A Game Of Vows Part 3

"I know. But I like him. I respect him. How often do you get that in a marriage?"

"I don't know. I've only ever had separate bedrooms and blackmail in my marriage. What excuse did you give him?"

"I told him how much I loved you, dearest," she bit out.

He chuckled. "You always were an accomplished little liar."

"Well, I don't feel good about this one."

"You felt good about the others?"

She truly didn't know the answer. "I ... I never thought about how I felt about it. Just about whether or not it was necessary. Anyway, I don't lie as a matter of course."

"You just lie about really big things infrequently?"

"Every job application has started with questions about college. Didn't I get near-perfect grades at university? Didn't I have a prestigious internship at Vega Communications? No lies. No one wants to know about high school, not once you've been through university."

"And your fiance?"

"Never asked many questions. He liked what he knew about me." And neither of them knew all that much. Something she was realizing now that she was being haunted by her past. She and Zack had never even slept together. Not for lack of attraction. She'd been quite attracted to him, impossible not to be, but until things were legal and permanent between them she'd felt the need to hang on to that bit of control.

It was so much easier to deny her s.e.x drive than to end up back where she'd been nine years ago. Being that girl, that was unacceptable. She never would be again.

"Lies by omission are still lies, querida."

"Then we're all liars."

"Now, that's true enough."

"Show me to my room," she said, affecting her commanding, imperious tone. The one she had gotten so good at over the years. "I'm tired."

A slow smile curved his lips and she fought the urge to punch him.

"Of course, darling."

This time, he picked up her bags without incident and she followed him into her room. Her room. Her throat tightened. Her first experience with homecoming. Why should it mean anything? He had replaced the bedding. A new dark-colored comforter, new sable throw pillows, new satin curtains on the windows to match. The solid desk she'd loved to work at was still in its corner. Unmoved. There was no dust on it, but then, Eduardo had always had a great housekeeper.

"This is ... perfect," she said.

"I'm glad you still like it. I remember you being ... giddy over it back when we were first married."

"It was the nicest room I'd ever been in," she said, opting to give him some honesty, a rare thing from her. "The sheets were ... heaven."

"The sheets?"

She cleared her throat. "I have a thing for high-quality sheets. And you definitely have them here."

"Well, now you get to live here again. And reap the benefits of the sheets."

She arched a brow. "My fiance was a billionaire, you know."

"Yes, I know. I would expect you to find nothing less," he said.

"I'm not sure how I feel about your a.s.sessment of my character, Eduardo. You express no shock over Zack's financial status, or over the fact that we weren't in love."

"You're mercenary. I know it ... you know it. It's not shocking."

She was mercenary. If being mercenary meant she did what she had to to ensure her own success. Her own survival. She'd needed to be. To move up from the life she'd been born into. To overcome the devastating consequences of her youthful actions. And she'd never lost a wink of sleep over it. But for some reason, the fact that it was so obvious to Eduardo was a little bit unsettling.

"Is it mercenary to try and improve the quality of your life?" she asked.

"It depends on the route you take."

"And the resources available to you are a major factor in deciding which route to take," she said.

"I'm not judging you, Hannah, believe it or not."

She planted her hands on her hips. "No, you're just using me."

"As you said, you do what you must to improve the quality of your life." His expression was strange, tense. Dark.

She looked away. "I have to do something."

"What is that?"

She looked down at her left hand, at the ma.s.sive, sparkly engagement ring Zack had given her a few months earlier. She tugged it off her finger, a strange sensation moving through her like a strong wind. Sadness. Regret. Relief.

"I have to send this to Zack." She held it up and realized her hands were shaking. She couldn't keep it. Not for another second. Because mercenary she might be. But she wasn't a thief. She wouldn't take from Zack. Wouldn't do any more damage than she'd already done.

"I can have someone do that for you. Do you know where he is?"

"Thailand," she said, without missing a beat. "We were supposed to honeymoon there."

"And you think he went?" he asked, dark eyebrows raised.

She smiled. "Zack had business in Thailand, so yes, I think he went. No, I know he went. He's not the kind of man to let a little thing like an interrupted marriage keep him from accomplishing his goals."

Eduardo studied her, dark eyes intense. "Perhaps he was perfect for you."

"Yeah, well, I'm trying not to dwell on that." She held the ring out and Eduardo opened his hand. She dropped it into his palm. "I have the address of the place we were meant to stay at."

"Bien. I'll call a courier and have it rushed." He closed his hand around the ring, the glittering gem disappearing. All she could think of was that he held her future in his hand. The future that might have been. The one that was not eclipsed by Eduardo.

She looked up, their eyes clashing. Her throat tightened, halting her breath.

"Good," she said, barely able to force out the words. She turned to the desk and saw a pad and pen slotted into the wooden slats built into it for organization. It was where she'd kept them when she'd lived here. She bent and scribbled the address for the house she should be in now, with Zack.

Her fingers felt stiff and cold around the pen. She straightened and handed him the note. "There. That should do it."

"I'm surprised you don't want to keep the ring."

"Why? I didn't keep the one you gave me, either."

"We had a prior agreement. I get the feeling you didn't have an agreement like that with him."

"Separate beds, separate lives, unless a public appearance is needed? No. We were meant to be married for real." She swallowed hard. "And all things considered, I don't feel right keeping his ring. I was the one who wronged him."

"Careful, Hannah, I might start thinking you grew a conscience in our time apart."

"I've always had one," she said. "It's been inconvenient sometimes."

"Not too inconvenient."

"Oh, what would you know about a conscience, Eduardo?"

"Very little. Only that it occasionally takes the form of a cricket."

A reluctant laugh escaped her lips. "That sounds about right. So ... if you could mail my ring to him, that would be great."

"I'll call now." He turned and walked out of the room, leaving her alone.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her emotions a blank. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel. Why she suddenly felt more relieved than upset about leaving Zack behind. Marriage to him would have been good.

And yet, when she thought of the honeymoon, when she thought of sharing his bed ... she couldn't make the man in her vision Zack.

The man she saw was darker, more intense. The man she saw was Eduardo. His hands on her skin, his lips on her throat ...

She flopped backward and covered her face with her hands. "Stop it," she admonished herself. She rolled onto her side and grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly to her chest. She hadn't done that since high school. Comforting then, even when the world was crumbling around her, and just as comforting now.

Eduardo had always been handsome. He'd always appealed to her. That was nothing new. But she'd never once been tempted to act on any kind of attraction while they'd lived together. It hadn't been part of her plan. And she didn't deviate from her plans. Plans, control, being the one in charge of her life, that was everything. The most important thing.

Not Eduardo's handsome face and s.e.xy physique.

"Feeling all right?" Eduardo asked from the doorway.

She snapped back into a sitting position, pillow still locked tightly against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Fine."

Eduardo couldn't hold back the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. Hannah Weston, flopped on her bed like a teenage girl. A show of softness, a show of humanity, he hadn't expected from an ice queen like her. Like her reaction when he mentioned her fiance. Like when she'd given back the other man's ring.

It suited him to think of Hannah as being above human emotion. It always had. He needed her. He didn't know all the reasons why, but he did. And that meant it was easier to believe that she would simply go with the option that benefited her most and feel no regret over leaving the inferior choice behind.

But that wasn't how she was behaving. And it gave him a strange twinge in his chest that seemed completely foreign.

Hannah stood up from the bed and put the pillow gingerly back in its place. She cleared her throat and straightened. She looked ... soft for a moment. Different than he'd ever seen her before. She was beautiful, no question, more so now than she'd been as a too-thin college student.

She was still thin, but her angles had softened into curves, her cheekbones less sharp, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s small but round.

Instantly, an image of him pushing her on the bed, tugging her shirt up, filled his mind. He could take those b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his hands ... suck her nipple between his lips, his teeth ...

A rush of blood roared through his body, south of his belt. How long had it been since that had happened? Since he'd been aroused by an actual woman. In solitude, with a fantasy, he could certainly find release. But with a woman? One he had to somehow seduce and charm when he had no more seduction and charm left in him? That had been beyond him for quite some time.

"I can see that. You epitomize 'fine.'"

"I'm ready to find out what your game plan is, Vega," she said, crossing her arms beneath those small, gorgeous b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"My game plan?"

"Yes. I don't like not knowing the score. I want to know exactly what you have planned and why."

"Tomorrow, I plan to take you to the office, to let you look at things and get a feel for the state of the company."

"All right. What else?"

He felt the need to goad her. To shake her icy composure. As she was shaking his. He took a step forward, extended his hand and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. Her skin was like a rose petal, soft and delicate. "Well, tonight, my darling bride, we dine out." Her eyes darkened, blush-pink lips parting. She was not unaffected by him. His body celebrated the victory even as his mind reminded him that this had no place in their arrangement. "I intend to show all of Barcelona that Senora Vega has returned to her husband."

CHAPTER THREE.

GLAMOROUS events and upscale restaurants had become typical in Hannah's world over the past five years. But going with Eduardo wasn't.

The car ride to La Playa had been awkward. She'd dressed impeccably for the evening, as she always did, her blond hair twisted into a bun, her lips and dress a deep berry color, perfect for her complexion.

Eduardo was perfectly pressed as always in a dark suit he'd left unb.u.t.toned and a white shirt with an unfastened collar.

All of that was as it should be. The thing that bothered her was the tension between them. It wasn't just anger, and heaven knew she should feel a whole lot of anger, but there was something else. Something darker and infinitely more powerful.

Something that had changed. It was directly linked to the change in Eduardo, the dark, enticing intensity that lived in him now. The thing she couldn't define.

The thing that made her shake inside.

Eduardo maneuvered the car up the curb and killed the engine. She opened the door and was out and halfway around the car when she nearly ran into him. Her heart stalled, her breath rushing out of her.

"I would have opened your door for you," he said.

She inhaled sharply, trying to collect herself. "And I didn't need you to."

"You're my wife, querida, here to reconcile with me. Don't you think I would show you some chivalry?"

"Again with the chivalry. I thought you and I established that honor wasn't our strong point."

"But it will be as far as the press is concerned. Or, more to the point, our relationship needs to seem like a strength." He leaned forward and brushed his knuckles gently over her cheekbone, just as he'd done back in the penthouse.