Married By Christmas Bundle: Anthology

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘No…perhaps it isn’t formal, but it still looks expensive and classy. Whereas what I’m wearing definitely doesn’t! Perhaps we ought to just go for a burger somewhere? I don’t want to embarrass you.’

  She was wearing denim jeans, boots, a bottle-green polo-necked sweater and the slightly oversized tweed coat she’d had on yesterday. Very little make-up adorned her features, and she looked fresh-faced, young and beautiful. Why she imagined he would be remotely embarrassed to be seen with her appearing as she was Cristiano could not begin to fathom. He did not like the sense that her parents’ emotional neglect of her—as well as his cousin’s abandonment—had made such a harsh dent in her self-esteem.

  ‘That is an entirely ridiculous notion, Dominique! You look perfectly acceptable to me. All I want you to do is enjoy the food and hopefully the company too.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Put your worries aside for a while.’

  ‘And they won’t mind at the restaurant if I feed the baby while I’m there?’

  ‘You are feeding her yourself?’ For a moment Cristiano sensed an intense tingling heat throb low in his stomach at the idea of Dominique breastfeeding, and he was furious with himself for feeling aroused when it was the most natural thing in the world for a mother to feed her baby that way. He noticed the colour in her cheeks bloomed even pinker at his question.

  ‘No. I tried to feed her myself but I had to give up in the end. I wasn’t very good at it.’

  ‘But she takes a bottle quite happily?’

  Dominique nodded.

  ‘Then where is the problem? As long as she is able to take nourishment that is the main thing, is it not?’

  Glancing towards the lake, Cristiano threw a handful of bread in the direction of a rather dejected-looking duck that was isolated from the rest, He shivered as a particularly icy breeze seared into his face just then. As pleasurable as this little outing with Dominique and the baby was, he was seriously missing the far friendlier climes of his own country. He was also concerned that it was too much for the child to be out in such hostile weather.

  ‘We should go now,’ he announced, swiping the remainder of the crumbs from his leather gloves. ‘It is really far too bitter for Matilde. We should get her inside into the warmth.’

  ‘You’re probably right. Say bye-bye to the birds, Tilly! We’ll come and visit them again another day.’

  Rising to her feet, Dominique gave Cristiano a fleeting smile, and as she turned the pushchair round and started back up the path that had led them to the lake he automatically put his hand at her back, as if to guide and protect her…

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WAS going to be the last night Dominique spent in her bedsit for a while—at least until after Christmas, and maybe longer than that if she decided to take the monumental step of settling in Spain. She’d had a farewell drink with a couple of close friends, and Katie from across the landing, and now all she had to do was finish her packing. Thankfully Matilde was being an absolute angel and sleeping peacefully—tired out, Dominique was sure, from being cuddled and petted by the three girls who’d dropped in to say goodbye to them.

  Tomorrow was the big day. She and Matilde were flying out to Madrid with Cristiano, and when they arrived his personal driver was going to meet them and transport them the seventy kilometres to the town where he lived. The thought was exciting, but somewhat overwhelming too. Cristiano kept telling her not to be daunted—that everything would work out perfectly—but Dominique could not help fearing it might not, and then where would she be? Back in this too-small bedsit with a growing infant and barely enough money coming in to make ends meet.

  Pausing as she turned to the half-filled suitcase she’d hefted onto the foldaway bed that doubled up as a couch during the day, Dominique sighed heavily as she gazed critically round her. As optimistic as she’d tried to be when she’d first set eyes on the place, she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit the rundown décor and general living conditions weren’t depressing. If she hadn’t had a baby to look after and a job to go to five nights a week perhaps she might have got round to doing some redecoration to freshen it up a little…

  No…she was glad to be leaving this bleak, dreary environment to go somewhere warmer and more welcoming. The only thing that was really making her stomach roll over time and time again was the idea of going with Cristiano. Seeing him on and off over the past few days, for lunch or coffee, and walks in the park whenever she could grab an hour or two away from the demands of her week, had not lessened her heightened awareness of the man one jot. She had learned that he definitely liked to take charge, that he had certain old-fashioned views about men taking care of women, and that he could be brusque one minute then absolutely charming the next. With Matilde he’d assumed the role of a very fond uncle, and he loved to make a fuss of her and buy her little gifts—pretty dresses and baby toys that had clearly been purchased from the more upmarket department stores.

  All in all, he did the things that most women would love their children’s fathers to do for them, and Dominique sensed that her vow to distance herself from men in general after what had happened with Ramón was being seriously compromised by his appealing attentions. However, she knew that once back in Spain Cristiano would have his own very independent life to lead, and although he would be close at hand, she and Matilde would not command his attention half so much as they did here.

  That was good, she told herself. She absolutely did not want to need or depend on him—She had learned too well how no one could be relied upon. But it would be very hard when she had become so used to his presence as well as his reassurance and advice. Somewhere deep inside Dominique sensed a warning that she knew she should seriously heed. She’d already been abandoned by her father, and the father of her child. Did she want to risk making the same catastrophic mistake again by becoming too attached to Cristiano? He was merely acting as a sort of guardian for her and Matilde until he got them safely back to Spain, and that was all. After that his life would resume as normal, and Dominique would be busy getting used to a completely new situation—as well as a whole new set of people on her own. The thought gave her serious butterflies.

  The phone rang, startling her, and she scrubbed a hand round her face to help focus. Her tone had an unknowingly husky cadence as she spoke into the receiver. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Dominique?’

  The sensually commanding Spanish voice that answered had become compellingly familiar, and an involuntary shiver rushed through her at the sound of it.

  ‘I was wondering if you might ring,’ she replied, shocked that the word she had actually been going to use was hoping. Feeling mild irritation at her foolishness, she was glad that Cristiano wasn’t there in person to witness her telling blush.

  ‘How is the packing coming along?’ he asked, and she heard the smile in his voice.

  Glancing down at the only half-full suitcase, Dominique grimaced. ‘Actually, I had to take a break from it for a while. I had some friends round this evening to wish me bon voyage, and I’ve only just got Matilde off to sleep after all the excitement. I’m just about to carry on.’

  ‘Do you need any help? I could be there in about half an hour.’

  ‘No! There really isn’t any need…thanks.’

  Her hand was shaking as she threaded it through her hair. Right now she didn’t need the added distraction of his presence, and besides, she was sure he had seen enough of her depressing bedsit. No, she would be far more relaxed packing her meagre belongings on her own rather than have Cristiano helping her.

  ‘It won’t take me long, and then when I’m done I’m going straight to bed. We have an early start in the morning, right?’

  ‘I will be there to collect you at around eight-thirty. Our flight is at eleven. I hope the baby won’t disturb you too much tonight…you will need your rest with all the travelling we have ahead of us.’

  ‘I have a feeling she’ll sleep through.’

  ‘Good. I rang my family earlier, and they will de
finitely not be sleeping through,’ he said ironically. ‘They are overwhelmed at the idea that you are coming and they are going to see Ramón’s daughter at last.’

  ‘No more overwhelmed than I am at the thought of meeting them.’

  ‘You have nothing to worry about.’

  ‘So you keep telling me!’

  ‘And what I am telling you is the truth. Anyway…I think I should let you go now and finish your packing. Buenas noches, Dominique. Sleep well.’

  ‘Goodnight…’

  Suddenly saying his name seemed too intimate, so she chose to exclude it, but as she replaced the receiver on its rest it came to her that she was holding her breath…

  Matilde had won over the airline staff as soon as they boarded, and during the flight in the first class cabin the steward and stewardess assigned to look after them took every opportunity to stop and make a fuss of the beautiful infant. In turn, her huge brown eyes and happy dimpled smile declared her definite approval of being the centre of so much attention.

  Cristiano could not help but feel a strong wave of pride that the irresistible little girl had Cordova blood running in her veins, and he knew that when she was grown she would be a magnet for all the young men in the vicinity. He frowned, surprised by the worry this thought produced. Already protective towards her, he also sensed a definite possessiveness where her mother was concerned, and that perturbed him. Dominique was young and beautiful. Some day she would marry, and another man would assume the role of guardian and protector to her and her child. And that was just as it should be. Cristiano would be relegated to a far less important role in their lives and he would simply have to learn to accept it. His jaw tightened.

  Glancing at Dominique now, as she stared out of the window at the clouds—just as he himself had been doing only a week ago on his way to meet her—he silently observed her classic, flawless profile and knew great pleasure in doing so. Matilde had fallen asleep on her lap, and the baby’s head was snuggled into the groove of her arm. Together they made the most beguiling tableau.

  ‘What do you see out there amongst the clouds?’ he asked softly, leaning towards her.

  Her dreamy blue-eyed gaze settled on his face in surprise. ‘It’s compelling, isn’t it? It makes me wish I could fly…get away from everything troubling that’s going on down there on the ground and escape up here into the silence and solitude. That would be amazing!’

  A frisson of concern rippled through Cristiano. ‘This world makes you wish to escape it?’

  ‘Doesn’t everybody feel like that from time to time? What’s the matter? Have I said something wrong?’

  ‘No. Of course not.’ Determinedly releasing the tension that had gathered between his shoulderblades, Cristiano put aside the distressing notion concerning his cousin’s death that sometimes plagued his mind and focused on the lovely face before him instead. ‘It is just that I want you to know that you have everything to live for, Dominique. Life has been a challenge sometimes, yes…but now you are coming to Spain it will get much easier for you…trust me.’

  ‘I do. I have to—or else I wouldn’t have come, would I?’ Her glance was brief but intense.

  As she pulled her gaze away Cristiano almost wanted to command her to look back again. He touched her arm. ‘You look tired,’ he observed. ‘Give me the little one and take a nap for a while.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Carefully Dominique lifted the still sleeping Matilde into his arms and, feeling the slight but warm and pliable weight of the infant sag against him, Cristiano was again struck by how protective he felt towards the child. Settling back into his padded reclining seat with the baby held firmly against his chest, he sensed the kind of peace that he had not experienced in a very long while steal over him. And the truth was he found it almost too seductive for words…

  The impressive edifice loomed up before Dominique like some intimidating Moorish citadel from the ancient past, and her blue eyes widened in surprise. When she’d thought about what Cristiano’s home might be like she hadn’t really known what to expect, and hadn’t asked. But in her wildest dreams she would never have imagined something on the scale of grandeur and beauty she was seeing now!

  Cristiano’s driver—who had introduced himself at the airport as Valentín—smoothly drove the luxuriously upholstered black sedan up the twisting walled road that led straight to the entrance, and, craning to see out of the window, Dominique saw three women standing outside in the courtyard, in front of a huge double-fronted doorway. It was coming on to late afternoon, but the sun was still a banner of fierce brightness in the sky and she shielded her gaze with her hand from the stunning glare.

  Sensing movement beside her, she turned as Cristiano’s depthless sable eyes sought hers. ‘We are here. And, as you can see, your eager reception committee is waiting.’

  He smiled and there was something else in his glance besides satisfaction in reaching their journey’s end that Dominique couldn’t readily identify. Something that made her feel as though she was falling, with no glimpse of where or how she would land…

  Her stomach turned hollow.

  ‘Gaaa!’ Wriggling in her baby seat, a now wide-eyed Matilde reached out to Cristiano with a gummy grin.

  Catching the tiny plump hand that waved wildly in the air, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. ‘The same to you, my little princess! Now, let us go and see who is waiting to meet you. May I?’ he asked Dominique, and when she nodded agreement he carefully lifted the baby into his arms once more.

  To tell the truth, Dominique was glad he had offered to take her daughter, because now it came to it she realised just how acutely anxious she really was about this meeting. Out on the gravelled courtyard the sun was still beating down with surprising force for December—and Dominique moved towards the little group that was waiting to greet them with Cristiano and Matilde just ahead of her, her heart galloping and her stomach turning uneasy cartwheels.

  She prayed that any impending awkwardness that might surface would soon be behind her, so that she could at least try and relax a little, but her mind was racing with fear and doubt. What if Ramón’s mother believed that Dominique had somehow driven her son away? What if she blamed her or felt resentful that she lived while he had died? She knew her wild speculation made no sense, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  In the group that was gathered there were two older women and one perhaps a little bit older than Dominique herself, and she saw that one of the older women was wearing black. For Ramón? she speculated. This, then, must be his mother. All the women were strikingly attractive, with the same midnight-dark hair as Cristiano, but in the two older women it was threaded with pure silver.

  The woman dressed in black moved towards Cristiano and the baby with tears streaming freely down her face. Most of what followed speech-wise Dominique could not understand, not being familiar yet with the language, but she did hear ‘Ramón’ and ‘la niña’ several times, and the emotion in the other woman’s voice acted as a catalyst for her own. She swallowed hard to try and contain it, her heart full to overflowing as she watched the woman who must be Ramón’s mother lift a curious-looking Matilde eagerly but lovingly into her arms. Then tears turned quickly to beaming smiles, and the baby was showered with kisses and more loving attention—not just from the woman who held her, but from the other two women as well.

  Feeling somewhat redundant, yet strangely happy as she viewed the highly emotional scene, she glanced up in surprise as Cristiano stretched his hand out, indicating she should go to him.

  ‘Dominique…’ The pale, slender palm she slid into his was given a reassuring and firm squeeze that sent immediate goosebumps flying across the surface of her skin. ‘Come and meet my family. This is my mother, Luisa.’

  Warm eyes with the gloss of silky dark chocolate beamed back at her. Then, without further ado, she found herself being kissed soundly on both cheeks and pulled urgently against the other wom
an’s ample bosom for a fierce, affectionate hug.

  ‘Dominique!’ she heard, in Luisa’s halting, deeply accented voice. ‘Words cannot describe what we are all feeling today. The baby—she is…she is so—so important to us, we cannot tell you! Cristiano…Please, my son, explain.’

  ‘In my family,’ he began, his dark gaze settling gravely on Dominique, ‘my mother and Consuela are the only ones left. They have lost nearly everyone…parents, uncles, aunts…their husbands, of course. I am not married, and neither is my sister Elena. Therefore there were no grandchildren until Matilde. What my mother would like me to convey to you is that she is our hope for the future…and so she is very, very precious to us all.’

  Dominique stared—first at Cristiano, then at Luisa, then at Ramón’s mother, who was grinning from ear to ear as she jiggled a now laughing Matilde. So much loss…It was unbelievable. She was almost unbearably moved. For the first time since Cristiano had suggested it, she felt a sudden clear certainty that she had done absolutely the right thing in coming to Spain, and in that moment she knew she would stay. There was a lot of healing to be done here, and who knew? Perhaps her beloved child would help start the fragile process?

  ‘Well…I’m very pleased to be here with Matilde, Luisa. Even though the circumstances are so sad.’

  ‘You must call me Mamá,’ Luisa instructed immediately, grabbing Dominique’s hand and patting it. She glanced at her son, watching the proceedings with his usual quiet, dignified gravity. ‘She is very beautiful, is she not, Cristiano?’

  His pensive glance touched Dominique’s for a long, disturbing second. ‘Sí. She is.’

  ‘I am Elena.’ The stunning younger brunette stepped away from Ramón’s mother’s side at that moment and gave her a quick, hard hug.

  Her perfume was gorgeous, and no doubt expensive, but there was nothing stand-offish or superior in her manner, and for some reason, Dominique warmed to her right away.