Chapter Fourteen
I’m married. Finally! Lourdes laughed softly in the backseat of Rubén’s limo at the registry office, exhausted and buzzing with excitement at the same time.
Enrique followed her inside and shut the door behind him while Rascón hopped in the driver’s seat and raised the dark glass partition to give her privacy with her new husband.
Husband, wow. That had never sounded so good, even in her head.
After several minutes, the limo pulled out of the parking lot in a long procession of armored SUVs stuffed with bodyguards and the wedding party.
Still smiling, she stroked the length of her satin wedding gown and patted the curls she’d artfully arranged atop her head.
“Happy?”
Enrique lounged beside her with one leg bent and the other stretched out in the classic pose of a self-satisfied male. His white pleated shirt popped against his black tux and bow tie, the well-cut ensemble emphasizing his lean, athletic build and doubling the saliva in her mouth.
“Happy? I’m thrilled, ecstatic, beyond amazed, and—” she cut off, a sharp, sudden pain skewering her.
“And what?” He grasped her arm, a frown pulling at his lips.
“My parents. I didn’t expect Papá to come, but Mamá, I thought she would fly up.
Hoped she would, rather.” Lourdes shrugged and glanced away.
Between her guilt over the shooting at La Paradoja and her hurt over her parents’ refusal to attend her wedding, she was half surprised she’d even made it out of bed.
“Edita will regret missing out, I’m sure. Besides, the wedding was on short notice. You should call her.”
Short notice, right. That could’ve been the issue, however unlikely. “I’ll call tonight.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
When she’d gone through her boxes and luggage that morning, she found her cell phone and wedding dress. Thank goodness Papá had redirected his men to her new home, or she probably would’ve lost her belongings to Diego’s mindless revenge.
Enrique sighed, hesitating. “I know why your father initially rejected my offer of marriage.”
She shot upright and twisted her hands together. “Tell me.”
“There was a termination clause in the contract. If one party ended the arrangement without the consent of the other, the offending party had to pay out half a million dollars.”
“Dios mío.” Lourdes clasped her chest. “Papá must’ve been furious when he paid Diego all that money.”
“That’s not what happened.”
She frowned, then gasped. “You paid it?”
“I tried. I got the money ready and texted Zayas to meet me, but he never responded. Then he shot up La Paradoja.” Enrique straightened his sleek jacket. “Well, I guess one good thing came from the shooting. I don’t need to pay off a soon-to-be dead man.”
Her stomach cramped. “I’m so sorry. My father, refusing to pay—”
“You’re worth ten times that, Lourdes. We’re married now for better or worse.” He pursed his lips before his next words spilled free. “I should also say that I paid your father the same yesterday when he signed the contract. For reparation for my trespassing on his turf.”
“Not for taking me?”
“Both.”
She doubted that. Fresh anger and hurt burned through her.
Knowing her father, he was more offended by Enrique’s show of disrespect than he was worried about Lourdes’s safety.
And yet, Papá had been rewarded as if he deserved Enrique’s money.
What did she ever do to earn her new husband’s devotion?
The way he loved her—how much he loved her—almost scared her.
“It’s all over with now.” He kissed her knuckles and smiled at the two-carat diamond ring and wedding band set on her finger. The simple silver band matched the one on his. “Think no more of it.”
How right he was. Today was the start of a new day, a new future, the one she wanted. She’d signed all the right documents, stood before a judge, and exchanged vows with Enrique in the presence of their friends—it was quick, uneventful, and absolutely perfect.
“I keep thinking I’m dreaming.” She flicked her gaze out the passenger window toward the buildings that blurred past in a mass of gray. Then she grinned back at her husband. “But my dreams are rarely this good.”
Enrique ran his thumb over her bottom lip and gripped her chin. “I don’t know if I should ravage you now or later.”
Heat coiled low in her belly. Lourdes bit her lip. “Why not both?”
Instead of pouncing as she expected, he released her and leaned back in the seat.
“You seem distracted. What’s going on?” As he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, she flattened her hands on the beaded bodice of her gown to keep from touching him.
The tension in her shoulders doubled. “We’ve been married for less than an hour.
Are you really going to shut me out so soon? ”
Sighing, he met her gaze. “While I’m relieved Zayas didn’t attempt to sabotage the wedding, Rubén and I were prepared for him to do so.
Now, we have no idea when or where he’ll strike.
We have no idea where he is. I hate not having the upper hand.
If anything happened to you, Lourdes, my world would be over. ”
His admittance warmed her chest and eased her tight muscles. She squeezed his leg. “Everything will be all right in the end. We’ve come too far for things to fall apart now.”
Enrique shifted in the seat to face her. “The end is going to happen sooner rather than later. I also have to get back on my regular schedule. The paperwork and visitations, it’s time-consuming. Add on the hunt for Zayas, and I’m swamped.”
“Let me help.”
He arched his eyebrow as if she asked him to fly off a building. “That’s impossible.”
“Why? I can file paperwork or check numbers to make sure various amounts add up, or whatever you need assistance with.”
“Lourdes, what I need is to keep my work separate from our relationship. It’s for your safety. Remember?”
Oh, she remembered all right. “Must you always be in control?”
“Always.” He kissed the inside of her wrist. “My lieutenants have been doing a good job keeping things running, but I cannot rely on them for the long haul. I don’t want to anyway. I need this work. It’s who I am.”
“Just as my art is who I am.”
“Focus on that. The spare room in my apartment—our apartment,” he amended, “is now your studio. Do as you wish with it.” He trailed his fingers across her lower stomach. “When it’s time, we can remodel the gym and guestroom. The children will need a place to sleep.”
The air in her lungs stilled. She licked her dry lips, tasting a bit of lipstick, and summoned her voice. “There’s no guarantee we will ever have children.”
“Have faith, princess. If I have to screw you upside down, sideways, and hanging from the ceiling every night to make sure my swimmers reach their goal, I will gladly do so. I can already see you in my mind, glowing and smiling, round and perfect with my baby nestled inside you. You will make a wonderful mother, Lourdes.” He lightly flicked her diamond-studded earlobe.
“I will do my best to be a decent father.”
“I know you would.” If he ever became one, if she was ever brave enough to try again for a baby. So many what ifs. Her stomach twisted, trapping her painful truth. Lourdes rested her hand on his chest and summoned her feminine wiles—the power of distraction. “Upside down? How would that work?”
He barked out a laugh. “Oh, you are a minx. Upside down is the woman on top.” He hiked up her dress and drew her onto his lap so that she straddled him. “Ride me. Give me a baby right now.”
Despite the melancholy racing through her veins, she grinned and even forced out a sexy, girly giggle. Anything to keep him from suspecting the truth.
From regretting this marriage.
His lips crashed onto hers in savage need as he unfastened his trousers. She shoved his tuxedo jacket down his arms and loosened his tie. The gun holstered on his chest brushed her arm and froze her in place. Her heart skidded to a stop, then slammed against her rib cage.
Cool air prickled her inner thighs as he bunched the skirt of her dress higher up her waist. His fingers filled her, readying her, and then his thick, hard shaft slid between her labia and teased her clit so roughly that she whimpered for more.
His cock plunged into her core, magnificently brutal and commanding.
She snapped straight as air caught in her throat.
He filled her so completely, leaving no room to spare.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He gripped her waist and bucked gently against her. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Work me into it.” She gyrated and matched his slow, sensuous rhythm. A long, keening moan rushed from her lips.
“That’s it, princess. Roll your hips.”
She clutched his shoulders and flung her head back. A few curls escaped the jeweled pins in her hair and danced around her face.
His hot, hungry mouth found hers. The pressure in her center crashed in waves of warmth. A cry split her lips. She squeezed her thighs together, trying for the life of her to prolong the bliss. The ecstasy. The undeniable pleasure of perfection with Enrique buried inside her, where he belonged.
“Come for me, husband.” She licked a salty bead on his temple.
As he thrust deeper and soared into outer space, his throaty growl reverberated in her ears. She clutched his head to her chest and squeezed the strands of his stiff, brushed-back hair. A few of the gelled locks stuck up at odd angles. The rush of his liquid heat locked them together.
If miracles existed, they would now have a baby on the way.
A foolish hope. She wasn’t ready for a baby yet.
Wasn’t ready for the physical, emotional, and hormonal changes her body would endure.
To top it off, Diego was on the loose. Her relationship with Enrique was far too new and fragile.
And full of secrets—on both their parts.
Except none of that mattered in the sex-scented cabin of the limo.
There, they were the only people in existence.
The tinted windows and the sound of the muffled engine shielded them from the outside world.
Again, so foolish. With luck, Rascón was oblivious to her seduction, but even if he wasn’t, she wouldn’t stop.
Not until Enrique fell back to earth.
“Cristo.” He rested his head back on the cushion as his hands slacked on her waist. A drowsy smile curved his lips. “You should ride me more often.”
She palmed his smooth cheeks. “Anytime, my love. Anytime.”