8 Brand-New Romance Authors. Avril Tremayne
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you couldn’t. You don’t do love. You don’t know how it feels to love someone so much you’d do anything for them, only to find they’ve deceived you.’ The floodgates had opened and the words tumbled out as she looked up at him again, her eyes begging him to understand.
He let go of her arms and stepped back a pace, his tall, athletic body dominating her, as big a hurdle for her to overcome as the shock of seeing the letter.
‘Don’t do this to yourself, Georgina.’
‘What do you want me to do? Shut myself away from love just like you have?’
He stood, immovable and silent as she waited for him to say something. Finally he spoke. ‘You’re right. I don’t understand.’
She closed her eyes for a second against the pain of his admission, then opened them and looked at him, injecting as much firmness into her voice as possible. ‘There’s no reason for us to be together any more, Santos.’ She hesitated as she saw the firm set of his shoulders. ‘I’m going home.’
‘Leaving, you mean?’
She watched his jaw clench as he stood, all but blocking her way out of the room.
‘Yes, leaving.’ She walked past him into the living area, her arm brushing his as she did so. The shock of that contact made her take in a sharp breath.
* * *
Santos clenched his hands into tight fists and bit down hard. He wanted to tell her to stay, but he didn’t know how to—let alone why. Was it because not only was she the first woman who hadn’t succumbed to his charm immediately, but the first woman to walk out on him?
But she wasn’t the first woman to walk out on him. His mother had done the same. He’d stood and watched her leave, not understanding why. He’d felt helpless then too.
‘Georgina.’
Her name snapped from his lips and for a moment he wondered if he’d actually spoken, then he heard her footsteps stop. Ominous silence filled the apartment.
He took in a deep breath and left the kitchen. She stood by the front door. Last time she’d tried to walk out on him he’d gone with her, but this time he couldn’t. This time all he could do was watch her go. He couldn’t risk opening his heart to her.
She raised her brows at him in question. She wouldn’t even speak to him. Should he ask her to stay? Tell her he wanted to understand? That somewhere deep inside he was beginning to understand that elusive emotion love?
But still he couldn’t.
‘My solicitor will contact you with regard to the divorce.’
GEORGINA HELD THE LETTER in shaking hands. Santos hadn’t wasted any time. He must have instructed his solicitor to file for divorce the moment she’d left his apartment. But what had she expected? That he would miss her? Come after her and declare his undying love?
He’d admitted that he didn’t understand. They’d been almost his last words to her that morning.
Well, if he thought she’d hide away and meekly sign the papers then he had another thought coming. She would show him she could be as strong as he was. She would go down fighting. Fighting for the love she couldn’t deny herself but had to.
With that in mind she tapped in to the same fiery determination that had given her the courage to march into his office and suggest they marry in the first place.
She put on her charcoal suit, her high heels and applied make-up. Then she pulled out her rarely used briefcase, put the letter inside and left, slamming the front door behind her. The few persistent photographers waiting intently outside her flat almost fazed her—they’d been camping out since the details of their marriage had hit the headlines, desperate for a story—but she passed through them, refusing to answer their questions or make a comment, quickly hailing a taxi.
By the time the taxi pulled up outside the Ramirez International offices it had started to rain, but she refused to rush in, head down against the rain. With her head held high she walked determinedly in, hardly giving the rain a second thought. Alone inside the lift she had time to check her appearance. It was vital she looked as sleek and sophisticated as possible. He must never know how devastated she was by the last two weeks, how little sleep she’d had recently.
She smoothed her hands down her skirt, took a deep breath and walked proudly out of the lift as soon as the doors opened. His secretary looked up as she pushed open the heavy glass door, but Georgina wasn’t about to stop and ask permission to see her husband. He was going to listen to what she had say whether he liked it or not.
‘Excuse me, Miss...’ the shocked woman said as she made her way straight towards Santos’s office.
Georgina stopped and turned to face her. ‘It’s Mrs,’ she said firmly. ‘Mrs Ramirez. And I’m here to see my husband.’
With that she turned and walked down the wide corridor that led to his office. Nothing was going to stop her now.
She paused briefly outside the door, her hand poised above the handle. Last time she’d stood there full of nerves, hardly able to believe she was about to propose to a man she’d never met.
Not for one minute had she thought she would find him so devastatingly attractive. And if she’d known that from the very first moment their eyes met a sizzle of desire would weave a spell so strong about them she would have turned and run, regardless of her motives.
She’d never expected to fall in love with him so quickly and so completely.
It had taken the letter instigating their divorce this morning for her to realise what she had to do—that she couldn’t run any more. She’d stood by and watched two men she’d loved in very different ways from the way she loved Santos leave her. This time she was determined it would be different. This time she wouldn’t shrink from the pain. This time she’d face it head-on.
She took a deep breath, gathered all her nerve and opened the door.
He was sitting at his desk, looking cool and composed. Her heart lurched just at seeing him, but she couldn’t let that get the better of her now.
‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’
His words were as cool and clear as a mountain stream but she couldn’t falter now.
She put her briefcase on his desk, looked him in the eye and flicked it open. The dark depths of his eyes glittered as he watched every slow, purposeful movement. Taking out the letter, she placed it on the desk and then closed her briefcase.
‘Don’t play games, Santos. You know why I’m here. To put an end to our marriage.’
But not until he knew how she felt—knew she loved him. But telling someone who hated even to hear the word, let alone acknowledge the emotion, wasn’t going to be easy.
He stood up, his height as intimidating as the breadth of his shoulders, but she held his gaze, trying hard to ignore the lurching of her heart.
* * *
‘A marriage you instigated, Georgina. Here, in this very room.’
Santos moved from behind his desk and came closer to her, even now unable to resist the challenge her eyes fired at him. The first time she’d stood in his office, with fire and determination burning in her eyes, he’d wanted her.
He still wanted her. The force of the attraction hadn’t lessened after spending the night with her. It had increased.
‘One you willingly went along with. You changed it to suit your needs simply to get a business. You didn’t think I was worthy of an explanation about the heir you needed to inherit everything.’
Her angry accusation had found its mark but he wouldn’t