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‘You can’t actually want to marry me, Rafael,’ she said.
Something in his face shifted. ‘You have no idea what I want.’ He turned to the door. ‘We will discuss this later.’
Then he strode out.
‘I’m sorry, Your Excellency, but the road back into the capital is blocked. There is no way to get to the palace, not tonight.’
Rafael glowered at his driver, the anger he’d thought he’d firmly locked down threatening his usual cold focus. Though it wasn’t Anton’s fault the wretched weather had turned against him.
The Regent grabbing the bride and leaving for his own residence without a word wasn’t going to be a great look. It was too much like his father’s scandalous behaviour for Rafael’s comfort, so he’d wanted at least to show up at the palace in person with an explanation.
However, it looked as though that wasn’t going to be an option if the roads were impassable.
‘By air?’ he asked, even though he knew the answer.
Anton shook his head. ‘No, Excellency. Not in this weather.’
Well, that was nothing he didn’t already know. And there was one good thing about the weather—if he couldn’t get to the palace then at least no one could get to him. Which meant now he had more than enough time to make sure Lia agreed to marry him.
He’d already decided that during the brief moment he’d had with her in the living area, before he’d had to leave to get control of the jealousy and anger he could feel seething under his skin: at her, at his brother, at himself.
He was sure of one thing, though. No matter what she’d said about this being her responsibility, it was his also and he had a duty both to her and his child. And, to him, that meant marriage.
Since he’d taken her from the cathedral in full view of everyone, their relationship would no doubt be in the process of being picked apart. People would put two and two together and come up with four.
Marriage was the only way to save them, to put a gloss of respectability over their illicit encounter and make sure neither she nor their child would be subject to gossip.
But it wasn’t only her agreement to a marriage he wanted. He needed to know why she hadn’t trusted him enough to come to him. Oh, she’d given him all sorts of reasons—fear, wanting to protect him from scandal, all kinds of things—but in the end it all boiled down to one thing: trust.
Why are you so surprised? Did you give her any reason to trust you?
Well, no. They’d been friends, though, or so he’d thought. Or, no, possibly friends wasn’t quite the right way to think about it, since he had friends and the way he felt about them wasnothow he felt about Lia.
He’d wanted her, been desperate for her. Had been obsessed with her. He knew he shouldn’t have kept wandering past her father’s study every night, but somehow that’s where his path had always seemed to take him no matter his intentions.
Those nights he’d spent sipping whisky and discussing everything under the sun with her, from politics to philosophy, science and the arts, social theory and everything in between.
Those nights where he’d realised he wanted her more than he’d wanted anyone or anything in his entire life and the fury he’d felt because she wouldneverbe his. She’d always been destined for Matias and for Santa Castelia.
She isn’t now, though. Now, she can be yours.
The possessive heat he’d been trying to keep at bay for the past three months poured suddenly through him in a searing flood, as if a dam had broken.
Because it was true, wasn’t it? He’d told her that she had to marry him, not fully thinking about what that would mean.
Her, in his bed. Her, whenever he wanted her.
He wouldn’t have to constantly watch himself whenever he was around her in case he gave himself away. He wouldn’t have to constantly fight his own intense desire for her or the jealousy that gripped him whenever he thought about her with Matias.
She would be his.
Possessiveness caught him by the throat, but he choked it down with an instinct he’d spent most of his life perfecting.
His emotions were too intense, too potent to allow free rein. Hadn’t his mother told him often enough that he had to be careful? That he had to control himself if he didn’t want to turn into his father? The only reason he hadn’t yet done so was because he wouldn’t permit himself off the leash.
Lia was a danger to that control, it was true, but marriage might help. It was likely she’d got under his skin so badly because of the forbidden element in their relationship and since that wasn’t a problem any more, he’d likely obsess about her less.
Knowing he’d be a father, too, was its own leash.
