Proud Revenge, Passionate Wedlock. Janette Kenny

only left her with a dull headache.

      “Fine,” she said, capitulating without argument. “I will visit the hacienda and Cristobel’s grave, then return here.”

      “No.” The single word cracked with finality, defying argument.

      Her gaze shifted to Miguel standing tall and imposing in the sala. For the first time she noted the changes in him. He’d put on more muscle in his shoulders and torso, making him look formidable. Dangerous even.

      He was not a man to be crossed.

      Yet she didn’t fear him.

      No, there was a mystique in his dark eyes that drew her. But though she’d fallen into his arms before, she’d not make that mistake again.

      Never again would she allow herself to be shut out of her husband’s life. She certainly wouldn’t push her heart out there to be trampled again.

      “You can’t order me about,” she said.

      He inclined his head in arrogant agreement. “I would not attempt to, but if you wish to have an uncontested divorce, you will agree to my proposal.”

      The dread in her stomach quivered and knotted, for his threat was clear—agree with him or spend years litigating her divorce. She didn’t have the funds for that and he knew it.

      Still, she wasn’t about to capitulate immediately. “I can’t imagine why you’d wish to draw this out.”

      His flash of teeth warned her she’d not like his answer. “Let’s call it equitable compensation for the fortune in jewelry you stole.”

      She blinked, certain she hadn’t heard him right. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “Of course you would deny it.” He prowled the room with lazy insouciance, though his glittering eyes continued to skewer her to the spot. “I will admit this was partly my fault, for I gave you the combination to the safe. I trusted you.”

      The accusation she’d stolen anything from him fired her anger. Though the memory of the hours surrounding the accident remained a blur, she knew she’d not availed herself of anything stored in the safe before she’d left the hacienda.

      She felt certain that wherever she was going hadn’t warranted her wearing a fortune in jewelry. “All that I took with me that day were my wedding rings.”

      He stared at her bare left hand. “Did you hock those as well?”

      “I didn’t pawn any jewelry,” she said, hurt and angry that he continued to believe the worst in her.

      “You still have them then?”

      “I told you all I had with me were my wedding rings.”

      He loosed a raw laugh. “Which you no longer wear.”

      She stared at the stubborn man she’d lost her heart to and weighed her actions. Really, there was no choice.

      “In this, I take delight in proving you wrong,” she said.

      Allegra pulled on the gold chain hidden under her blouse until the diamond and emerald engagement ring and gold wedding band that had been created for her dangled free. “I lost a good deal of weight and feared I’d lose these.”

      His long, lean fingers closed over the rings that were warmed from nestling between her breasts. A quicksilver glint of longing lit his dark eyes then vanished under his shrewd scrutiny.

      “You expect me to believe you wear these all the time?”

      “I couldn’t care less what you believe!” She gave the chain a tug, and he released the rings as if they burned him. “Perhaps it was silly of me to continue wearing the tokens of your troth when it is clear you no longer wanted me.”

      “I never said I didn’t want you, querida.” A slow rapacious smile curved the lips that had once ravished every inch of her body, and despite her annoyance with Miguel a tingling heat skittered over her body.

      “Enough arguing,” she said. “Our prenuptial agreement details my settlement. I’ve no desire to contest it.”

      “It would be a waste of time and money to do so.”

      A fact she was well aware of. “Fine,” she said again when she felt anything but fine. “What is your proposal?”

      “I want you.”

      Those three words sucked the breath from her. Surely he couldn’t mean it like that. But as the seconds pounded by and he failed to explain, she suspected this was indeed intended to be a sexual connotation.

      “Want me how?” she asked anyway in case her foggy mind was imagining things.

      And right now her imagination was running horribly wild. Just the idea of falling into his strong arms again was a temptationshe found difficult to reject.

      The carnal glint in his eyes threatened to melt her remainingresolve. “As my wife. My lover.”

      His words flowed through her veins in a thick, warm rush of need. She should be offended he’d suggest such a thing—at the very least she should be angry he’d demote her to the role of mistress.

      But the idea hummed through her senses and made her feel more alive than she had in months. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of a solid argument to throw out there.

      In fact she was suddenly having difficulty dragging her gaze away from the solid expanse of his bare chest. Her fingertips tingled with the need to trace the hard slabs of muscle liberally sprinkled with black hair.

      His bronzed skin would be warm and the hair soft as down. Her gaze tracked the hair that narrowed into a thin band and disappeared under his swim trunks that he wore indecently low on his lean hips.

      For the first time since the accident, moisture gathered in the juncture of her thighs. Yes, she’d missed her husband. She’d missed the unbridled sex they’d shared. Missed lying in his arms afterward listening to the steady drum of his heart.

      “A farewell fling then,” she said, and cringed at the reedy pitch to her voice that seemed to scream of her own need. “What if I refuse?”

      “Then the deal is off. I’ll drag the divorce out and slap a lien against your beach house.” He crossed to her, each step slow and measured and tightening her nerves until she thought they’d snap.

      Her mouth dropped open, and a sick feeling expanded in her belly to pop her sensual bubble. “You’d do that to me?”

      “In a heartbeat,” he said with arrogant assurance of his power. “What will it be?”

      There was only one choice and he knew it. The only difference was her reason for bending to his will—she wanted closure badly enough to put her heart through an emotional wringer with Miguel again.

      “When do we begin?”

      “Tonight. I invited a norteamericano businessman to dinner tonight to show my gratitude for the property we have successfully negotiated.” He ran a finger down her flushed cheek and she had to lock her knees to keep from bowing into him. “The El Trópico in Playa del Carmen would be the perfect place for dinner and drinks.”

      She pulled back and stared at his arrogantly handsome face, expecting a glint of reluctance or hopefully humor after tossing out that name. But his features were too remote for her to read.

      “Are you serious?” she asked. “The Quinta Avenida at night is a swarm of tourists, celebrities wishing to be seen and paparazzi.”

      He smiled and not a kind one. “Afraid your lover will see us together on the cover of a slick rag, querida? Or has your romance with Amando Rivera ended?”

      “Amando! You can’t believe I’d court his interest.”

      His gaze blazed into hers with brutal intensity. “I know