He gave his reflection one last look.
It was time to get married.
* * *
Sophie thanked whoever or whatever had looked out for her since her birth for her parents. Their excitement on this, her wedding day, was infectious and did much to curb the nerves chewing in her belly.
As Javier’s driver pulled up outside the villa, her mother practically squealed with excitement. ‘This is your home?’
Unable to speak, Sophie nodded.
The excited chatter between her parents fell to awed silence when they entered the house. Julio and one of the maids greeted them with smiles that didn’t quite meet their eyes. If anything, their smiles could be interpreted as sympathetic, which sent alarm bells ringing in her.
Her father holding her arm tightly, they followed Julio through the house, aglow with autumn sunshine pouring through the beautiful intricate skylights, until they reached the orangery.
The orangery was one of Sophie’s favourite rooms and she’d been delighted when Javier had suggested they marry in it. More a giant conservatory than anything else, when its doors and windows were open the most wonderful scents from the garden filled it.
She’d not allowed her expectations of what the orangery would be transformed into for this day run away with her but neither had she allowed herself to think about stepping into it and wanting to burst into tears.
The only difference in the orangery was that an oak desk had been placed in the centre with a handful of chairs facing it, presumably for her parents and their witnesses, Julio and his partner, to sit on.
There were no flowers, no balloons, nothing to indicate what an important event this was.
She took it all in slowly with a heart that wanted to smash out of her chest.
If she’d realised that there was to be no effort whatsoever she would never have worn this dress. She would have worn a pair of jeans and trainers.
A quick and functional ceremony was one thing but this...
This was humiliating.
She felt like an imposter, she realised with a wrench. The wrong bride.
Freya, whom in a fit of guilt Sophie had messaged that morning confessing her pregnancy and warning of their marriage, knowing when the press discovered it they would start hounding her and Benjamin all again, was supposed to have stood there.
The man who waited for her, his back currently turned to her—no change there—as he spoke to the rotund officiant, would never have made the choice to marry Sophie if it weren’t for the baby.
She wouldn’t want to marry him if it were not for the baby either, she reminded herself. Her body still yearned for him but her pounding heart would never yearn for him again. Her heart had learned its lesson, and thank God it had because this would have broken it.
The only effort he’d made was to don a suit. An ordinary suit. The kind of suit he wore every day for work.
And then he turned around and his eyes met hers.
The pounding of her heart became a thrum that vibrated through to her bones.
* * *
Javier’s mouth had run dry.
He stared at Sophie, hardly able to believe what his eyes were showing him.
He’d never imagined she would wear a traditional wedding dress.
He’d never imagined she could look so beautiful or that his heart would thump so hard the beats could be heard by anyone who listened.
White lace skimmed across her collarbones, forming long fitted sleeves to her wrists, the long lace-wrapped silk dress itself hugging her figure like a caress.
She didn’t look pregnant. She looked like a curvaceous nymph and as ravishing a sight as he had ever seen.
He inhaled deeply as he tried to get his thoughts in order.
But she had blown him away.
Pale blue eyes shone back at him.
Suddenly he realised why they were shining. They brimmed full of unshed tears.
That knowledge brought him back to his senses.
He inhaled deeply again, this time fighting anger.
Sophie had no reason to be upset. He’d explicitly told her the ceremony would be quick and functional. She’d chosen not to listen.
But then he watched her demeanour change. Her shoulders lifted and her neck elongated as she raised her chin and said, ‘Are we going to do this?’
He stared at her for a further brief moment before nodding.
Yes. It was time to marry this blindingly beautiful woman and give the full protection of his name and wealth to the growing life inside her.
They stood side by side in front of the officiant and, as the quick and functional ceremony began, the weight that had been compressing in his chest since he’d awoken sank lower into him.
For the first time since he’d cut Luis from his life he felt his absence.
He’d never thought he would marry without his brother beside him.
And he’d never thought he would marry with a maelstrom of feelings erupting in him strong enough to knock him off his feet.
He almost choked his vows out.
By contrast, Sophie’s Spanish was flawless and her sultry voice carried clearly. He pressed his palms against his thighs to prevent them reaching for her until it was time to exchange rings.
She held her hand out to him.
He took a deep breath and took it into his own.
Her hand was delicate. The nails on the elegant fingers were smooth and polished, the skin soft and dewy.
This time he was not quick enough to shake the stab of guilt away before it could plunge into him.
Sophie had made a huge effort for this occasion. Her actions had shown him more clearly than any words could that this was a commitment she took seriously.
He slid the ring onto her finger knowing she deserved so much more than the man she was pledging herself to.
Then it was her turn to put the ring on his finger.
His father had never worn a wedding ring. For that reason alone, Javier would wear one.
She took his hand gently in hers and then, her eyes gazing right into his, pushed the cold metal over his knuckle.
Its weight hit him like a physical mark to his person.
He stared down at it.
Where for thirty-five years there had been nothing, a gold band now lay.
Her fingers tightened around his.
Suddenly he became aware of expectant eyes upon him. The officiant’s, Sophie’s parents’...
And Sophie herself. Except hers weren’t expectant, they were pleading.
He could read everything contained in those pale blue eyes that shone beautifully under the bright sun filtering through the glass roof.
For my parents’ sake, please kiss me, her eyes beseeched.
Kiss her?
She should be pleading with him to never touch her again.
The weight pressing down inside him increased, making it hard for him to draw breath.
He had to kiss her.
A kiss to seal their marriage and spare her humiliation was the least she deserved from him.
Tightening his fingers around hers as hers were clasped around his, he placed his other hand lightly against her waist and lowered his face to hers.
There was not a sound to be heard. Only the thrashing of his heart.
Holding his breath, he pressed his lips to her mouth.
The thrashing turned into a heavy thud.
The floor he stood upon began to sink beneath him and he had to dig deeply all the way from his toes to keep himself grounded and not sink with it, not give in to the nerve endings all straining to her.
He counted to five, then pulled away.
Then he made the mistake of looking at her.
That beautiful face, cheeks slashed with colour, eyes wide...
He forced air into his lungs.
Her perfume fell in with it.
He shuddered and, gritting his teeth, turned back to the officiant.
He had done his duty. Now it was time to sign the document that would confirm them legally as husband and wife.
CHAPTER SIX
SOPHIE EMBRACED HER father tightly, holding onto the wonderful feeling of safety that engulfed her for the last time.
This was a different goodbye from all the others they’d shared. Before, there had always been the knowledge that Sophie would return, not necessarily to her parents’ home but to England, somewhere close enough that their lives would entwine again.
Living in Madrid as she intended to do for at least the next eighteen years, that would not be possible.
Then she embraced her mother and squeezed her even harder.
Without these dear, loving people taking her into their hearts and their home, who knew how her life would have turned out? She owed them everything.
And then they were gone, bursting with happiness for their only child, their blinkers well and truly switched on, seeing exactly what they wanted to see, as they had always done and as Sophie had always enabled.
They had watched her perform hundreds of times, blissfully unaware that her heart had yearned to be elsewhere.
Now they had seen her marry a fabulously wealthy man, seen the home she would raise their grandchild in, and that had been enough for them to leave with contented hearts.
If either thought it strange that neither had had the nerve to embrace their new son-in-law, their faces hadn’t shown it.
Sophie turned her head.
Javier was leaning against his giant sphinx artefact, his arms loosely crossed over his stomach. He’d removed his jacket and tie during the horrendously awkward meal they’d shared with her parents. The meal hadn’t been pre-planned. He’d snapped his fingers and ordered it to be done after they’d exchanged their vows and before Sophie had had the humiliation of telling her parents the celebrations they expected were not happening. A bottle of champagne had been produced, the first alcoholic drink served since Sophie had moved in. Javier had stuck to the same sparkling grape juice that she’d consumed.
Sophie thought hard, trying to remember if he’d drunk alcohol in front of her at all, but came up blank. Was he being considerate of her pregnant state?
Somehow she could not believe that to be the reason. Javier would not make a concession like that when he barely knew what the word ‘concession’ meant and refused point-blank to learn it.
But he had arranged the meal and raised a toast to his bride, all for her parents’ benefit.
Maybe he did have a conscience in that steel heart of his.
She sighed. ‘I’m going to have a bath and go to bed.’
He nodded but made no verbal answer.
She wished she could read him but he was impossible to interpret. She had never known anyone so capable of keeping their thoughts and emotions hidden.
Did he even have emotions? That was something she was beginning to doubt.
But she thought she’d seen something in his eyes when he’d given her that fleeting kiss right after they’d exchanged their wedding rings.
He hadn’t touched her since, not even an accidental brush of his arm to hers.
She ran the bath and added a good dollop of scented bubble bath to it, watching the foam develop in the swirling water, determined not to cry.
When it had filled sufficiently, she walked back through the bedroom to the dressing room and armed herself with a pair of pyjamas, her oldest, most comfortable pair. Javier wouldn’t care that they were as sexy as a clown’s outfit. She’d worn her prettiest nightdresses all week and he hadn’t even cared to look at her in them.
She was about to step back into the bathroom when a vibrating sound caught her attention and a quick look found her phone on the bedroom table. A member of the staff must have put it there. She’d forgotten all about it, not having used it since at the hotel with her parents that morning.
She turned it on to find three returned messages from Freya.
She read the first.
What? Sophie, you CANNOT marry Javier. He will eat you alive. Come to France. We’ll take care of you and the baby.
The second:
Call me.
Then the third—the one she’d heard vibrate a moment ago.
It’s never too late. Please, Sophie, for your baby’s sake, take your passport and run. If you cannot escape then just say the word and we will rescue you.
Sophie read the messages with unfamiliar anger swelling inside her.
She fired a message back.
I don’t need rescuing. Javier is the father of my child. I’ve married him.
Less than a minute later came the reply.
You don’t know what he’s capable of. He destroyed Benjamin and they’d been friends since they were babies. His own twin has disowned him. He is unfit to be a father. He’s dangerous. He will destroy you and your baby. Let us help you.
‘You look worried.’
Sophie screamed and jumped.
She had no idea how a man as large as Javier could tread so quietly that she hadn’t heard him enter the bedroom.
She backed against the wall and pressed the phone to her chest, an automatic action, which caused him to narrow his eyes.
‘Something I should know about?’ he asked when the only sound coming from her was ragged breaths.
She wanted to smile and say there was nothing wrong but knew her scarlet cheeks would betray the lie.
He treaded slowly towards her with his hand extended. ‘Give me the phone.’
She shook her head and whispered, ‘You don’t need to see this.’
He really did not need to see those messages.
‘I will be the judge of that.’
He stood before her, the expression in his eyes clearly stating she would be going nowhere until she gave him her phone.
She dropped it into his hand, her heart dropping to her feet with it. If she didn’t let him read them it would fester in him. He might make assumptions that were even worse.
They needed to build trust between them, which meant openness and honesty.
But she wished he wouldn’t read them.
By no stretch of the imagination could Javier be described as an angel but those were messages no one should have to read about themselves.
He scrolled through them, emotionless.
After an age had passed he looked back at her, a pulse throbbing in his temples. ‘Do you believe yourself to be in danger from me?’
She didn’t have to think twice about her answer. ‘No.’
He was dangerous, that she did believe. Javier was a man you crossed at your peril. Cross him and he would strike back twice as hard with all the force at his disposal.
His chest rose as he breathed deeply. ‘Maybe you should believe it.’
‘And maybe you should trust that if I thought you were a danger to me or our child I would never have exchanged vows with you. I would have kept our baby a secret from you.’
Silence stretched between them and with it a tension, there in the air they breathed, thickening as it wrapped its tentacles around them.
The intensity of his stare upon her, the swirling shapes forming and darkening the light of his eyes...
She had never seen it before. Not even when he’d leaned in to kiss her...
Low in her belly a heat began to grow. It spread into her veins and down into her bones, then pulsed to cover her skin with warm, darting tingles.
His breathing deepened visibly but still he didn’t speak, his jaw clenched too tightly for words.
The ache she carried with her intensified and suddenly Sophie knew, as she knew he would never hurt h
er, that he would never make the first move to touch her. She didn’t know why but she knew it to be true.
If she wanted their marriage to be a true one and not a piece of paper she had to be the one to instigate it.
Gathering all her courage, she slowly turned her back to him and tried to breathe through the thuds of her heart. ‘Could you undo my dress for me, please?’
There was a long pause.
‘Please? I can’t reach.’
She closed her eyes and held her breath.
The hairs on the nape of her neck lifted and her skin warmed as he stepped to her.
At the first touch of his fingers to her spine the breath she’d been holding escaped.
Javier fought to keep his mind detached from what his fingers were doing.
He found the top button, a tiny, delicate creation, and, careful not to touch her milky skin, undid it.
Then he unbuttoned the one below and the one below that, not allowing even a breath of air into his lungs as he worked.
When he reached the final button at the base of her spine, he stepped back and cleared his throat. ‘You’re done.’
Was that his voice sounding so thick?
‘Thank you,’ she murmured.
About to make his excuses and leave the room, she turned back around and faced him.
Her eyes were a darker shade of blue than he had ever seen.
The lump that he’d only just cleared from his throat returned.
Her eyes not leaving his, she took the top of one lace sleeve between her fingers and slowly slid it down her arm, then did the same with the other.
When both arms were free, she pulled the dress down to her waist, pinched a hidden zipper at the side and pulled that down too, then let the dress fall to her feet.
Javier tried to force his feet to move, to leave this room and all the danger charging in the electricity Sophie was creating, but they refused to obey.
And now she straightened, those beautiful eyes still on him, not a single word uttered from the rosebud lips, wearing only a lacy white bra and matching knickers, and the most incredible high, lace-covered white shoes.
His mouth ran dry.
Suddenly he no longer fought his feet to move. Now he was fighting his heart’s erratic rhythm and his fingers’ itchy determination to touch the silky white skin.
Billionaire's Baby of Redemption Page 7
