Santa Fe Fortune & How to Marry a Matador

what I don’t understand. Why did you?”
    Jess felt a lurch of emotion as he dissected her with his earnest green gaze. “I…don’t know.”
    He leaned toward her with a husky whisper. “Oh, but I think you do.”
    He drew nearer, his mouth hovering over hers. Jess cursed herself for so badly wanting his kiss. His kisses had been so tantalizing last night, they’d made her lose all sense of reason. And it wasn’t just the way he’d held her. When he’d looked deep in her eyes and said that one thing, she’d inexplicably believed him as she had no man before.
    “Why did you?”
    Fernando reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. “Because, querida, when I saw you standing there in that garden, with that beautiful smile on your lips, I knew with a certainty that I’d have to claim them. That I wouldn’t rest until I made you mine.”
    “It was a simple sexual attraction.”
    “There was nothing simple about it,” he said, brushing his lips to hers.
    Jess closed her eyes as her heart stilled. She couldn’t let herself do this, but she couldn’t stop herself either. His masculine scent washed over her as she felt his palm press into the small of her back.
    “Jessica,” he said, resting his forehead on hers. “When I tell you the truth about this morning, I don’t want you to believe that anything last night was a lie.” And then to prove it, he kissed her deeply, with a skill and a passion that made her lose grip of her wine, sending the contents of her cup sloshing sideways.
    “Your sister’s riding pants,” she said, nearly breathless.
    “They’ll wash,” he said, tenderly stroking her thigh.
    “Fernando,” Jess gasped, pulling back. “We can’t.”
    He studied her a thoughtful moment as she gazed at him wide-eyed.
    “Then we won’t,” he said with a quick peck on her lips.
    She shivered involuntarily in spite of herself. This man had a way of completely undoing her.
    “We’ll have a little something to eat first.” He pulled several small bundles from his bag, along with a small knife and a cutting board.
    “While we talk?”
    “Of course,” he said, handing her a napkin for her slacks. “Then afterwards, I’ll let you decide.”
    “Decide what?”
    Fernando shot her a sexy grin as he refilled her wine.
    “Whether or not I’m the husband of your dreams.”

Chapter Four

    “So, it’s not true,” Jess said with relief. “We’re not really married?”
    Fernando took a slow sip of his wine, perusing her over the rim of his cup. “In the eyes of the church, we are.”
    “And in the eyes of the state?”
    “That’s more problematic,” he bantered back.
    “More problematic how?”
    “Jessica,” he said with a lingering look, “I told you the paperwork takes time to process.”
    “Seven to ten days,” she replied, restating what he’d told her earlier.
    “Best-case scenario.”
    “Because everything’s been submitted to the magistrate in Seville?”
    “La Esperanza del Corazón is a small town,” he said deferentially. “Anything here has to be sent to a higher authority.”
    “Fernando,” she said, meaning it absolutely. “I need you to level with me. What’s in this pretense of a marriage for you?”
    He set down his cup, then took her own and put it aside. “Everything is at stake for me. More than you imagine.”
    “Like?” she pressed.
    Fernando heaved a sigh, surveying the panorama around him.
    “Like…” he said, with a weighty frown, “this place here. The ranch. My mother’s sustenance.”
    Jessica sat up a little straighter as north winds rippled, stirring the branches above them.
    “I don’t understand.”
    “My grandfather was a proud man. Proud and stubborn too. He decided long ago that he wished his legacy to continue. His commitment to the bulls, his attachment to this land…”
    “And?”
    “He wrote it all down,” Fernando said. “He wasn’t about to take chances. Ernesto Garcia de la Vega wanted to ensure that his legacy would continue.”
    “In what way?”
    “In a way that ensured a continuation of the line.”
    “You’re talking you, now?”
    “I’m talking me and you. Don’t you understand what this means? How huge this is?”
    She shook her head, utterly confused by his confession.
    “Jessica,” he said, fiercely meeting her gaze. “If I don’t find a bride and produce offspring by the time I’m thirty-two, this whole thing is for naught. This estate, my inheritance, any support meant to go to my