Modern Romance November Books 5-8. Annie West
at him.
He smiled.
Lola looked down at her baby’s fuzzy jacket, breathing in his sweet baby scent. “I don’t appreciate ham-fisted threats.”
He shrugged. “I despise long engagements—”
“Long!”
“I want to get this done.” His gaze hardened. “Is there any reason to delay?”
Her friends, she thought desperately. She wanted Tess and Hallie here for emotional support. And what about her little sisters? She hadn’t seen them for seven years, but it felt wrong not to have her only family here.
But she couldn’t be vulnerable enough to show weakness. Especially not with Rodrigo.
Instead, she indicated her black puffy jacket and leggings. “Does this look like a wedding dress to you?”
Taking off his cashmere coat, he glanced down at his own black shirt and trousers and gave a sardonic smile. “We are both wearing black, which seems appropriate for the occasion.”
“Meaning what? This is like a funeral for you?” Hurt rushed through her, followed by anger. “If you’re having second thoughts about marriage...”
His dark eyes turned hard. “I’m not. And neither are you.” He looked down at her. “It happens now.”
Her heart sank. So there would be no pleasant pre-wedding afternoon at the day spa with Tess and Hallie. No deep intense conversations over champagne as they helped her get ready to be a bride. They wouldn’t be here to support her as she pledged her life to the man who’d broken her heart. The man who’d judged her past mistakes and made it clear he didn’t think she was good enough. The man who’d tossed her love back in her face, and would never, ever, have wanted to marry her if not for Jett.
Lola would face it alone. Dressed for a funeral.
She took a deep breath.
“Fine,” she said coldly. “Let’s get it over with.”
They returned to the main room of the loft.
“We’re ready,” Rodrigo told the judge.
“There’s no rush, you know.” The white-haired man suddenly looked nervous, glancing between them as if wondering what he’d gotten himself into, and how he could get himself out of it. “Marriage is, after all, a solemn occasion. Now that I think about it, there’s a reason why the State of New York, in its infinite wisdom, instituted a twenty-four-hour waiting period—”
“Just do it,” Rodrigo said harshly. His hand gripped her shoulder.
“Please,” whispered Lola, ignoring the lump in her throat.
The judge hesitated. Then the baby gave a sudden sleepy whimper in Lola’s arms, and she and Rodrigo both turned to comfort him. Watching them caring together for their son, tucking the baby back into the stroller for his nap, the judge seemed reassured. He gave a decisive nod when they returned.
“Very well. Ladies and gentlemen,” he intoned. “We are gathered here today, in the presence of witnesses, to unite this man and this woman in the bonds of matrimony...”
The short ceremony passed quickly. As if in a dream, Lola heard herself speak the words that bound her to Rodrigo for life.
But the awful truth was, she’d bound herself to him long ago, from the night she’d become pregnant with his child.
And now, from this moment on, forever.
Rodrigo’s dark eyes gleamed down at her as the ceremony drew to a close. He seemed almost surprised. Why? Had he thought for some reason that something would prevent it?
Their eyes locked as he slid that obscenely huge diamond on her finger. Funny. Once, she would have dreamed of a moment like this. At fourteen, she dreamed of love, and a handsome prince. At eighteen, she would have just been keen to hock the ring.
And now, at twenty-five, how different this moment felt from anything she’d imagined!
“... I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The judge looked between them with a wink. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Kiss?
Lola looked up at the man who was now her husband. I feel nothing, she told herself desperately. Nothing.
As Rodrigo lowered his head toward hers, she put her hand up to stop him. His chest felt so powerful, so muscular, that in spite of herself, she shivered. “What about your wedding band?” His left hand was still bare. “Don’t you need a ring, too?”
“I’m a man. I don’t need jewelry to feel married.”
She stiffened at his sexist remark. But before she could protest, he took her roughly into his arms.
“Mrs. Cabrera,” he whispered.
Her lips parted in shock as she heard him speak her new name. Ruthlessly, he lowered his mouth to hers.
His lips were hot and sweet, tasting of spice and fire. As he kissed her, the world started to spin. Feeling the strength and power of his body against her own, she gripped his shoulders for balance. She forgot everything in her own aching need. She’d wanted him for so long. A sigh rose from deep inside her, the recognition that this man was hers, hers alone, as she had always been his...
The judge, housekeeper and bodyguard watching them applauded, and Lola suddenly remembered they had an audience.
Pulling away, Rodrigo looked down at her with gleaming eyes.
Pleasure was still spiraling through her as her lips tingled from his bruising kiss. When his mouth had claimed hers, all the distance between them, all the coldness and anger, had exploded into fire, like two storms colliding. But now the distance was back.
She tried to read his expression, to see if the kiss had affected him like it had her. But his face gave nothing away. “Thank you,” he said to the judge, then turned to the bodyguard, Tobias. “Everything is ready for our departure?”
“Already packed, Mr. Cabrera.”
“Packed?” Lola frowned at her brand-new husband. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Not me. We.” Rodrigo gave her a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “My jet is waiting to take us to Los Angeles.”
It was like a splash of ice water, jolting her awake. “But New York is my home now. My sisters—all my friends—”
His lips twisted. “Friends like Morozov?”
“He was never my friend!”
He snorted. “Exactly.”
Lola ground her teeth. “Why are you being so unreasonable!”
“You just agreed to be my wife, Lola. To honor and obey.” Rodrigo gave her a cruel smile. Cupping her cheek, he looked down at her as he said softly, “Now you will.”
* * *
Rodrigo could hardly believe it.
After all his engagements that had never made it to the altar, this one actually had. They were married. He was almost in shock.
Perhaps it was true he’d rushed their vows that morning. But once he’d made up his mind to marry her, he couldn’t give Lola a chance to betray him like the rest. He couldn’t take any chances with fate, or whatever else had cursed his life.
This marriage would work. It had to work. They had a child.
Now, as Rodrigo drove his red convertible north, traveling from the private airport outside Los Angeles to his beach house near Malibu, Rodrigo glanced at the rearview mirror. He saw his baby’s pudgy hand waving from the rear-facing baby seat. Jett was making cooing noises, and seemed delighted to be in California, beneath the palm trees and warm blue