Modern Romance January Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит
the time her eyes had been lined and mascara added to her lashes, she felt that even her mother would be hard-pressed to say she had a masculine appearance.
It was strong, certainly, quite a bit more angular, perhaps, than many women would consider ideal. But she was shocked to discover that she found the woman looking back at her in the mirror to be beautiful.
“The short hair is quite nice on you,” the hairstylist said.
Camilla nodded, looking at herself, leaning in to try to get a better idea of everything. She was shocked.
“I didn’t know I could look like this.”
“It’s all about finding what works for you,” the woman said.
“I just... I was always told I wasn’t...”
“What?” the makeup artist asked.
“I was told I wasn’t beautiful,” she responded. “Too dark. Not petite enough. In my figure...”
“Your skin is such a beautiful golden brown,” the makeup artist said. “And you can wear gold tones that would make a paler woman look sallow. You have a strong beauty. Which means it will not always agree with everyone around you, but those who appreciate it will never find another woman to match you.”
“And as for your figure,” the woman who had done nothing yet, and therefore Camilla assumed was the stylist, “it is the kind many would envy. We simply need to find the right dress to show it off.”
“But why do I need a dress?” She knew that she would need a wedding gown, and the very idea of that made her stomach turn over.
“Because,” the woman said. “You have a ball to attend.”
By dinner that night Matías was in a foul mood. He had not seen Camilla at all, and in many ways he supposed that was for the best. They were going to dine together tonight, but she was late. He didn’t like tardiness. Not in the least.
He tapped his fingers on the table, still marveling at the changes that had occurred in his life in the past twenty-four hours. What had begun with a stable boy getting kicked in the head by a horse had ended with a kidnap, a shocking revelation and a marriage proposal.
Or more a marriage demand, he supposed.
But in the end, the semantics of it didn’t matter. Not really.
The door to the dining room opened and he looked up and was utterly stunned by what he saw. The woman walking in wearing a bright orange dress, her short, dark hair styled neatly, with the gold band around her head like a halo, looked like no one he had ever met before. And yet, at the same time, he recognized her.
There was no question that Cam was indeed a woman.
Her curves were slight, her body toned and athletic, but most definitely female. Her breasts were small and high, her waist slim, her hips sturdy, which was an odd descriptor, perhaps, but not a negative one.
It made a man want to test that strength. She was like a warrior goddess. All gold, bronze and a kind of glowing beauty that seemed nearly supernatural.
He curled his fingers into a fist and tried to gather his thoughts. She was a tool to be used to spite his grandfather, to thwart Diego. She was correct. If he wanted a woman for sex, he could easily acquire one. There were ways to go about keeping things discreet. He did consider himself a man of integrity, a man who would honor commitments once they were made. But so long as Camilla knew about the other women, as long as they were clear about the general state of their marriage, he saw no real issue with taking lovers. It was, indeed, a business transaction, sealed with a handshake as she had suggested. Then it shouldn’t matter.
“Hello,” she said, her shoulders slightly stiff, her expression difficult to read.
“So this is who you really are?” he asked.
“No,” she said, making her way down the side of the table, her fingertips brushing against the glossy surface as she did so delicate. If he had ever truly looked at those hands he would have known immediately that she was all woman. “This is a very polished version of me. Though it is the one you will see for the duration of this ruse, I have no doubt, so long as I have that team readily available when needed. I cannot accomplish this on my own.”
“Can you not? You are an heiress. I was under the impression that women like you learned these things from the womb. Isn’t your mother a great socialite and beauty?”
“I am the heiress of nothing but debts, as I’m sure you’re well aware. Meanwhile, my mother had little interest in a daughter, whether or not it was to raise her, or to teach her to use eyeliner. I was raised by my father.”
She took a seat with two chair spaces between them. “I spent my life with horses. My father let me run wild, I think because he felt bad for the way my mother treated me. For her disinterest in me. Or perhaps, it was simply because he was lonely, as she was equally disinterested in him. Whatever the reason, it meant that I had a rather unconventional upbringing, as they go.”
“He must have instilled a certain amount of boldness in you.”
“Cesar Alvarez was nothing if not bold. A man who continued to run his empire as though he possessed millions when he was, in fact, in debt, that amount could be expected to be nothing less, I suppose.”
“Did your father lie about a lot of things?”
She lifted a bare shoulder, and his eyes were drawn to that sleek, golden skin. She was a fascinating creature. To transform the way she had, from such a brown little sparrow beneath his notice, to this vision of gold and fire.
It didn’t matter, of course, not really. He needed a wife to appease his grandfather, and he needed a woman on his arm for this gala because dammit all, he had his pride.
He might not have loved Liliana, but losing a fiancée to his brother was not acceptable, regardless.
Having another woman on his arm to replace the one he’d lost suited him. The fact that Camilla was a rare beauty was a bonus.
“Not that I knew. But then I had no idea about the state of his finances, so I suppose it’s possible. I suppose it’s possible that I never knew him. That he concealed a great many things from me. But I do think that I knew his heart. He loved me. And he loved his horses. It’s why I feel so compelled to make sure that both are taken care of.”
“And self-interest, I would imagine.”
She nodded. “Self-interest certainly comes into it. I would like to not be homeless. And I miss the rancho. It was...in many ways my second parent. It raised me. The people on it raised me. It’s part of who I am. In my blood. I would do...nearly anything to be restored to it.”
“That, I think I can understand. I love this place,” he said, looking around the ornate dining room.
“Did you have a happy childhood here?” She looked away from him when she asked that question, almost as if she already knew.
But then he wouldn’t be surprised if she did. Rumors of his father’s temper certainly weren’t contained only to his village.
“I did not,” he responded. “My mother died here. My father was a tyrant. My grandfather before him was no better. I suppose you could say what I love about this place is that it endured. That it remains beautiful in spite of the ugliness that has bled itself all over the grounds. There are very few honest things in this world, and I think you and I agree on what they are. Horses, and church. These things... They will not fail. I wish to make this place something it should have been all along. Something better. Something that is not about serving the egos of the men in control of it.”
“And if Diego ends up with it...”
“He will be no different. He is not a man capable of love.”
Her brows creased at the center. “And you?”
“There are things that