The Tycoon's Red Hot Marriage Merger by Christine Glover Read Free Book Online Page B

grip, drawing her closer. “With the gauchos on my father’s Estancia in La Plata west of Buenos Aires,” Marco replied in a voice devoid of emotion.
    Adrenaline rushed to her extremities. Her skin prickled with tiny goose bumps. With that one monotone sentence Marco had revealed more about himself than he realized. He had been taken in by his father, but he’d never been accepted or given a seat in the main house.
    The knowledge spoke volumes about what had driven Marco to go after her family’s shipbuilding corporation. Only then did she fully realize the magnitude of his father’s rejection, and that her society’s shunning ripped open those childhood scars after his father died. He’d lost everything once before. No wonder regaining his passport to her world was so vital.
    It wasn’t much. A nugget at best. If she mined that knowledge carefully, she’d find the piece of gold that flowed through Marco’s veins. That sliver of treasure had the potential to give her more than a business agreement—if he would allow her to get close enough to chip away the barriers guarding his heart.
    She’d already given him the key to reentry when she’d committed to their loveless marriage. But maybe, just maybe, building an emotional connection with him would eliminate the emotional gulf between them.
    A gust of wind slapped her dress against the back of her thighs. Memories of the crash, the accusations afterward, flashed warning signals. Chilled, Cassandra shivered, but drew away ever so slightly from Marco’s sheltering heat.
    Quickly recalibrating her thoughts, Cassandra refocused her line of questioning on all the aspects of Marco’s life on land, not the sea. “Tell me about the Estancia ,” she said as they approached a small outdoor festival.
    Bright lights illuminated the town square. Color was everywhere—in the street with its jewel-toned mopeds, the small cars whipping around the traffic circle, and in the people’s bright colored outfits.
    “The ranch covered hundreds of thousands of acres and the villa was typical Spanish colonial style.” Marco escorted her to an outdoor street café with wrought iron tables that lined the sidewalk. “I learned how to rope, and to ride, and to play polo, but my passion has always been the sea.”
    Music and dancers filled the street around her. The tourists and locals relaxed, enjoying the cool evening weather with the stars peeking through the blanket of indigo above. But Cassandra would have to tread carefully while here.
    The cacophony of sounds, twinkling lights, people rushing to and from the square blurred. Marco had returned their conversation to the last place she wanted to discuss. Shaking, she grasped the edges of a metal chair for support. “Why is the sea so important?” she asked, unable to look at him for fear of betraying herself.
    “I was born near the ocean. The sea flowed through my mother’s bloodline.” A measure of pride inflected his voice. “I come from a line of sailors, and fishermen, and one very determined world wide dancing champion.”
    That the man had a ballroom dancing mother didn’t shock Cassandra. After all, Marco had certainly impressed her with his moves on the dance floor. If only he would impress her with his moves in the bedroom, too.
    She pushed down the errant thought. Focus on Marco. Don’t let your hormones do the talking. “What about your father? How did you learn about Ramone Delgado?” she asked.
    “If my mother hadn’t died, I’d never have known the man.” He waved his hand toward the street. “Let’s dance.”
    Tightness banded around her chest. She had a thousand questions swirling through her head, but she tucked them away. This was a business deal. However, connecting with Marco on a less dangerous playing field might lead to further revelations and at least offer them a chance of friendship, too.
    “Fabulous idea,” she said.
    Marco swept his arms around her and twirled her toward the dancing