A Game of Vows. Maisey Yates
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that was everything. The most important thing.
Not Eduardo’s handsome face and sexy physique.
“Feeling all right?” Eduardo asked from the doorway.
She snapped back into a sitting position, pillow still locked tightly against her breasts. “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 fiancé. 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 breasts small but round.
Instantly, an image of him pushing her on the bed, tugging her shirt up, filled his mind. He could take those breasts 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 breasts.
“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 Señora 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 unbuttoned 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.
And just as it had done back at the penthouse, her blood pressure spiked, her heartbeat raging out of control.
She’d had a connection with Zack, and certainly physical attraction. They hadn’t slept together, but they’d kissed. Quite a bit. Enough to know that they had chemistry. Now the idea of what she’d shared with Zack being chemistry seemed like a joke.
It had been easy to kiss Zack and say good-night. To walk away. His lips on hers only made her lips burn.
A look from Eduardo made her burn. Everywhere.
She’d lived with him before, though, and nothing had happened between them. There was no reason to think she couldn’t keep a handle on it this time.
She turned her face away from him, the night air hitting her cheek, feeling especially cold with the loss of his skin against hers.
He cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, turning her face so that she had to look at him. “You can’t act like my touch offends you.”
“I’m not,” she said, holding her breath as she took a step closer to him, as she slid her hand down his arm and laced her fingers with his. “See?”
She was sure he could hear her heart pounding, was certain he knew just how he was affecting her. Except … he wasn’t gloating. He wasn’t poised to give her a witty comeback, or make fun of her.
“You seem so different,” she said, following him to where the valet was standing. He ignored her statement and gave his keys to the young man in the black vest, speaking to him in Spanish, his focus determinedly off Hannah, even while he held on to her hand.
He tightened his grip on her as they walked on the cobblestones, to the front of the restaurant. It was an old building, brick, the exterior showing the age and character of Barcelona. But inside, it had been transformed. Sleek, sophisticated and smelling nearly as strongly of money as it did of paella, it was exactly the kind of place she’d imagined Eduardo would like.
It was exactly the kind of place she liked.
A man dressed all in black was waiting at the front. His face lit with recognition when Eduardo walked in. “Señor Vega, a table for you and your guest?”
“Sí,” he said. “This is Señora Vega, my wife. She’s come back to Barcelona. I’m very … pleased to see her.” He turned to the side, brushing her hair off her face. Heat sparked, from there down through her body. She tried to keep smiling.
The man cocked his head to the side, clearly pleased to be let in on such exclusive news. “Bienvenido a Barcelona, señora. We’re glad to have you back.”
She could feel Eduardo’s gaze on her, feel his hold tighten on her waist. She forced her smile wider. “I’m very glad to be back.”
“Bien. Right this way.”
He led them to a table in the back of the room, white and glossy,