Chapter Fifteen
Agustin found himself in a wonderful mood. All was settled. He had called the countess and had a brief discussion with her about the change of plans.
He was nearly certain the countess was relieved he’d ended things himself.
It only made him more certain that he’d been right all those weeks ago.
Mara was the best choice for a wife and partner.
Whatever she was concerned about in regard to outside opinion, Agustin would take care of it. She was simply being overly cautious.
He was nearly certain of that.
The judge arrived, along with some staff who would now be able to help the Silvas. Because there was no more reason to keep anything secret. Mara would be his bride, Julia his child, and another on the way.
Once the I dos were said, he would fly his mother out to meet Julia and explain the situation.
Then he and Mara would determine a media plan.
He would introduce his family to the press—which would be a bit of a to do and would no doubt take some of the attention off Felipe’s death, as initially intended.
But the attention wouldn’t last forever. Neither he nor Mara were interesting enough—or attention-hungry enough—to continue to be any kind of story. And Agustin would quash any and every story that even so much as suggested his relationship with Mara was somehow questionable.
Yes, he was in a fine mood indeed. Though he would need to go fetch Mara soon if she did not appear on her own. He didn’t want to rush her if she was still feeling unwell, but the judge was waiting.
Perhaps he’d go see if Julia was done with her nap and then check in on his soon-to-be bride.
But before he’d even stood, Mara appeared in the doorway.
She was looking a little sturdier, though paler than he liked. Still, she’d clearly showered and dressed—like a woman ready for work rather than a wedding, but that was fine. She had not come to the island prepared to marry him.
She gripped a tablet in her hands as she hovered in the doorway.
She said nothing, so he went ahead and spoke. “The judge is here. Are you ready?”
“Not just yet.” Her words were clipped, and she moved forward in her usual no-nonsense manner. Her chin came up, like it often did when she had to give some kind of presentation. “I have taken some time to determine what I will require out of this marriage.”
He raised an eyebrow. Perhaps he should not give away his surprise, but this was the Ms. Valdez—best assistant he’d ever had—that he had not seen in a few weeks. Calm, detached, certain. He found he didn’t care for it. At all. “And what is that?” he asked with some wariness.
“Some assurances. For both me and the children.” She put the tablet on his desk, then took a few steps back.
He noted that she was keeping herself just out of reach. Which made him all the more tempted to reach out and touch. To remind her that she was even in this position because of the chemistry they shared when they were close.
But she was speaking in that assistant way of hers. “You’ll find a legal document, much like the one you had worked up for the countess, available for your perusal and signature.”
He frowned a little and found himself not wanting to look at the screen. “The marriage I was to have with the countess was in name only.”
“Yes,” she agreed, eyes flashing as they met his. “And so shall ours be.”
Frustration twisted underneath his skin, but he kept his tone bland. “Come, Mara, you don’t actually believe that. We haven’t even been married, and there is far more between us than business.” He’d never felt anything remotely as incendiary with the countess as he had with Mara.
“For two years everything between us was only business.”
He could not argue that point, not well anyway. There had been…moments of connection, but nothing physical. Nothing like they had dealt with here. In their usual corporate setting, there had been clearer lines.
The castle and the baby had blurred those lines, but that did not mean what was between them was not…something. Even going back before arriving at the castle.
“Tell me, Mara. What is it that you are so afraid of? We have worked together for years, and you have not found me objectionable. We have chemistry and compatibility. Why have I suddenly become the enemy to you?”
Her expression softened, changed, then shuttered. But there was something there, something to this strange change in her, this reticence to follow the reasonable plan. Underneath her composure lay a wound of some kind. Perhaps some trauma?
She had mentioned not having a father for half her childhood. Was this something about parenthood? About what she might have endured in her childhood?
She did not answer his question, which meant frustration warred with his desire to understand where she was coming from.
Still, he tried to keep his tone even. “Do you believe this child—either of these children—would have a better life with unwed parents and the media scrutiny that would bring?”
“No, that is why I’m even considering this ridiculous union. Why I want certain safeguards for all of us. This is to be a partnership, and we need to approach it as such, with no emotional component confusing things.”
Emotional component. Perhaps he should be glad she was being so reasonable, but he found himself nothing short of frustrated beyond belief. “But you continue to treat me like your opposition.”
Her expression did not so much as flicker. He could not seem to get through whatever wall she’d built up. “Until we come to a sensible agreement in writing, you are my opposition. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?”
He worked hard not to grind his teeth together. “That is business.”
“And so is this,” she insisted, a bit petulantly in his opinion.
“It is more.”
“No. Not from here on out. You sought out a marriage in name only with the countess. Perhaps the bride has changed, but the parameters have not.” Her words were practiced, smooth and determined, but he saw something closer to panic in her eyes than certainty.
“I’ve made some new additions and slight clarifications to what will be our agreement, with the help of your legal department,” she continued.
“They are ready to sign off on it, but unless you’d like me to summarize it for you at a later date, I suggest you read over it now.
I will not be seeing any judge until you sign. ”
Agustin regarded her. And decided to take his own advice, that she’d also taken. She was the opposition. A person with weaknesses to exploit in order to make the most advantageous end result for him.
So, he smiled at her and waved her to a chair over by the window. “Have a seat, Ms. Valdez. I will look it over immediately.”
Mara didn’t want to sit, but that was petulant.
So she stiffly moved over to her chair. Since she was here—and the document was pages long—she pulled out her phone and addressed some of the work she had only barely been keeping up with.
Scheduling, correspondence, travel arrangements.
She even started to toy with a media plan for after they married.
Not that it was a foregone conclusion. Surely he would balk at the terms she’d added that penalized him for any breach of contract, any abandonment of her or their children. Surely he would at least argue points. He’d want to negotiate the upper hand. She knew him. She knew this.
And when they came to a point neither were willing to compromise on, this ridiculous plan would go up and smoke and…
And…
Well, the problem was there were no positive alternatives.
It was why she was here in the first place.
She could run away and disappear and raise her child without anyone knowing the baby was Agustin’s, but he would not allow this.
He would track her down. And even if he didn’t, she would need to find a position as a pregnant soon-to-be single mother, which was not optimal for anyone.
And it left Julia in the lurch. Perhaps Agustin would be able to go back to the plan with the countess, but…
But it would mean Mara would never see Julia again, and she did not know how to stand under the weight of that.
If he would work with her, they could find some alternate plan, Mara was sure. But she knew him too well and was coming to the conclusion that no matter what transpired with this contract, she would find herself married to him by the end of the day.
So she was accepting it and altering the agreement to suit her, not him.
She sat in the chair, silence pressing in on her. She wanted to fidget. She wanted to run away—but she couldn’t run without wanting to throw up. She wanted to scream at him, but it would be pointless, and she would want to throw up.
She could have gone and checked on Julia, but the child was napping, and the new nanny Agustin had brought in was sweet, cheerful and incredibly well vetted with plenty of experience.
For all her dark thoughts about Agustin at the moment, Mara knew he would not have brought in someone who wasn’t the absolute perfect help to take care of Julia.
Why did everything suddenly feel a little too good to be true? The kind of good she hadn’t worked for at all. How could she possibly trust anything that was going on?
You can’t, that’s why you’re having him sign a legal agreement.
“What was that?” Agustin asked, without even looking up from the tablet.
Mara blinked. Had she muttered out loud? Well, she’d need to get a hold of that. Of a lot of things. “Nothing.”
He made a considering sound, then after a few more moments, stood and walked over to her. He handed her the tablet.
For a moment, Mara could only look at his outstretched hand. She didn’t want to take it. She didn’t want what was next. But there was no pausing time, no going back in it. She took the tablet, looked at the screen.
There, where the signature line was, he had signed it in his strong, slashing way. No amendments. No arguments.
“Do you need to take care of anything else before we call the judge in?” he asked pleasantly.
She did not know why she felt rather condescended to when he was being agreeable and had signed the document. When he was doing exactly what she’d determined she wanted from him. He was giving her the upper hand—absolutely unheard of when it came to Agustin Delgado.
She must be missing something. She should have asked for something more.
She wanted to come up with a million other things to take care of, but she could not. She wanted to toss the tablet at him and have a good cry, but she would not.
She was going to marry her boss. And have his baby. And raise Julia. At least there were some positives in that. She would hold on to those.
He’d agreed, so he was no longer her opposition. They were partners. They had to work together.
She took his proffered hand and let him pull her to her feet. He held her there, his big hand on hers, close enough to feel his warmth, smell his expensive cologne. Close enough that even over the nausea she felt a stirring in her body that she could not ever listen to again.
She withdrew her hand from his—it was the only way to be strong enough to meet his gaze. “I have one more assurance that I could not put in writing, but I would like your verbal promise before we go to the judge, as I know you are a man who believes in living up to his promises.”
Some of his pleasantness faded into wariness. Good.
When he said nothing, she continued. “The physical part of our relationship is over.”
He stared at her for a very long time. Long enough that her body began to hum under that steady, intent gaze. She could remember all too well what it felt like to have his hands on her. His mouth. His body. The way he moved inside and—
“I will agree to this, with one amendment,” he said, his voice soft and silky, like he knew exactly what she was thinking about.
“It is a simple yes or—”
But he did not let her finish. “Should you come to me,” he said, his voice dark and dangerous, “I certainly do not have to tell you no.”
Heat infused her cheeks—embarrassment or desire or both she could not begin to parse. But she knew one thing. “I will not come to you.”
His smile was sharp. Predatory. “We will see. Now, shall we go get married?”