Page 28 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

‘I know you well enough.’

But you don’t love me.

The pathetic thought echoed across her consciousness. But she stopped herself from voicing it—scared he would laugh at her, because she would sound so naïve and sentimental, compared with his pragmatism…

She dragged his hand away from her face, because she really couldn’t think when he was touching her with that possessive gleam in his eye. She took a breath, trying to calm her confusing reaction, and got a lungful of the woody scent which clung to him. The rush of awareness became even more disconcerting. How had she become addicted to that scent in a single night?

‘But I don’t understand why you would want to marryme,’ she managed, already hideously exposed.

‘As I told you, I am in need of a bride. I have business interests which have been unfavourably impacted by…’ He paused, frowned. Clearly, Santiago was not a man used to explaining himself. ‘I have always believed in marriage,’ he continued. ‘It is a steadying influence for any family. And my family has needed stability for a long time.’ It was a wholly unromantic statement, but also revealing.

A burst of sympathy made her ribs feel tight.

She already knew he had been responsible for his younger siblings for many years. And Ana had told her two days ago what a burden that had been for him—becoming the head of the household and a Duke when he was little more than a child himself. Was that why he was such a workaholic? So focused and intense and emotionally detached most of the time. Of course, it had to be.

But as much as she might sympathise with his desire to bring stability to his family, it didn’t really answer her question. Surely, there had to be so many more suitable candidates than her to be his wife.

‘But what if we never discover my identity?’ she asked.

‘This will not happen.’ The deep grooves on his brow lifted. ‘Señor Pérez is one of the best. But if it takes longer than expected, we will go through with the religious ceremony on the wedding date, and then arrange to legalise our union as soon as we have the necessary documentation.’

The wedding date?

‘You’ve already chosen adate?’ she asked, stunned all over again.

He nodded. ‘Three weeks from now. I do not wish to wait, Cerys. Once we are a couple before God, we can travel to Isla de la Luna, a resort I own in the Balearics, for a honeymoon. Our marriage will be excellent publicity for the launch. But quite apart from that, you fulfil all my requirements in a wife.’ He touched her cheek again, apparently unable to keep his hands off her. ‘And I wish for everyone to know that you are mine.’

‘Whatrequirements?’ she asked, exasperated now as well as confused and so wary her stomach felt as if it had tied itself into a knot. But what scared her most was the balloon of hope parked under her breastbone, which was expanding no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. And was already big enough to have her questioning what exactly she was objecting to.

Santiago wanted to marry her. A man who fascinated and excited her beyond measure. Who had so many qualities she adored too. His determination to protect the innocent, his dedication to his family, to his duty, and his unbreakable code of honour, not to mention his insane work ethic. Above all, though, he had always made her feel safe, even when she’d thought he disliked her… And last night, he had made her feel cherished, feel important in a way she knew she never had.

If she married him, she could live atCastillo de las Videsfor ever—a place she had come to adore. She would be Ana’s sister for real. And while she knew she would want to work—because she had her pride—would it really be so terrible to have a home, to share in a heritage, a legacy? Something she knew she had always yearned for too.

‘Cerys, I have wanted you since the moment I set eyes on you. There is something between us. Something that I cannot explain. A hunger which has turned me into a man ruled by his desires. A hunger which has only become more intense since last night. But I refuse to be a man like my father, who allowed his libido to consume and destroy everything he touched. I believed I was immune to such a weakness. But apparently, where you are concerned, I am not. I wish you to become my wife, so I do not risk destroying something I have sworn all my life to protect. As he did.’

His father?

She could hear the pain in his voice, and the anger. And see the conviction in his eyes. And for the first time since she had met him, she realised he had vulnerabilities too.

Suddenly she saw so clearly what she had not seen before.

Santiago was a passionate man who hid his passions behind a wall of duty and control. And somehow, without ever intending to, she had destroyed that control. And he was determined to get it back…

She pressed a hand to her chest, to control the spike in her heartrate.

Why was she so scared of saying yes? Who could say the marriage he wanted couldn’t work for both of them?

Yes, it would be nuts on so many levels. But what if therecouldbe a commitment? And how could she not believe in the intense physical connection he was talking about when she felt it too? What if their passion could lead to genuine intimacy, genuine affection—genuine caring and respect?

She suspected he would never be an easy man to live with, to love—but she couldn’t imagine a greater gift than the opportunity to try and build something with a man like him.

There were so many things about him, so many elements to his character, she respected. And frankly, what did she really have to lose? What if sheneverdiscovered who she was? Who she had been? And why her brain had blocked out her past. What if, subconsciously, she didn’twantto be that person any more? What better way to start a new life than to take this leap of faith he was offering and see where it took her? Where it took them both.

She understood, of course, he saw this marriage in practical terms—that it wasn’t an emotional commitment for him. But who said she had to play by his rules?

Of course, marriage was still an extreme solution, but then she suspected that Santiago—for all his outward calm and control—was a man of extreme passions, if last night was anything to go by.

The balloon in her chest threatened to cut off her air supply.

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