Martinez's Pregnant Wife

by Rachael Thomas

  For him that was true, but she couldn’t say that now. If she did she’d be admitting she’d had feelings for him, deep feelings of love that she knew he could never return. It was that realisation as she’d watched him get dressed that morning after their night together that had made her see that. It had only ever been about passion—or was it merely lust? Whatever it was, love had never entered into it for him. She had just become another of his deals, his challenges to master and command.

  In total contrast to everything she wanted to feel, her body heated with something distinctly like lust as he moved very close to her, his dark eyes full of unveiled desire. Her heart almost stopped beating as he reached out and lifted her chin slightly with his thumb and finger. ‘I also think that passion still exists, that, however much you glare at me with sparks of anger in your sexy eyes, you want me as much as I want you.’

  Why was he doing this? Why was he torturing her so?

  ‘That’s absurd.’ It should have been a hot denial, but the husky undertone to her voice said far too much about the effect he was having on her. The light touch of his thumb and finger on her chin was pure torment but she couldn’t step back, couldn’t move away. She wanted him, wanted his touch that could lead to a kiss so powerful that it would render her unable to fight him at all.

  ‘Is it?’ His voice was far too sexy but she refused to give into the urge to close her eyes, to surrender to his touch, his will.

  ‘Of course it is.’ She’d wanted to snap the words out, to make it very clear how cross she was, how she hated what he was doing to her, the power he had over her, but they came out as a ragged whisper.

  ‘I disagree,’ he said softly. Too softly. ‘Passion is what brought us back together two months ago, Lisa, and it’s what will keep us together.’

  He had that look in his eyes, that sexy come-to-bed look that she’d never been able to resist but this time she would. This time, she wouldn’t fall for it or him and she most certainly wouldn’t be falling into his bed.

  ‘No way.’ She stepped back from him, noticing for the first time that the apartment was now much darker, that the light outside had faded, creating a very different ambiance from the one she’d felt as she’d walked through the door of his apartment a few days ago.

  ‘No way, what, Lisa?’ he teased.

  ‘No way am I falling back into your bed—ever again.’

  To her horror he moved closer, closing the distance between them. His eyes were so dark, so heavy with desire and she couldn’t help the leap of need that jumped into life within her, defusing the anger she’d been harbouring all afternoon.

  ‘Are you quite certain about that?’ His husky voice and heavy accent left her in no doubt that passion and desire were fighting for supremacy within him too.

  ‘Yes.’ The whisper was barely audible, but he’d heard it and she wondered if he could hear her heart thumping too, hear the beat so loudly, calling to him.

  Max gathered her unresisting body against his, the masculine smell of his aftershave doing untold things to her senses, making her want him, want to be in his arms, to feel his lips on hers. But she had to resist, had to hold onto her control, her sanity.

  ‘Very sure.’ She pushed at his chest, trying hard to ignore the muscles beneath her palms. ‘Just as I am about the fact that by New Year’s Eve you will have tired of me, of being the expectant father and maybe even playing the role of diligent brother, which will leave me free to return to my life.’

  ‘So I have until New Year’s Eve to prove this theory of yours wrong?’ The velvet edge to his deep voice sent tremors of awareness over her and she fought to remain rigid and still as she glared at him angrily—although that anger was directed as much at herself as at him.

  ‘But you won’t prove anything, Max.’

  ‘Are you quite sure about that, Lisa?’

  She wanted to shout at him, to rail against the way her body even now wanted to feel his touch, his caress. Instead she stepped calmly away, accepting that distance was her only defence right now.

  ‘Absolutely sure.’

  He smiled. ‘Then I look forward to attending my brother’s wedding with my wife at my side.’

  ‘That will only be temporary. I know you don’t want to be married, much less a father.’

  ‘But we are married, Lisa. And I am going to be a father to my child. A proper father.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IF LISA HAD thought being in Madrid with Max at Christmas might soften his hard mood, she was quickly realising that was not the case. Since their arrival yesterday he’d been courteous yet as distant as a stranger. That last night in London he’d just been proving his power over her, proving that desire and passion still simmered between them—waiting.

  They had left their hotel early that morning and now Lisa found herself shivering against the unusually cold winter winds, in a much less salubrious area than that of the hotel. The kind of area she’d grown up in. Surely Raul Valdez, with all his millions, wasn’t getting married anywhere near here.

  ‘What are we here for?’ she asked tentatively, pulling the collar of her coat tighter around her neck.

  Max seemed impervious to the cold, his attention focused on the shabby apartment buildings and one in particular. ‘This is where my mother and I lived after we left Seville.’

  Lisa’s mind reeled. Max was a billionaire in his own right and his stepfather was well known in the world of football. She’d never for one moment considered that Max knew what it was like to live on the wrong side of town.

  ‘I never knew.’ Her voice was soft, full of thought as she looked around her, turning to see a football ground beyond. It was very different from the grounds of the clubs that Max invested in. ‘Did you start your football career here?’

  Finally, he turned to look at her and for the briefest of moments she thought she saw sadness in his eyes. Then he blinked and the usual, ever-present guard was back in place. The protection he always wore.

  ‘My mother moved us to Madrid soon after my father walked out. I thought at the time we were just making a new start, now I know she was hoping that, by being close to him, she could change his mind.’ His jaw clenched as he turned to look once more at the three-storey apartments. ‘And yes, I started playing football here seriously. It’s also where my mother met my stepfather, when she would stand on the sidelines cheering me on, trying to be the father figure I was lacking.’

  Lisa’s heart wrenched as she thought of the young boy he’d been. ‘Maybe your father did a good thing leaving you both to build a new life.’

  She was talking from her own experience, from the heartache of being stuck in the middle of warring parents, but the deep inhaled breath that prevented Max from saying anything warned her that was not what he thought at all.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She stumbled over her words. ‘I didn’t mean it like it sounded.’

  ‘We should go,’ he said and turned to walk back to the waiting car, the driver having kept the engine turning over.

  As the car negotiated the busy streets, past landmarks she longed to stop and see, Max sat coldly beside her and that coldness continued after they arrived at the wedding venue. There wasn’t even the smallest amount of tenderness from him, not this morning when her pregnancy had left her nauseous and he’d rushed her out early, and definitely not now as she stood waiting, the cold making her shiver again. Or was it the revelations of this morning? Either way, nobody could have ever guessed they were a married couple, least of all the few assembled guests awaiting the arrival of Lydia, Raul’s bride.

  Lisa pulled the softness of her black coat around herself and tried to focus on what was going on around her. Expectation hung in the air of the old town hall as the few assembled guests awaited the arrival of the bride. She glanced at Max as he sat at her side and then at Raul, who waited calmly for Lydia’s arrival. Had Max been as calm the day they’d married?

  The sun had shone that day and she’d thought she was the luckiest
woman on earth. She was so in love, so full of the promise of her happy ever after, yet within a few months all that had crumbled away with Max’s admission that he couldn’t love her.

  Lisa pushed the memories aside as her doubts began to build, increasing to such a level she could barely sit still. Why was she even here? As the thought careered around in her mind like an out-of-control horse, the bride made her entrance. Lisa had always loved attending weddings, loved to admire the bride, but this time her focus was on the groom. Although she’d met him briefly after that first meeting, she hadn’t been feeling well. He was so like Max they could be twins, not mere half-brothers.

  It was the love in Raul’s eyes as he watched his bride come nearer that had her so transfixed she could scarcely breathe. There was no doubt that he loved her—completely and utterly. The smile on his lips held a secret message, known only to the bride and groom. Her heart ached and began to crack into pieces. Max had never looked at her like that and certainly not on their wedding day. He’d never shown any sign of love because he couldn’t.

  ‘I can’t love you, Lisa. I can’t love anyone.’

  The words he’d cruelly delivered just months after they’d exchanged vows still cut deep. She’d been so in love with him, so sure he’d come to love her, she’d clung to the hope, like a thirsty woman in the middle of the desert, that one day he’d love her as she did him. That had never happened. To him it had been only lust. Nothing more than undeniable passion, which had blazed between them since they’d first met.

  She moved, physically shivering as the icy memories invaded the present, desperate not to allow her emotions to get the better of her, but in doing so she brushed against Max. He stiffened instantly beside her and she risked a quick glance at him. His profile was stern, his focus on his brother as Lydia joined him. Then he looked at her and the steel in his eyes turned her and her battered heart to stone.

  ‘I would never have guessed.’ His whispered words held a feral edge, as if he were a wild animal afraid he’d be cornered at any moment. She knew exactly what he meant. She’d seen the love there, the very emotion he couldn’t feel, couldn’t give.

  ‘That they could be so in love?’ She goaded him, wanting some kind of emotion from him. Even anger was better than this distant, cool reserve.

  The sound of his breath being sucked in made a few heads turn their way, but the fierce connection his eyes had made with hers was too strong to break. ‘That the might of Raul Valdez would be so weak. He must be doing what is expected. Going through the motions.’

  ‘Faking it?’ Her gasped whisper once again made heads turn their way, but she wasn’t going to let this go now. Not when she was finally getting somewhere, finally able to talk about the emotions that had made him marry her, then walk away. ‘Like you did?’

  ‘Sí.’ His eyes hardened, challenging her to say more, and she wished they were alone, that they were anywhere else. But this was Raul and Lydia’s day and she wasn’t going to spoil it and, damn him, he knew it too. She glared back at him, matching his challenge, his anger. She held his gaze for several long seconds, then turned without a word and focused once more on the bride and groom.

  Raul was the epitome of command as he stood, resplendent in a black suit worn with a pale blue tie, and even though it was Max who had stolen her heart she had to admit his brother was strikingly handsome. Lydia wore a white cape, the hood trimmed with fur, over her wedding dress, looking every bit the winter fairy-tale bride.

  Lisa watched stoically as they exchanged their vows, their rings and then kissed one another. They didn’t take their eyes from each other as they stayed locked in their world of love.

  Max had done all that with her. The vows, the rings exchanged, the look and then the kiss, but none of it had been for real, none of it had been love. She clamped her teeth together against the threat of tears, cursing the pregnancy hormones that seemed to make crying her default emotion right now. No, she would not cry. She would never let Max know how much he’d hurt her—or that she cared.

  She kept up that pretence as the guests assembled for the wedding breakfast, hardly daring to look at how happy and radiant the bride looked. It was hard to believe she was the same woman Lisa had seen leaving the restaurant in London so hurriedly just a few days ago. Did that mean there was hope for her and Max? That they could put aside their differences and fall in love again?

  Again? Who was she kidding? Max had never loved her. That was the one difference. Raul had obviously loved Lydia despite the fallout that must have happened, probably all due to the stress of discovering and meeting his brother.

  Beside her, she felt Max inhale deeply as an older woman talked with Raul, looking at them, and then she walked toward them. Instantly on alert, Lisa guessed this must be Raul’s mother, the woman his father had left Max and his mother to be with all those years ago. As she tried to process this, the woman spoke to Max in Spanish and, judging from his curt and brief response, it wasn’t good.

  She risked a glance at Max to see his jaw was set in that stubborn way she knew only too well and she wished she understood what the woman had said, and if it was even Raul’s mother.

  Then the older woman looked at Lisa and spoke in heavily accented English. ‘I am happy that my son has found love, but it is strange, is it not, that both the Valdez sons have taken an English bride?’

  Her voice was warm, friendly. She wasn’t merely making a comment, it was accepting Max, a way to bridge the gap between them. She didn’t have to do that. It must be the hardest thing to face the son of your husband’s mistress. Lisa smiled at her, but she could feel Max’s anger, feel him bristle with indignation. She didn’t need to look at him to know that.

  ‘I am not a Valdez.’ Max’s response was harsh and razor sharp.

  Raul’s mother looked at him and continued in her accented English, obviously wanting Lisa to understand. ‘You may not like to admit it, but you are. More than you will ever know.’

  ‘I think not.’ The growled response was fierce, full of denial.

  ‘You are, Max. There is no doubt that you are Maximiliano’s son and it is far more than good looks which makes me say this.’ Raul’s mother looked into his eyes and Lisa could see her expression soften. This was a woman who didn’t blame him, didn’t hate him and was extending the hand of friendship. Maybe she knew he’d lost his mother as a teenager and all too soon after losing his father.

  Further thoughts were cast aside as Max cursed in Spanish. ‘I have no wish to be like my father.’

  Raul’s mother turned and looked back at her son and Lisa wondered how this was all really affecting her. Then she turned her attention back to Max and touched him gently on the arm. Max looked down at her hand, a stark contrast to charcoal grey of his suit. She saw Max swallow, as if he was trying to gulp down the pain of the past, and Lisa realised she knew very little of it—just as he knew very little of her.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she spoke in a hushed tone, but still in English. ‘There is no denying you are his son, just as there is no denying you are Raul’s brother. Don’t run from the truth, Max, face it. Own it. Make it your friend, not your enemy.’

  Lisa frowned. What was this woman talking about?

  ‘Thank you for your advice, signora. I will give it some thought, but right now my wife and I need to leave.’

  ‘We do?’ Lisa sensed there was more to this conversation if only he’d participate in it, but she also knew Max and pushing him to do anything he didn’t want to do was useless.

  He put his arm around Lisa in a show of affection she knew wasn’t real, pulling her close, and that instant spark of heat surged through her, much to her annoyance. ‘We are returning to England for Christmas.’

  ‘How romantic.’ Raul’s mother smiled at her. ‘It looks like you don’t need my advice after all.’

  Lisa hid her confusion behind a bright smile of her own. What was he talking about? Christmas in England? With Max?

&nb
sp; * * *

  Max looked at Raul’s mother, questioning if the genuine warmth in her voice and soft brown eyes was really directed at him—her husband’s secret love child. A stab of something approaching jealousy pierced him as he thought of his own mother, her unhappiness after his father, this woman’s husband, had left. He recalled the defeat in everything she’d done since that day. Even though she’d found a gentle and loving man in his stepfather, she’d never had the will to properly fight her cancer and by the time Angelina had brought a smile back to her face, it was too late to win that particular battle.

  Life had been cruel and hard for his mother. When her cancer diagnosis had been confirmed she was pregnant and her choice at that time was to delay treatment and save the baby. She only got to spend a few years with her new daughter. Max hated the memories from those dark days. He’d ignored his sister once he’d been told the full truth of her illness, but his mother had talked him round, made him see it had been her choice and then extracted his promise to look after Angelina. He was now her fiercest protector, although he knew she thought of him as nothing more than a tyrant big brother. At least it didn’t involve emotions that way.

  He refocused his mind, determined not to get sidetracked by the past. ‘Lisa and I spent last Christmas in the sunshine for our honeymoon. I intend to give Lisa the Christmas she has always dreamed of.’

  ‘Very romantic.’ Raul’s mother smiled at Lisa and he felt her body freeze next to him, as if the hardest frost of the winter had descended. Lisa obviously had no intention of being romantic with him, but would his planned surprise soften her? Would it show her he could play the role of dutiful husband and protective father without the need for love to complicate it all?

  ‘It will be fun, if not romantic,’ Lisa said resolutely, looking anywhere but at him. She might have missed Raul’s mother’s frown, but he didn’t. Life had taught him to look beyond mere words, to look for more in a person’s actions. It was the only way to safeguard himself and those around him from dangerous emotions that only caused upset and pain. The kind of emotions he would never expose himself to again.