Billionaire's Baby of Redemption

by Michelle Smart

  Because whatever fever had him in its grip, it was in Sophie too, there in the hunger of her kisses and the urgency of her touch.

  He wanted to feel every part of her, to give this woman who sang to his heart all the passion and love that had broken free from its casing for her.

  He opened his ears to her sighs and let them seep into his senses and then he opened all his senses to her.

  He was helpless to do anything else.

  And she opened her senses to him.

  Her fingers traced lightly over his chest, exploring him, her mouth following, her nose brushing over his skin to breathe him in, touching him in a way he had never been touched before.

  Every breath of her mouth to his flesh seeped deep inside him to the bones that lay beneath.

  He brushed his lips over every part of her too. He inhaled the scent of her skin so deeply that it became a part of him. He kissed her breasts and felt their weight in his hands. He ran his fingers over her belly, a distant part of him awed at what lay inside it but only a distant part because this moment was not about their child, this moment was for her, for him, for them.

  When he inhaled the musky heat between her legs, he almost lost himself entirely.

  How had he blocked it out so well before and for so long?

  It was a scent he would remember for the rest of his life.

  If he could love any woman it would be this one, he thought dimly, pressing a kiss to her hip before pushing himself back up to stare into the pale blue eyes once more.

  Sophie gazed into the eyes staring at her with such hunger and felt every part of her expand and contract.

  She pressed a hand to his face. He rubbed his cheek against it and kissed her palm. And then he kissed her mouth with such possessiveness that her heart bloomed.

  Every part of her bloomed.

  Her skin was alive from the flames of his touch, everything heated, scorched, her veins lava...and that was lava reflecting back at her in the depth of his stare and she realised that for the first time she was staring right into the heart of this man she loved so much.

  The sense of detachment that had always been there...gone.

  This was Javier as she had dreamed, touching her and making love to her as if she were the most revered thing in his life, holding her so close their skin could become one and their hearts unite.

  His eyes stayed open, boring into her when he entered and...

  Oh, the sensation that erupted within her...

  This was everything. Everything.

  Javier had no recall of entering her; found himself buried deep inside Sophie with her arms locked around him and his hands resting against her cheeks.

  The expression reflecting back at him as he made love to her, the wonder, the tenderness...

  The void he’d fought against for so long welcomed him into its depths.

  He submitted to it.

  * * *

  Javier woke with a start, opening his eyes to the darkness.

  Sophie was draped over him, the delicious weight of her thigh hooked over his, her arm locked around his waist.

  His heart pounded, his guts felt as if he’d been punched and for a moment it was as if he’d forgotten how to breathe.

  What the hell had he done?

  He’d lost all control of himself.

  With Sophie.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and fought to inhale.

  His movement must have disturbed her for she shifted, pressing herself closer to him; as if it was even possible for her to get any closer.

  She could. She did.

  He didn’t know if she was fully awake when her lips brushed against his neck and she rolled on top of him, her cheek pressed to his, her silky hair falling softly onto his face, or if she was in the midst of a dream.

  It felt as if he were in a dream of his own when she sank onto his hardness, a dream that had him holding her tightly, possessively, while deep in the back of his mind came the thought that if anything happened to this woman he would want to die.

  * * *

  Sophie stretched a leg out and smiled before she’d even opened her eyes.

  This was the start of a new day that would mark the beginning of her new life.

  This was the day that marked the true start of her marriage.

  The breakthrough she had so longed for had finally been reached. Javier had opened himself up to her and then he had made love to her. Truly made love to her, with his heart and his mind as well as his body.

  She still wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would be plain sailing from here on in, but what they had found together under these sheets and the connection that embraced them tightly together...

  She opened her eyes and her heart sank as if it had a weight attached to it to find the empty space between them.

  Javier had moved to the edge of the bed, his back to her.

  It wasn’t his mesmerising face she was greeted with after the best night of her life but his cold shoulder.

  She blew a puff of air out and told herself to put a curb on her imagination.

  He’d rolled over? He’d probably been uncomfortable. He probably hadn’t even done it consciously.

  But that was a huge distance. To reach him she would have to stretch a hand out...

  Before she had the chance to do so, he suddenly pushed the sheets off and climbed out of bed.

  He strolled to the bathroom and shut the door without looking at her.

  Disturbed but telling herself she was being silly, trying her hardest not to make a big deal out of something she didn’t even know what, Sophie hurried to the dressing room and threw on an oversized T-shirt and a pair of leggings.

  She needed to act normal.

  Before she could leave the bedroom, he appeared from the bathroom, a towel around his waist.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said brightly.

  She was answered with a grunt.

  ‘I’m going to check on Frodo. Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘I’ll get one when I come down.’

  ‘Okay... Is everything all right?’

  He cast her a quick glance. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’

  She shrugged, not knowing how to answer, and backed out of the room.

  Frodo was asleep at the bottom of the stairs. He woke up at her footsteps and wagged his tail excitedly to see her.

  At least someone was happy to see her, she thought unhappily, scooping him up.

  Javier was being...well, he was being exactly how he always was first thing in the morning: moody and distant.

  He wasn’t a morning person.

  She’d try to add an extra sugar to his coffee to sweeten him up, she decided, brushing away the anxiety now gnawing in her belly.

  She found Marsela laying out the breakfast stuff in the dining room and thanked her for looking after Frodo. ‘I’ll sort some money out for you when I go back up to get changed,’ she promised.

  Marsela looked positively affronted. ‘I don’t want your money. It was my pleasure to look after him.’

  On impulse, Sophie planted a kiss to the sweet Spanish woman’s cheek, the exact moment Javier came into the dining room.

  Marsela hurried out.

  He took a seat at the table and swiped at his phone. ‘You are too familiar with the staff,’ he said, not looking at her.

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She sat opposite him and put Frodo down at her feet. ‘Marsela’s my age. I like her. If I want to be friends with her then I shall.’

  His jaw clenched but he said nothing further.

  Breakfast was brought in and placed between them.

  ‘I was thinking of taking Frodo for a walk in the park later. Do you want to come?’

  ‘I’m going to the office.’ />
  She tried to cover her disappointment. ‘On a Saturday?’

  ‘I have much to organise before my trip to Cape Town.’

  ‘That’s not for another week,’ she pointed out.

  ‘I’m looking to bring it forward.’

  ‘Any reason?’

  ‘To get things moving quicker.’

  ‘We’ve got the scan on Wednesday,’ she reminded him. He hadn’t promised he would be there, only promised that he would try. She had wanted to push it but had held back.

  If this had been a conversation held an hour ago she would have pushed it, secure in the cocoon of passion they had created together.

  ‘If I can come then I will come,’ he answered shortly.

  She was bewildered at the change in him.

  The cold, emotionless man was back with a vengeance.

  He drank his coffee and got to his feet.

  ‘You’re going to the office now?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll let you know if I’m not going to make it back for dinner.’

  Stunned and hurt at the indifference being displayed, she watched him walk out before suddenly calling out to him. ‘Javier.’

  ‘What?’

  She almost recoiled to see the coldness in his eyes.

  ‘Last night...’ But she couldn’t say anything more. Her throat had closed up.

  ‘What about it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  He left without saying goodbye.

  * * *

  Sophie was grateful to have Frodo as a distraction. Although still small, he was unrecognisable as the damaged puppy she had found on the kerb. Playful and loving, he had a marvellous time playing in the park with the other dogs and Sophie soon found other owners to talk with. For the first time, a complete stranger asked her if she was pregnant.

  The thickening around her waist was turning into a small but recognisable swell, more pronounced on her petite frame than it would otherwise be. She was barely halfway through the pregnancy. There was still a long way to go.

  But she had experienced flutterings in recent weeks, real, unmistakable signs that the baby inside her was growing strongly, that it was a baby in there.

  On the short walk back to the house, she bought a newspaper from a vendor she passed. Javier would laugh at her for absorbing the news the old-fashioned way but she much preferred to read it in paper format than through a screen.

  Reading the paper would be another good distraction. She no longer had to avoid the news, the Javier-Freya-Benjamin saga relegated to history.

  Except it wasn’t.

  Her insides twisted with pain for her husband.

  Page nine contained a half-page story on the marriage of Luis Casillas and Chloe Guillem.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JAVIER ARRIVED BACK LATE. It was too much to expect Sophie to be asleep but still he hoped.

  He worked out for an hour in his gym to increase his chances and showered in the adjoining wet room.

  The hurt he’d seen in her eyes had cut him in two.

  Last night had been a terrible mistake and it was down to him to put their marriage on the footing it had originally been, for Sophie’s sake even if she had trouble understanding it.

  One day she would thank him for it.

  It was with no surprise that he found her sitting on the bed, not even pretending to read or be doing anything that indicated she hadn’t been waiting up for him.

  She was still dressed.

  He should be relieved. He’d half expected to find her dressed in lingerie, intent on seducing him.

  Thuds of dread battered in him.

  ‘How was your walk?’ he asked, needing to cut through the strange, tense atmosphere he’d walked into.

  ‘Fun.’ She gave a half-smile. ‘How was your day?’

  ‘Long.’

  ‘You’re tired?’

  ‘Exhausted.’ Yet still wired. Electricity charged through the room but the buzz he felt on his skin was different from the usual charge he felt when with her and which he always tried valiantly to ignore.

  ‘Javier... Have you seen the newspaper reports?’

  ‘About Luis getting married?’

  She nodded. ‘You have seen them, then.’

  ‘Dante mentioned it last night.’

  There was sympathy in her narrowed stare he did not want to see.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Why would I have done?’

  He hated the flash of hurt that rang back in her eyes.

  ‘Because I’m your wife.’

  ‘It isn’t important.’

  ‘What isn’t? Luis getting married or that I’m your wife?’

  His jaw clenched in the way that told Sophie he wouldn’t answer.

  He really was shutting her out.

  ‘Did you rearrange your trip to Cape Town?’

  He jerked a nod.

  ‘And?’

  ‘I leave on Tuesday.’

  The swirl of nausea in her stomach was so powerful Sophie almost vomited from it.

  She swallowed a number of times before saying, ‘You’re not coming to the scan, then?’

  ‘No.’

  Breathing deeply, she put her head in her hands before looking back at him. ‘Was that deliberate?’

  His jaw clenched again.

  ‘We made love last night,’ she whispered.

  The pulse on his jaw throbbed.

  ‘We did,’ she stated in a stronger voice, in case he was inclined to deny it.

  She would not have him deny it.

  ‘We made love and it was wonderful. You said things to me I never thought I would hear. I thought we’d turned a corner. Was I wrong? Because today you have treated me like I mean nothing to you and I need to know if it’s a case of you pushing me away because you’re struggling with your feelings for me and have been trying to process them or if it’s because you have no feelings for me.’

  His breaths had become heavy. ‘My feelings for you are...complicated.’

  That wasn’t a denial of feelings, she thought, experiencing a tiny surge of encouragement. ‘How?’

  ‘Last night... I could have hurt you.’

  ‘But you didn’t. You made love to me.’

  He grabbed the back of his neck, the lips that had kissed her with such tenderness and passion pulling together. ‘There is something inside me that’s dangerous.’

  ‘You said that last night.’

  ‘And it’s true. It has always been in me. I spend my life fighting it.’

  ‘Has it beaten you before?’

  His eyes found hers. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Some boys. When I was fourteen. They followed me and Luis home from school and made some comment about our mother. It was a bad day as it would have been our mother’s birthday. I beat the crap out of them. One of them was hospitalised with a concussion.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘No.’ His eyes gleamed with malice. ‘I have wanted to though.’

  ‘But you haven’t.’

  ‘Only because I keep tight control over it. I keep emotion out of my life. Last night should never have happened. My emotions got the better of me. It will not happen again.’

  ‘Emotions aren’t dangerous.’

  ‘They are for me.’ The malice vanished. ‘Every time I look in a mirror I see the truth. I am my father’s son and my father was ruled by emotions.’

  ‘But you are not your father. You look a little like him...’

  ‘I am his double.’

  She shrugged. ‘Not that I can see. But even if you are, you can’t help who or what you look like. I haven’t got the faintest idea who I look like or whose blood runs in my veins.’

 
‘Then you have no legacy to live up to or break free from.’

  ‘I have nothing to hide behind.’

  His hooded stare narrowed. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  She swallowed again before summoning her courage to say, ‘I think you’re using your father as an excuse to keep me at a distance.’

  The rage that flashed in his eyes almost made her wish she’d kept her mouth shut.

  ‘My father killed my mother,’ Javier snarled.

  Dios, how could she think that? As if he would ever use the bastard who had given him life as an excuse for anything.

  ‘He put his hands around her throat and strangled her until she had no breath left in her. I spent my childhood trying to protect Luis from the worst of himself because my father despised him and needed no excuse to beat him—he threatened to throw him into a pool and let him drown once and he damned well meant it. My father loved only one person—me, but only because I looked so much like him. The genetic pool favoured me to him. He would rub my hair and tell me I was just like him.’

  Every time his father had done that Javier had cringed inside but also, to his eternal shame, thrilled in it.

  He’d thrilled at being loved by the man who’d caused such terror to his brother.

  He’d hated his father with every fibre of his being.

  But he had loved him too.

  What had scared him the most was that his father’s assertions were right. That Javier was just like him, on the inside as well as on the surface.

  ‘He recognised something in me and my mother saw it too,’ he continued. ‘I know she did and if you looked closely enough you would see it too.’

  He drew long breaths in as he stared at the woman he would give his last breath to protect.

  She blinked rapidly, her chin wobbling, throat moving.

  ‘I have looked closely,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t see it.’

  ‘Then you are a blind fool and I will not endanger you or our child by allowing what occurred between us last night to happen again.’

  ‘Meaning that you intend to keep me at a distance?’

  ‘Meaning our marriage will continue as we first set out.’

  She rubbed her eyes with both hands and took a deep breath before fixing pain-filled eyes on him. ‘I was afraid you would say that. I’ve spent the day thinking about what it would mean and trying to work out if it’s something I can live with and I’m sorry but I can’t. Not any more. I’ve tried. I think you have too. But it’s not enough.’