in the gut. And all of his Christmas plans he’d been arranging for weeks with Marnie, the mansion he’d been so excited to give his wife tonight as
