The Tycoon's Red Hot Marriage Merger (11 page)

Cassandra sighed. “She was never the warm and fuzzy type. And after Justin died, she collapsed into her grief.”

A band tightened around his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Now, more than ever, he understood how much they had in common and what had drawn him to Cassandra in the first place. If anyone could comprehend the pain of Marco’s isolation, it was she. “I’m sorry,
Tesoro
,” Marco said. “You deserve to be loved for who you are without conditions.” Though he had negotiated a marriage of convenience without promising to love, honor, and cherish other than on paper, more than awesome sex and mutual respect bound them now.

And that freaked him out more than he cared to admit. Because he’d never let anyone become that close for years.

“What about your father?” Cassandra asked, feathering her fingers across her chest. “Did he love you?”

“He loved me in his own way, but my stepmother? Not so much. And though he was a powerful financier and industrialist, he never said no to her.” Sometimes even benign neglect could leave a scar, however unintentional. “I learned to live with it because I had to.”

Her fingertips suddenly turned to ice against his skin and she stilled her movement. He heard her swallow hard. “But he died so soon after the head injury. If it hadn’t been for my…” her voice trailed off.

Dios.
He hated hearing the pain behind the words. The guilt resurrecting again when he’d hoped he had convinced Cassandra she shouldn’t blame herself for what had happened. “You have had catamarans winning trophies in the years since that terrible day, so perhaps I should bear some of the responsibility.”

“There wasn’t any validity to my father’s accusations.” Cassandra rested her cheek against his chest and he could feel her eyelashes fluttering. “You weren’t at fault. Grief made everyone crazy afterward and none of us could see the facts.”

Her voice sounded strained and hoarse like she had to struggle to speak. An arrow lanced him deep in the heart. Marco tilted her chin up and gazed into Cassandra’s luminous indigo eyes. “At the end of the day, my father made the choice to race like your brother did,” he said, not wanting Cassandra to carry the burden of guilt any longer.

“But my father destroyed your reputation.”

“And, because of your clever proposal, we’re on our way to fixing that problem.” Marco kissed Cassandra’s forehead and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Once we do that we can move on.”

“Together, right?” she asked while she scooted out of his embrace and pulled herself on top of him. “Because I won’t go back on my end of the bargain. Turns out I happen to like being married to you, too.”

“Most definitely together.” Marco pushed up, caressed her cheek, then anchored his hand behind her head. “In fact, I think we should finalize the bargain again to fine tune the contract’s details.”

When he caught her mouth with his, tasted her all over again, more than lust and passion unleashed and whipped through his brain. Kissing Cassandra felt like he’d finally come home to the one place he belonged. And though he hadn’t expected this to happen, and it surprised the hell out of him, Marco realized that he’d gained more than a marriage of convenience with sexy side benefits when he’d agreed to Cassandra’s proposal. He’d also gained an ally, someone he could trust.

###

The following morning, after an intense night of incredible sex, Cassandra snuggled in the shelter of Marco’s arm. The yacht swayed and early morning sunlight illuminated the master bedroom’s interior through the porthole. Outside she could hear birds calling and the waves lapping against the stern.

Soon, Marco would wake up and they’d begin a day of sightseeing and—she hoped—so much more. But for now, she had a few minutes to gather her thoughts while she gazed at him. His lush dark lashes swept across his cheekbones, which gave her a peek at the boy hiding behind the man. He had incredible passion and, as she had predicted, he had been a tender and attentive lover.

She listened to his heart beating. Steady and strong and sure. Just like Marco. Here was a man she could count on. Though she hadn’t told him all the details about the events leading up to the crash, Marco had been right about one thing: the design hadn’t been the flaw. Justin’s dyslexia had caused that fatal error. She had almost revealed that information last night, but why drag her brother’s name through the mud and resurrect that history when she had given Marco the power to reclaim all that he had lost?

Besides, they deserved some happiness after all they had been through after that terrible day. While she had proposed to stop Marco’s plot to takeover her family’s corporation, their marriage had given her a place to heal. An unexpected and unlikely place, which shocked her. And more than that, he liked her. A first. She couldn’t recall anyone remotely seeking her out other than for homework bailouts in high school and free tutoring during her years in college.

Other than her brother, Cassandra hadn’t had real friends. The people in her life tolerated her or used her when necessary—like that jerk Peter—but until this week she hadn’t known the depth of her loneliness.

Until Marco’s revenge threat had forced her to approach him with her crazy scheme.

Yet, he had been the first person to reach out and extend compassion to her since she lost her brother. While they came from extremely different backgrounds, they had one thing in common—neither of them had ever had a true friend. Not only that, but the friendship blooming between them, along with their sexual chemistry, could lead to a deeper connection. One that could go a long way to giving her what she had always dreamed of having with the man she married. Love.

An old familiar empty feeling settled behind her breastbone. True friends shared everything. And she had withheld a vital piece of information from Marco. But love also motivated that decision. She didn’t want to drag Justin’s reputation through the muck and mire when she’d already found the perfect way to protect him and give Marco what he wanted and deserved.

Cassandra traced the hard planes of Marco’s washboard abs. The sheets bunched around his waist and he’d flung one long, muscular leg out of the covers. Maybe one day she could tell Marco what had happened all those years ago, but for now she would focus on nurturing the tiny speck of affection developing between them. And maybe, just maybe, it would blossom into more than either of them expected.

Tenderly, she pulled the cover over his leg and he stirred. “Good morning,” Marco said, his voice gruff. “Did you sleep well?”

“Best night I’ve had in years.” She moved her thigh across his legs and he tightened his hold on her shoulders.

“For me, too.” He kissed the top of her head. “You ready to enjoy the rest of your honeymoon, Mrs. Delgado?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” She scooted in closer and drew comfort from the warmth of his body. “But first, I need something to eat.”

“We did skip dinner.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “The dessert was divine.”

“Mmmm. We could punt breakfast, too.”

“Not if we want to have another round of
dessert
,” Cassandra said before breaking their contact and rolling off the bed. “I’m starving.” After opening her built-in mahogany wardrobe, she pulled out a short red satin robe and drew it over her shoulders, tying the sash around her waist.

“
Buenos
.” He joined her, unabashed about his nudity and rifled around for his board shorts. He tugged them on and grabbed a navy polo shirt. “We’ll eat, shower—maybe together…”

“Marco,” she scolded half seriously. “I do want to see more than the inside of this cabin.” And later today, she wanted to run her next crazy scheme past Marco before she chickened out.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” She pointed to the galley. “Breakfast. Now. And then I have something I need to discuss with you.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It’s a good thing.”

Marco had praised her designs, but he had no idea that she had a catamaran to beat all others in its class waiting for her to complete its ocean trials after they returned to Key West. And now, more than ever, she wanted to give that boat to Marco. Not just to make up for all that had happened four years ago, but because she wanted to give something special to the man she had married.

A man she could call friend.

Chapter Nine

Although Cassandra had hoped to build on the tenuous emotional connection growing between her and Marco, he had avoided caving to her attempts. And to complicate things, in his zeal to show her a good time, Marco had steered her away from what she had wanted to tell him the morning after they had first made love. Now, three days later, after snorkeling, swimming, and making love—though Marco only referred to it as wild, crazy sex—they sailed the
Diablo
out of the cove and into the open Atlantic Ocean waters.

Manning the helm, the wind whipping her hair around her face, she was glad Marco had done more than unleash her inner vixen. Her sea legs had returned and she reveled in controlling the power of the vessel while watching Marco’s strong, muscular arms hoist the sails, adjusting the fairlead to alter the direction of the turning block. He moved the outhaul to pull the clew of the mainsail towards the boom, tightening the foot of the sail.

“The wind’s perfect,” she called.

“
Si
,” he replied. “Bring her round to port, and we’ll increase the speed.” Though this yacht wasn’t built to race, the
Diablo
sluiced through the water at high speed and the thrilling sensation almost surpassed how Marco made her feel whenever he made love with her.

Almost, but not quite. Nothing could compare to the exhilaration of Marco’s intense pleasure whenever he took her. And that was often after their first time. She’d grown used to running around half naked and had learned a great number of incredible new sexy things in bed and in the ocean and in all kinds of unique locations. Marco had outrageous, decadent ideas about how to enjoy each other’s bodies. And she found that she relished them.

She was growing to care for Marco. He’d taught her so much and had given her such freedom. But he’d failed to give her what she’d hoped existed beneath his rough surface. His heart. Yes, he’d warned her not to expect anything more, but she could see glimmers of the possibility when he lost himself in her, crying her name.

She blinked back the tears prickling behind her eyes—salt stinging them most likely—and tossed her head back, laughing in spite of her inner turmoil.

He caught her eye, pointed to the dolphins swimming off shore, and grinned. She smiled back. His eagerness to share the scope of his world never failed to bring her happiness.

“After we return to the Casa, we’ll clean up and head to Mar del Fuego. The village has a festival tonight, and I never miss it,” Marco said.

His St. Brendan’s pendant caught the sun’s rays and flashed. “Sounds great.” Salt and wind whipped through Cassandra’s hair, loosening the strands from her customary ponytail. “We should be back in the cove in less than an hour.”

Saving her family’s company with this marriage had insured her father’s acquiescence and full assistance. In two weeks, they would return to Key West for the elaborate reception her parents had planned to welcome the newly wedded couple into the Regatta society’s fold whether Cassandra wanted to or not.

Her stomach clenched. Memories of the yacht club’s younger members malicious teasing echoed. Would they undermine her in the same awful ways that they had in the past? Old jeers and taunts cast dark shadows and marred today’s glorious blue skies and brilliant sunshine. Cassandra inhaled a deep breath, waiting for the knot in her belly to untie, then willed herself to bury her fears. She had nothing to worry about with Marco by her side.

They had only been gone for a few short days, but she already wished for her honeymoon to remain stamped in time. She would rather remain on the open sea, hear the rush of the waves against the stern, and sail under the glow of the sun.

Marco yelled, “Veer to the left. I’ll bring down the sails.” He rolled the ropes onto the gages, secured the sails onto the mast.

Cassandra couldn’t keep her eyes off him. His back and shoulders were bronzed to a burnished tan. And she could see the cords of his muscles rippling while he brought the canvas flaps under control, then stowed them.

She had to return to Key West with Marco. But maybe, just maybe, she could manipulate the situation in a positive way. “You ever consider racing again?” she asked though she already felt sure of the answer. He’d had more than one reason for coming after her family’s shipbuilding corporation.

Marco closed the distance between them, then moved behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. “I have, but can’t race without a boat or a crew to man her.” He kissed her temple.

Every nerve ending tingled in anticipation. His proximity unglued her. She swallowed hard to regain some equilibrium. “You own Nelson Industries,” she said. “Which means you have your pick of the fleet. But what you don’t know is that I’ve designed a new catamaran. I’m aiming for her to race in the Platinum Cup this July.”