8 Brand-New Romance Authors. Avril Tremayne
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to speak with Emma greater than her desire to hide from the storm. She could hardly wait to hear her sister’s squeal of delight when she told her they could set a date.
‘Georgie.’ Emma sounded different somehow as she answered the phone. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m still in Spain, and you can get set a date for your wedding.’ She took a breath, putting on an air of jubilation—one she was far from feeling. ‘Santos and I—we’re married.’
Emma hesitated, and a shiver of apprehension slipped down Georgina’s spine as the silence lengthened down the phone connection.
Finally Emma spoke, sounding oddly far away. ‘I know. It’s all over town.’
At least her plan had worked, Georgina consoled herself. All she could hope for now was that Emma would believe that she and Santos had married because of the attraction they had for one another, after the whirlwind romance that had started at the party.
‘Georgie...’
Emma’s voice sounded nervous, and as the silence lengthened still further Georgina heard the first rumble of thunder. ‘Georgie, Carlo and I...we got married a few days ago.’
Georgina almost dropped the phone with shock. Her quiet, biddable sister had gone against everyone and married in secret, without even telling her. Hurt lanced through her as she thought of the day she’d always imagined for Emma—a day when she would be there to see her married, not on a yacht off the coast of Spain.
A flash of lightning made Georgina’s heart-rate accelerate wildly, but she tried to keep it under control. She didn’t want Emma to worry—didn’t want her to know of the ramifications her actions.
‘Georgie, are you still there?’
She could hear the unease in her sister’s voice and tried to focus her mind. How could Emma have betrayed her?
‘I have to go, Emma, there’s a storm coming. I’ll call you later.’
She cut the connection as the full implications of what this meant hit home.
And Santos. What would he think?
A low rumble of thunder followed by the first heavy drops of rain made her retreat to the safety of the villa. Her fear of the storm outweighed the fact that Santos was himself like a brewing storm—one she didn’t want to be around when it broke. From the doorway she watched the raindrops falling into the pool, disturbing its smooth surface. Deep down she knew she had more than a storm to fear.
The temperature dropped and a cool wind picked up. The white curtains billowed into the room where she stood, watching the increasingly heavy rain. Lightning lit up the darkening sky and she shuddered in a breath, as tense as the air around her. The clap of thunder was so loud she had to suppress a scream as she beat a hasty retreat further into the villa, feeling as shaken by Emma’s revelation as by the storm itself. The trembling of her hands was very real.
‘Scared of the storm?’ Santos’s voice was clipped and hard. ‘Or is this another of your wonderful acting roles?’
She frowned, blinking in confusion as he came to stand before her. His dark eyes were full of fury and as he folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her she saw visible tension in his neck and shoulders.
‘A little,’ she lied, and rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she were cold, refusing to rise to the bait of his last comment.
His gaze darted to the movement, watching through narrowed eyes, then moved back to her face. She fought the way her body responded to him, despite her apprehension about telling him what she’d just found out. She took a deep breath and tried to focus herself, curb her fear of the storm and deny the need to be held by him, to feel safe in his arms.
He marched past her and closed the doors to the terrace. The curtains ceased their wild dance but the tension of the storm remained, wrapping itself around them, drawing them towards each other. His dark gaze met hers and defiantly she lifted her chin, straightened her back, determined not to show him her fear.
There were two storms raging, she realised with a sinking feeling. Two storms she was going to have to ride out, no matter what. There wasn’t any escape from either now.
‘Your plan worked,’ he said as he stood with his back to the doors and the lashing rain.
The dark clouds behind him only intensified the image of anger he projected.
‘My plan was for Emma to think we were lovers so she wouldn’t question our marriage.’ Her voice didn’t sound as firm as she wanted, and anxiety made her stomach flutter. She had to regain her composure.
‘And why was that so important, Georgina?’
The use of her full name hurt, somehow, and the light sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.
‘You openly admit to marrying for financial security once already—why would she question our marriage?’
She watched his jaw tighten as he took in a deep breath, as if he was holding back what he really wanted to say. ‘She never knew I married Richard so that I could fund her education and give her a secure home. My first marriage isn’t part of this, Santos.’
Thunder cracked overhead, the villa seeming to shake with the force of it. Georgina glanced anxiously around the room, thankful that she was no longer out at sea.
‘It damn well is when your reputation precedes you.’ His voice was hard and echoed the aggression of the storm. The expression on his face was as dark and brooding as the sky.
‘My reputation?’ Lightning lit the room and her heart thudded almost as loudly as the thunder. ‘If by that you mean that I married Richard, an older and unwell man, because he offered me lifelong security in return for a few years of companionship, then, yes, my reputation does precede me.’
She glared at him, hardly able to believe they were discussing her first marriage when it was the marriage of his brother to her sister that should take precedence. That was the one that affected them both, whether they liked it or not.
She had to tell him, but anxiously kept the conversation on its current course. As the next crack of thunder threatened to shake the foundations of the villa she stood her ground, glaring at Santos.
‘A companionship so loving that you were dating other men just weeks after his funeral.’ He practically snarled the words at her, so intense was his anger.
‘It was what he wanted,’ she said, softly but firmly, remembering how insistent Richard had been that she should move on in life, find herself a man she could love.
She’d dated a few men just to do as Richard had wanted, to honour the memory of the man who’d given her a future. But she hadn’t enjoyed their company and very quickly gossip had started.
After the initial shock of being at the centre of everyone’s speculation she’d soon realised it provided a wall to hide behind.
‘I found out very quickly that seeing a man once or twice only was the best way.’ Let him think the worst of her. She had other worries right now. Besides, if he believed that of her it would keep him at arm’s length—something she had to do now no matter what. She couldn’t dwell on the closeness they’d shared.
Santos’s brow furrowed. ‘Best way for what?’ The words snapped from him.
‘For doing what you do,’ she flung at him as another rumble of thunder, just as intense, reverberated around the room. ‘For keeping the world at bay, keeping the gossips with something to get their teeth into, because ultimately it meant I could be on my own. I never wanted to be married the first time and I certainly don’t want to be married now.’
She flopped down onto the sofa, unable to fight any longer. Remaining indifferent to what was being said about her and the shock of what Emma had done was finally too much.
How could her sister have said nothing? How could she have sneaked