Modern Romance January Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

her soul. Those familiar grounds, the worn entryway tiles, that she once again ached to feel beneath her feet.

      “I agree,” she said. “On one condition.”

      “And what is that?” he asked, his expression dark.

      “When we divorce, return my father’s rancho to me.”

      He said nothing for a moment. “That is a rather large ask.”

      She crossed her arms and gave him her fiercest glare. “As is demanding I marry you.”

      “You think you’re worth millions?”

      “Yes,” she said, not blinking. “Or at least I think the demand that we marry is worth that.”

      He arched one dark brow. “You expect to be my wife in name only and come away with a grand estate?”

      “And some of the horses. Not Fuego. I understand that you won’t relinquish control of him. But the others. The ones that will never make champions for you. I want them.”

      “And additionally, you would like to continue to see Fuego. Am I right?”

      “Of course. Do you have anyone else who can train him? Who can counsel a jockey on how best to handle him? No, I don’t think you do.”

      “That is quite a hard bargain that you’re driving, but I have to tell you that I’m inclined to refuse. You are not offering me enough in return.”

      “I am offering to be your wife for however long a term you need.”

      He appraised her slowly, and it felt like a flame held close to her skin and drawn over sensitive, vulnerable areas. A thorough burn that made her feel restless and helpless.

      “If you were offering use of your body, then perhaps you would be in a greater position to demand such a thing.”

      Everything inside her recoiled, curled up into a ball, not out of disgust, but fear. That he had identified her shameful attraction to him, that he could see inside her. And that he was mocking her. Because surely, a man who had wanted to marry that birdlike blonde beauty would not find her attractive. Particularly not standing there in ragged boy’s clothes, with her hair cut close to her skull and sticking up at odd angles.

      “No. You need a wife. And that’s all. If you want a prostitute, buy one.” She tilted her chin upward, attempting to radiate defiance, attempting to radiate confidence.

      She was banking on the fact that his options truly were limited or he never would have approached her with this in the first place.

      If he was shocked by her words, he didn’t show it.

      “Fascinating,” he said. “You truly do possess a remarkable amount of boldness. I assumed it was because of your youth, back when I thought that’s what you were. Fourteen-year-old boys are often imbued with a sense of self-confidence that is undeserved. However, it is rare to find a woman who is the same.”

      “I cannot tell if you’re flattering me or insulting me,” she said.

      “Neither,” he said simply. “It is what you make of it. I am merely observing. I find it inconvenient, as a great many people would be cowed by me, and you clearly are not. However, if you will agree to be my wife, then I will give you all that you have asked for.”

      Heart pounding, she stuck her hand out and met his gaze. “I agree,” she said, “I will be your wife.”

      He looked down at her hand. “You expect to close this deal with a handshake?”

      “Yes,” she said. “As I see it as a business transaction, and nothing more. You’re right. I am bold. And I’m feeling quite confident in my position.”

      She hoped she wasn’t overplaying her hand. Because she had nothing. Nothing at all, except her person. Her gender had been the barrier to what she had wanted before, and now it was the key. She would not hesitate to use it. She could have her home back. Something she had never thought possible. All she would have to do was be his wife, and that was nothing. A simple legal matter. Then she would be free. She would be free to ride through the olive groves again, to run barefoot on hot, sundrenched grounds that spoke to her of happiness.

      She had known, had felt driven and compelled to get work on this rancho, because she’d had nothing else, but she’d had no idea it might lead to this level of salvation. That it could well and truly solve all her problems.

      “Then you have yourself a deal.” He reached out, taking hold of her hand and shaking it hard, the strength and heat in his grip making something tremble deep inside her. But she ignored it.

      She wanted the ranch. She wanted her freedom. Wanted something more than facing a life of potential homelessness should the whims of someone else dictate it.

      “Perfect,” he said. “Tomorrow I shall call my grandfather and explain there has been a change of bride. And then... We shall work at making you suitable.”

      Matías was still feeling the sharp, hot effects of rage as he picked up the phone the next morning to call his abuelo.

      Liliana had been perfect. And now he was to be tasked with turning this...this urchin into a silk purse. Something he doubted was even possible. She was... He imagined in some ways she could be lovely. At least, he was hoping so.

      But she was not Liliana. She would never be. Also, there would have to be a way to take the story and turn it into something that didn’t sound salacious. That he had fallen for a woman dressed as a stable hand on his property during the course of his engagement to the lovely heiress would be a difficult one to spin, though not impossible.

      Particularly given Liliana’s defection.

      The fact that she was now with Diego made that part easier, at least. In no way would he come out of it looking the cad. Not when she had been seduced away from him.

      “Hola, Matías,” came his grandfather’s rough, cultured voice over the other end of the line. The man sounded yet more ancient with each passing day, and still, he spoke with an air of authority that made Matías grind his teeth.

      The old man was a puppet master. Not overtly cruel in the ways his father had been, but he had been the creator of Matías’s father, after all, and it was clear to see how a lifetime of those machinations had dulled Matías’s father’s senses to right and wrong. To any sense of human kindness.

      The Navarro family had a legacy that seemed to be born of spite and nourished by blood. Matías wanted no part of it.

      But his grandfather didn’t want the rancho. And he didn’t want to maintain control of his company.

      “Hola,” Matías responded. “I assume by now Diego has been in touch with you to inform you that he has taken a bride.”

      The old man chuckled. “Indeed. He has. Though I think in his case he has literally taken a bride. Your bride.”

      “Yes. However, it was convenient for me in many ways, as I did not have to shatter Liliana’s heart,” Matías said, each word decisive.

      “Really, Matías,” his grandfather said.

      “Really. I have met someone else. Don’t you see? I was trapped because I needed to honor my commitment to Liliana,” he said, knowing he was spitting out a tale that gratified his grandfather’s sense of what roles he and Diego played in their lives. Good and evil.

      There was never a question as to how far Diego would go, because he lacked scruples, and it was well-known. But he knew that his grandfather would be incredibly amused to see how the scrupulous grandson dealt with this.

      “Is that so?” his grandfather asked. “That seems a bit convenient.”

      “I suppose it is. But then things in life so seldom are, so it is nice when it all falls into place. There has been a girl working for me, taking care of the horses, and I found myself quite