The Spaniard's Stolen Bride

Diego.

She had never—not in all her life before setting eyes on that man—indulged in childish infatuations. Having always had a sense that her father was going to arrange her marriage, she had known there was no point.

She wasn’t a fairy-tale princess. Prince Charming wasn’t going to come for her.

Prince Acceptable was going to be selected for her.

And so there had never been a crush. Never been a fantasy.

Until him.

She wondered if it could be called a crush or a fantasy. This dark, terrible feeling that made her want to do something reckless and awful. Something the Liliana she’d been raised to be would never consider.

Diego was the worst possible man for her to have developed a connection to. The worst possible man to be fixated on now.

Her father wanted her to do this and she’d poured all of her energy, all of her life, all of herself, into doing what he asked.

Liliana felt compelled to be a counterpoint to death. And that was a very heavy weight to carry. But she was alive. Her mother was dead.

Could she complain about anything being too heavy when she lived?

But you’ll live your whole life without ever touching him...

“It doesn’t matter!”

She hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it burst from her mouth and she looked around, hoping her voice didn’t draw attention to her.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

She’d made her choices. She could have been a rebellious daughter. She could have pushed back against her father’s edicts. His demands she learn etiquette and deportment instead of going on to university. His pronouncement that she’d play hostess when he had businessmen over.

His long-standing proclamation he would choose her husband.

But when she thought of rebelling against him...

It made her cold all over.

Her father was her only family. The only person in the world who loved her.

How could she push back against that? How could she test that?

Maybe someday Matías would love her.

The idea didn’t fill her with any sense of joy.

She stood from the bed and paced across the large bedroom. The rancho was opulent, but she had spent her life surrounded by opulence. It was nothing new, and suddenly, she despised her own jadedness on that score.

So many people would be grateful to marry Matías. To be made his princess, for all intents and purposes. To be the lady of the rancho, and have all these beautiful lands, this incredible hacienda and the horses that came with it.

And she could find nothing, no sense of excitement, no sense of triumph inside of her.

Nothing at all.

She stood at the window, brushing the curtains to the side and looking out at the well-manicured lawn. The pale moonlight spilled over the rippling grass, the slight breeze making it look like water rather than earth. Making her feel as though she could open the window and dive straight down into the depths and swim far, far away from all of this.

Suddenly, she saw movement. Not the shift of a blade of grass, but a shadow, moving across the grounds. She didn’t know what possessed her, only that she unlatched the window, opening it and the screen along with it, leaning out slightly so that she might get a better look at whatever was below.

And then, the dark shadow was closer to the house, and she could see for sure what it was.

A man.

There was a man out on the grass, moving around. She should call someone. For in all likelihood someone clearly sneaking through the property was not staff, and was not supposed to be here at all.

Perhaps he was one-half of a pair of ill-fated lovers. In which case, she didn’t want to call anyone.

Her own love life was, if not ill-fated, then severely stunted, and she was hardly going to damage anyone else’s.

But the figure kept coming closer to the house, and when he began to scale the side of the building, using the ornate molding and the window ledges as footholds, she stood frozen, watching him.

She should scream. She should call out for help. But she didn’t. She simply stood. With the window open, as if she were inviting him in. He kept moving closer, and closer. And then he looked up, and she saw dark, glittering eyes just barely visible in the moonlight.

Still. She didn’t move. Still, she stood without making a sound.

It wasn’t until he climbed to her window, and wrapped his arm around her waist, one hand holding tightly to the molding up above, his eyes clashing with hers, that she screamed.

“Now we must hurry,” he said, that voice low and far too familiar. “Because you have caused a scene.”

She found herself being jerked from the window, suspended above the ground, terror roaring through her veins.

She clung to the man, because she had no choice. She would fall to her... Well, perhaps not her death, but her certain maiming if she did not cling to those strong, broad shoulders, her breasts pressed against the chest so solid it seemed to be made of stone rather than flesh.

But he was hot. Hot in a way that only flesh and blood could be.

He had spoken.

And she knew.

Knew exactly who held her in his arms.

“I have a helicopter waiting,” he whispered. “Are you holding on to me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good,” he responded.

He let go of her and she wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, as he made startling time scaling down the side of the house. She gave a short prayer of thanks when her feet connected with the grass, but it was short-lived as she found herself being picked up and hauled away quickly.

She heard voices, shouting, and she looked over his shoulder to see dark figures standing in her bedroom window. Clearly responding to the scream.

“We will escape before he manages to mobilize. Believe me. I was hardly going to plan a kidnapping that I could not execute. I’m far too vain for such a thing.”

“For kidnapping?”

“For failed kidnappings. I would only ever engage in a successful one.” He bustled her into a car waiting at the edge of the lawn and drove them to the edge of the woods, taking her out of the car again, hauling her around like she was a sack of nightgown-wearing potatoes.

“Why exactly are you kidnapping me?” she asked, as she hung limp over his shoulder.

It was strange, she imagined, that she wasn’t fighting him. That she wasn’t screaming or pitching a massive fit, trying to escape his hold.

But she didn’t want to. Not even a little bit. Not in the slightest. She found that she wanted to...see where he was going. Because hadn’t it been Diego she had just been thinking of?

And she had to ask herself why she had stood there with the window open if she truly didn’t want to be taken.

And so she let him carry her into the woods, across to a clearing, where there was indeed a helicopter awaiting them. He hauled her up inside easily, depositing her in the seat and buckling her before taking his position at the controls.

“You pilot...helicopters?”

“We don’t have time to talk.”

He fired up the rotors, and they began to gain speed. Just as she saw lights in the distance, they lifted off from the ground, above the trees, and away.

She couldn’t hear, not over the sound of the engine and the propellers, but then he put a headset on, and placed one on her head as well. She adjusted it.

“Can you hear me?”

His voice came over the speakers and into her ears. “Yes,” she responded.

“Excellent.”

“Did you want to make conversation now?” It seemed strange, all things considered.

“I thought we might pick up where we left off when last we spoke,” he said.

“Did you? Well, it might be a slightly different conversation, Diego, as when last we spoke we were in my father’s library. And today we are in a helicopter, with you having kidnapped me from my fiancé’s home.”

“You will not marry him.”

Her heart kicked into gear, slamming into her breastbone. “I won’t?”

“No,” he said, his voice dark and decisive.

“He’s going to come for me.”

“I’m not going anywhere that he will be able to trace us. My brother and I are not close. Believe me when I tell you he has no idea of all the residences I own. Nor the aliases they are listed under.”

“Aliases...”

“What did you think of me, tesoro? That I was simply misunderstood? And that was why I was the black sheep of the Navarro family? No. I am not misunderstood. Not in the least. In point of fact, I am rather well understood. I’m not a good man.”

“That is not...overly comforting, considering I’m now hurtling through the air with you.”

“It was not intended to be a comfort. I’m simply making sure that you are aware of the position you find yourself in.”

“What position is that?”

“You’re going to marry me now, Liliana.”

Something hot and reckless jolted through her, a lot like fear, but with a hard edge to it that thrilled her as much as it repelled her.

“You can’t just... How can you possibly think that I would agree to that?”

“Don’t be silly, tesoro. I have all the ammunition I could possibly want. Did you honestly think I would go to all this trouble without hedging my bets? I was not counting on my charm to sway you.”

If only he knew. Before this moment, he could have climbed through the window and seduced her, likely so easily it would be humiliating.

She had never kissed a man. Not truly. The chaste exchanges she’d had with Matías were nothing like a real kiss, and the idea of Diego’s lips kept her awake at night.

Indeed, they had been keeping her awake this very night. And he had no idea. Of course not.

But now... Now she was seeing him in a slightly different light.

She looked at him, his face cast in sharp relief by the glow of the control panel in front of him. High, hard-cut cheekbones, a cruel, sculpted mouth, nose straight like a blade.

Oh, dear heaven, she was no less attracted to him now than she had been before. There was perhaps something wrong with her. And she wasn’t entirely certain there was anything that could be done about it. She wasn’t entirely certain there was anything she would want to do about it. Because she had never felt anything like this. Nothing quite so dangerous, nothing quite so exhilarating. Her life had been lived entirely to please her father. Entirely to live up to the memory of her mother.

Lusting for dark and dangerous men fit nowhere in that. But Diego had swept into her father’s house like an undeniable force. Indeed, he had swept into her bedroom tonight like one as well. And at the moment there was nothing she could do.

She was being whisked away, after all. She could hardly leap from the helicopter.

And the fact that he made her stomach sink, made it swoop like a butterfly whose wings had been torn, one that was falling out of the sky, toward its inevitable demise... Well, right now there was nothing she could do about that.

“If you truly wanted to marry me, you could have spoken to my father,” she said, her voice small.

“You don’t understand,” Diego said. “I must prevent my brother from marrying you.” He turned to face her for a moment, his lip curled into a sneer. “If he marries you, then he gains the inheritance of the ranch. I want you, and I want the rancho. My marriage ensures that I get it. And that is why you must marry me. The fact that I have fantasies of tearing that virginal nightgown from your body is only a bonus.”

His words rolled over her like a poison. He didn’t want her, not really. He didn’t want to marry her because he had any finer feelings for her. He wanted to marry her because of an inheritance.

Matías wanted to use her as well, wanted to use her to forge an alliance with her father, and apparently, to get an inheritance. But that didn’t bother her. Because when it came to Matías, she had only been following her father’s orders.

Her feelings for Diego had nothing to do with orders.

“If my brother has had you, that makes no difference to me. In fact, I shall take a great joy in wiping your memory of him from your mind.”

She realized what he meant, though it took a moment, and shock rolled over her.

She had not been with Matías. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. She didn’t know why, but for the moment it felt like a small bit of power.

He said that he didn’t care, but the fact he had mentioned it made her think that perhaps he did.

And so she said nothing. She simply sat with her hands folded, staring straight ahead into the darkness as she was taken further and further away from any kind of certainty and deeper into this madness of Diego’s making.

CHAPTER THREE

DIEGO WATCHED HIS captive closely as they walked from the helicopter toward his home. If she was expecting that there would be anyone here who might become sympathetic to her plight and offer her assistance, she would be sadly mistaken. He had taken pains to clear his house of all the usual staff, leaving it stocked with everything they would need to get through the next period of time without drawing attention to them.

He paused at the beginning of the walkway that led up to the old manor that looked near consumed by ivy where it was pressed deep into a rocky hillside.

He extended his gloved hand, and she took it, and he could feel her delicate fingers, could feel the heat of her body through the black leather.

He felt a bit like Hades, leading Persephone down into the underworld.

Some men might be consumed with guilt at that easy comparison. The idea that they might be the devil himself.

Diego suffered from no such guilt.

Diego did not suffer from a conscience at all.

Liliana was silent, and she looked like a very small ghost shrouded in her white nightgown, her pale hair blowing in the breeze.

“Where are we?”

“On a private island,” he said. “Near enough to Spain, but far enough as well. This is mine. And no, my brother does not know.”

“It’s... It looks rather English.”

“The English like Spain,” he said. “At least, they like to get drunk in Spain.”

“Is that what you like about Spain?”

“I am Spanish, querida.”

“Of course,” she said, her cheeks coloring slightly.

How funny that she could be embarrassed over making a faux pas with him. Her kidnapper. How charming that she would care at all.

“I take that as a compliment on the proficiency of my English,” he said. His lips curved into a smile. “But not as much of a compliment on my character.”

“Were you looking for compliments on your character, Diego? Because if so, you might have stopped short of the kidnapping.”

He chuckled. “I was not. It is delightfully freeing when you don’t care about your own morality. If you just sink into turpitude, I find that it has a very warm embrace. And there are a host of fabulous side effects. A lack of caring what anyone thinks. Least of all your own conscience.”

“Some of us don’t live exclusively for ourselves,” she said softly.

“Your father?” He wondered if the poor creature imagined her father to be a good man. Why wouldn’t she? She was... She was sweet. And in this world that was a rare and precious thing. A thing he was going to destroy. He should care about that. He found he didn’t. “What a fantastic paragon for you to live for.”

He began to walk more quickly, drawing her into the entryway of the house, and pressing his thumb against the door to unlock it. “My thumbprint only, tesoro,” he said.

“Does that include getting out as well?”

He laughed. “You know it does. Again, I would not conduct a kidnapping without being thorough.”

“I suppose I should appreciate that as a commentary on my fortitude and ingenuity.”

“I feel that you should be flattered by this entire caper.”

“Should I?”

“Indeed. I’ve gone to quite a lot of trouble to procure you.”

“More due to the relationship with your brother than anything to do with you.”

“Yes. But if I did not find you enticing in your own right then I would simply have held on to you until the date on my grandfather’s great edict expired.”

“Lucky me.”

“Many women would say that you were lucky. Being fought over by the Navarro brothers as you are.”

“And yet, I feel more like a wretched hen between the jaws of two posturing dogs.”

“Or, a precious gem being traded amongst thieves. Pick your metaphor, tesoro. I would pick the more flattering of the two.”

“I don’t have the motivation. Flattered or not, I remain kidnapped.”

“Perhaps you will in time.” He brought her inside, closing the door behind them. The lock clicked with a delicious, satisfying finality.

“What are you going to do with me?” For the first time, she looked afraid. No, more than afraid—terrified. And two things dawned on him in that moment. That she had not looked truly frightened this entire time, which was an oddity. She seemed to have accepted her kidnapping with a remarkable aplomb. She had not fought him. In fact, she had clung to him, long after her safety had depended on it.

She had opened the window for him.

Something about that kicked masculine triumph through his veins. She did not hate him. That much was clear.

Or perhaps, she did not care for his brother. It didn’t matter to him which it was. Not in the least. The fact that it was either was good enough.

The second was that she looked out of her mind with fear at the moment, and he did not care for that. Another revelation. He could not recall much caring about the feelings of another. Not ever.

Or at least, not in quite some time.

“I already told you,” he said. “I intend to marry you.”

“Are we alone here?” She backed up against the wall, her pulse thundering at the base of her throat.

Diego frowned and walked toward her, marveling as she shrank away from him, turning herself near inside out to avoid him. He reached out, pressed his thumb against that delicate hollow there. It felt like a frightened bird against his touch, fluttering, trying to escape.

“What do you think I will do to you?”

“You have already kidnapped me. I fear that any number of indignities can’t be too far away.”

He dropped his hand quickly. “I have never once forced myself on a woman. I would hardly start with you.”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Because you want me.”

“I want you? You kidnapped me. Do you honestly think that I’m panting after you now that you’ve stolen me out of my bedroom window?”

He lifted a brow and shrugged one shoulder. “A bedroom window you opened for me. That makes your protests slightly weak.”

“I didn’t know it was you.”

“Did you not?”

Her shoulders went rigid. “I did not.”

“It is moot. I saw the way you looked at me at your father’s house. You wanted me then. You want me now. I would take absolutely no pleasure in forcing you. I would much rather you had to lower yourself to beg for what you want. Taking it from you would make it far too easy on you.”

Her lip curled and she raised her hand, pulling it back as if she meant to strike him. He didn’t stop her. He merely stood, ready for her strike. And she of course didn’t land the blow.

It did not surprise him. Not in the least.

“A word of advice, tesoro,” he said. “If you’re going to make threats you had best be prepared to follow through. I am not a man who makes idle threats, and therefore, you do not want to be the kind of woman who makes them. Not in my presence. If you’re going to hit me, you best do it hard. If you’re going to tempt my retribution, then it had better be worth it.”

She said nothing. She simply stood there, shaking like an indignant leaf, her rage and fear barely suppressed. “Would you like to go to your room?”

“I’ll have my own room?”

He sighed heavily, feigning exasperation. “Of course you will have your own room. I already made it clear that I do not intend to force myself on you.”

“You just intend to force marriage on me.”

“Naturally.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world.

“You make no sense.”

“I’m a villain. I don’t have to make sense.”

He turned away from her and they began to walk up the long staircase and down a winding corridor, leading her to the chamber he had selected expressly for her.

Truly, the entire house had been chosen for her. The entire island.

There was something classic about it. Classic, and yet wild. He had appreciated it from the moment he’d set eyes on it last week. From the moment he had decided on his course of action.

The chamber that he had selected for her, had had furnished and decorated and filled with beautiful clothes, had been chosen specifically with her in mind. He had imagined how she might react to it. Had imagined the delight she might take in the way the soft mattress molded itself around her body, in the way the soft fabrics felt against her skin.

Instead, when she saw the room, her expression was blank.

“Is it not to your liking?”

“As jail cells go, I imagine it’s quite a beautiful one.”

“There is a library,” he bit out. “Just through that door.”

“Do you think this is a movie? And that you can buy away my ire with books?”

“You told me you liked books,” he said.

“Books and freedom. Perhaps I should have added that last part.”

“Sadly, in this instance, you may have one, but not the other.”

He began to walk away, his heart thundering hard, rage he did not quite understand beginning to spike in his system.

“How do you expect that you’ll force me to marry you?” she asked. “I can’t do anything about the fact that you have me in this house, but you cannot make me say vows.”

He paused, bone-deep satisfaction rolling through him. “I already told you, tesoro. I have thought of absolutely everything.”

“What have you thought of?”

“You told me that you live for other people. For your father. Well, I know things about Michael Hart that would destroy your girlish fantasies of the man you call father. I can ruin him, Liliana. His reputation, his fortune. I can reduce it all to dust.”

“How? My father is a good man.”

“Your father is a criminal, who has made the same mistake a great many idiotic criminals make. He has built his power upon legitimacy. For my part? I am a criminal who would lose nothing if the world were to find out.”

“You could be arrested for kidnapping me.”

“Could I? Do you suppose I am not prepared to bribe officials in Spain and in the United States to make sure that is not so? You mistake me for a man with limits.”

“The man that I knew back at my father’s home... He was not a monster.”

“Yes,” Diego said, advancing toward her. “He was. The monster is always there, Liliana, and make no mistake.” He reached out, grabbing hold of her hand and forcing it down onto his chest, over his heart. “Understand this. No matter how civil I may seem, the monster is always there. When I’m smiling at you, the monster is there. Right there,” he said, pounding her hand against him now. “Do not ever forget it.”

Her eyes went wide, and for a moment he thought he might have succeeded in terrifying her. Then her face relaxed, a clear decision having taken place inside her.

“As seduction bids go,” she said, her voice wobbly, “this is not a good one.”

She was tough, was Liliana. Never as fragile as she appeared.

“At what point did you begin to believe this was a seduction? If I had wanted to seduce you, I would have done so back at your father’s home. I could have. We both know. The moment you told me you were to marry my brother I could have had you on the floor. I can sense how badly you want me. But it’s not enough. It’s not permanent enough for my purposes. And that’s why I didn’t. I wanted insurance. And I found it. Your father has been scamming those who invest in his company. And I have the proof. Not only that, there are rafts of harassment allegations from a great many female employees. All buried. Covered up by his money. But the only person who possesses the power to pay more than he does is me. I have my finger poised on the kill button, Liliana, and he would be a fool to think I won’t press it.”