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And he knew the feeling was dangerous, that he should get up and walk away. Yet he didn’t. He sat there and he looked back at her and said, ‘No, this is true. What other rebellions have you tried?’
‘There is no need to miss them,princesa,’ he murmured, the ache in his heart getting heavier at the memories. ‘We can have them again, I promise.’
She lifted one black brow. ‘But only if I marry you, yes?’
‘Si.’
Interestingly, this didn’t seem to annoy her as much as it had earlier, because she only nodded before sitting herself regally on the couch. ‘The promised orange juice, if you please.’
Despite the strange heaviness in his chest, amusement flickered through him. ‘Do you expect me to wait on you, Lia?’
She gave him a cool look, every inch of her queenly. ‘Yes.’
It made him smile. She was ridiculously appealing like this.
‘Your wish. My command.’ He moved over to the coffee table and poured her a glass of orange juice, then held it out to her. She took it and he made sure that their fingertips didn’t brush.
Judging from that feeling in his chest, his control was suspect so it was best that he tried to limit temptation.
Lia took a sip of her orange juice, then leaned back on the couch, her blue eyes lifting to his. ‘Why marriage? Why is that so very important to you?’
He frowned, the question unexpected. ‘I told you. I don’t want our son or daughter having to—’
‘No,’ she interrupted calmly. ‘I don’t think that’s the reason. Or at least not the real reason.’
Rafael tensed, though he wasn’t sure why. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘There aren’t many men who’d throw a woman over their shoulder and carry her off from the church on the day of their wedding, before absolutelyinsistingon marrying her themselves.’ She took another sip, her gaze on his very steady. ‘That’s a drastic course of action simply to spare your child a couple of derogatory names. Especially for men who don’t like scandal.’
He didn’t like talking about his mother, but there was no reason not to tell Lia. ‘My mother was a single parent,’ he said shortly. ‘My father got her pregnant, then left her alone in Barcelona with no means of support. It was a miserable existence for her and it left her very unhappy, and I will not do the same.’
‘But there is financial support. You don’t need—’
‘Marriage also gives a degree of legal protection both to you and the child.’ He still felt tense. ‘I know you want to be chosen, Lia. In which case you should know that I have never proposed marriage to anyone before. You are the first and the only.’
She lifted a shoulder. ‘Yes, but as I pointed out to you earlier, only because I’m pregnant. It would never have entered your head if I wasn’t.’
Frustration wound through him. He didn’t know what more she wanted from him. ‘You were Matias’s bride. Of course it never entered my head.’
‘And if I hadn’t been?’
He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘What exactly are you asking me, Lia?’
She looked back for a long moment, then abruptly put down her juice. Her blue gaze was suddenly very, very direct. ‘If I hadn’t been Matias’s bride, would you have married me, Rafael?’
CHAPTER SIX
ITWASAdangerous question to ask and she knew it. But she couldn’t help herself.
Rafael stood on the other side of the coffee table, the fire leaping behind him and outlining his tall, masculine figure. He’d discarded his jacket and waistcoat, wearing only the tastefully striped trousers in light and dark grey and a simple white shirt. It suited him, highlighting his olive skin and black hair, the clean lines of his broad shoulders and lean waist.
He stood casually, apparently relaxed with his hands in his pockets. Yet his silver eyes burned.
She’d come downstairs, intending to greet any more seduction attempts with a definitive yes, only to have him organise food, pour her orange juice, then try to push his marriage agenda on her, which was not what she wanted.
But then he’d reminded her of those nights together, of how they’d talked and discussed and argued. And a sudden realisation had gripped her—that though she might know how his brilliant mind worked, how science interested him and what he thought about the latest political situation in Europe, she had no idea about anything else.
There were facts about his life that she knew from her internet research, but that’s all they were. Just facts. And while she did know now what made him growl in the dark and what made him groan with pleasure, she’d didn’t know his heart. She didn’t know his hopes or his dreams or what he’d wanted to be when he grew up.
