The Spanish Billionaire’s Pregnant Wife

by Lynne Graham

  ‘Molly?’ he queried, as if he couldn’t quite accept the evidence of his own eyes.

  Molly leant back against the door and walked past him into the airy lounge where a half-empty whisky bottle and a single glass sat beside an untouched meal. ‘I have a proposition to put to you,’ she stated.

  Leandro gave her an enquiring look, which would have been more impressive had his eyes been in focus and had he contrived to walk in a straight line. In actuality he managed neither, for her abstemious husband was anything but sober. ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘A make-or-break holiday of at least three weeks for just the two of us, to see if we can make something of this marriage,’ Molly murmured, wondering why he was drinking alone and worrying about it.

  ‘I can do that!’ Leandro declared instantly.

  ‘Leandro…in Spain you couldn’t do one night at home with me, so don’t underestimate what you’d be signing up for,’ she sighed.

  His lean, strong features set into purposeful strong lines. ‘I’ll try anything that means I don’t lose you and the baby, mi preciosa.’

  Her eyes shone with tears, for she realised that he had done some serious thinking and was finally recognising what the breakdown of their marriage would ultimately cost him. Naturally he didn’t want to lose the chance to bring up the child he had married her to support. ‘And no more secrets. I know you’re not the sort of guy who’s in touch with his feelings, but you still have them…don’t you?’

  Leandro studied her, poised there in a bright red raincoat with her dark curly head tilted to one side like a little inquisitive bird, and snatched in a ragged breath. ‘Sì.’

  ‘So that’s the deal: long holiday, no secrets, major effort on all fronts from you,’ Molly proffered anxiously.

  ‘Do you want to go now?’ Leandro enquired hopefully.

  ‘No, I think you should sleep off the whisky first,’ Molly said wryly. ‘What about tomorrow afternoon? Could you hire a villa somewhere?’

  ‘It’s done. It will be the holiday of a lifetime,’ Leandro swore…

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE Casa Limone sat in a breathtaking Tuscan landscape of woods and hills. A Renaissance jewel with ancient walls and a tower, the former farmhouse enjoyed a contrastingly cool and contemporary interior. Surrounded by olive groves, vines and rolling fields speckled with glorious wild flowers, the house lay at the foot of a long lane in a sunlit glade of perfect peace and seclusion.

  Molly was surprised when Leandro admitted that it was only one of the houses he had bought as an investment over the years and put in the charge of a rental agency. He had never mentioned his extensive property portfolio to her before. A tense expression suddenly gripped her small face as she stepped out of the four-wheel drive they had picked up at the airport. ‘Did you ever bring her here? Aloise, I mean?’ she clarified, hating herself for asking, but, all the same, desperately needing to know.

  ‘No.’ As if realising that that one defensive word was insufficient, Leandro added, ‘She preferred the city.’

  ‘Oh…’ Registering that she had got a whole sentence dug out of him on that controversial issue, Molly didn’t waste time about going in for the kill. ‘Was it really a perfect marriage?’

  The silence seemed to thunder in her sensitive ears.

  ‘No,’ Leandro breathed curtly. ‘We were both miserable.’

  And with that stunning response he might as well have gagged Molly. She was so shocked that she could think of nothing else to say. Her gaze locked to his tight profile and the moment was lost as he lifted their cases to take them indoors. In a handful of words, he had blown away her conviction that their relationship came a poor second to his first marital excursion. Suddenly she was on unfamiliar ground and wondering how to be subtle and tactful, rather than shamelessly eager to hear every wretched detail that had contributed to that mutual misery.

  Yet how could she have been so blind to the obvious? Was it surprising that the guy who didn’t like weddings had good reason for his prejudice? People were more likely to talk about happy memories, but Leandro never voluntarily mentioned Aloise’s name and only now was she realising what had lain hidden behind that silence.

  ‘What were Nikolai’s last words to you today?’ Leandro asked, startling her out of her reverie.

  ‘Abbey wished us well!’ Molly ducked the issue to tell him brightly. ‘Nikolai just hasn’t had the chance to get to know you yet and you met under the wrong circumstances.’

  ‘But what did he say?’ Leandro persisted.

  ‘That if I can’t be myself with you, it’ll never work,’ she divulged in an apprehensive rush.

  A grim smile shadowed his wide sensual mouth. ‘He’s shrewd.’

  ‘But so are you.’ And gorgeous and clever and the man I love, Molly added inside her head.

  ‘I thought I was until you took off your wedding ring,’ Leandro confided in a dark, deep, abrasive drawl that shimmied down her spine like a burst of electrical energy on a still day.

  Molly focused on his lean darkly handsome features, her heart buzzing like a battery-driven toy inside her chest. She had feared that she might never be so close to him again. The future had become a terrifying destination that she was afraid to face. She had lost faith in her own judgement, had questioned what she had done and the impossibility of undoing it. The pain of leaving him, of being without him, had coloured everything she thought and experienced. Just at that instant, the pure relief of being with him again made her knees turn weak.

  Leandro’s attention dropped to the lush pink contours of her mouth. ‘Do you want your rings back?’

  Molly froze, evasive eyes reflecting her insecurity. ‘Let’s see how things go.’

  Brilliant dark eyes challenged her. ‘Am I on trial?’

  Molly moved her hands in a soothing motion and tried to explain what she felt. ‘I suppose we both are. I don’t want us to break up after our child’s got used to us being together, so if we can’t work things out it would be better if we separated before the birth.’

  Leandro was spooked by her earnest tone, the clear fact that she had considered such matters in depth. He leant forward, splaying his hands to the painted wall on either side of her, imprisoning her there. Dark golden eyes fired down into hers. ‘I will fight long and hard to keep you-’

  ‘But it’s not a failure to lose this battle,’ Molly whispered urgently. ‘It would just mean that we’re not suited but that we did our best. I don’t want you to stay with me only because of the baby.’

  A rather ragged laugh escaped Leandro. ‘That’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I want you, tesora mia…’ a lean brown forefinger shifted to probe the peachy softness of her full lips, lingering when they parted ‘…and I’ve spent a week living with the idea that I might never be able to be with you again…’

  ‘Me too,’ Molly confided, shaken that on one score at least they could think the exact same thoughts.

  ‘And now that’s all I can think about,’ he confessed in a driven undertone. ‘But that’s not what you want from me at this moment.’

  ‘No?’

  Black lashes semi-screened his gaze. ‘Of course, it isn’t,’ he told her with assurance. ‘You want to talk and sit down to a romantic meal and then maybe go for a walk.’

  She could tell this programme of civilised restraint had as much appeal for him at that instant as having his teeth pulled without an anaesthetic and she almost laughed out loud. Evidently he had thought a great deal about what she might expect from him and if he was getting it wrong, it was only because he had yet to grasp what she most wanted from him.

  ‘Maybe tomorrow we could do that. Right now I want your time and your attention-which is all I ever wanted. There isn’t some magical success-guaranteed blueprint of an itinerary to follow, even though I can see you wish there was.’ She lifted her hands and began to unbutton his shirt. ‘Whatever both of us want is perfect. We only have ourselves to please.’

  He laced a posses
sive hand into her tumbling mane of curls, his other hand closing to her hip to tilt her against him. His mouth came down on hers with a raw, hot hunger that made no attempt to deny its urgency. The erotic plunge of his tongue provoked a surge of moisture between her thighs and she shivered convulsively in spite of the heat. She broke the kiss to finish unbuttoning the shirt and finally spread her hands across his bronzed hair-roughened torso, letting her fingers stroke and explore down to the intriguing silky furrow that disappeared below his belt while remaining awesomely aware of the revealing bulge beneath his chinos. Trembling, mortified by her own eagerness, she drew back from him, closed one hand over his and began to move towards the stairs.

  ‘You want me too,’ Leandro said thickly, his satisfaction unhidden.

  ‘Shut up, or you’ll get ravished on the stairs,’ Molly warned him.

  In response to that threat, Leandro pulled her slight, swollen body to him and kissed her with a passion that blew her away. He removed her dress in a shaded room where muslin panels swished across the chestnut-wood floor in the faint cooling breeze coming in through the open windows. Birds were singing in the woods behind the house. A swelling sense of happiness blossomed inside her, as if only now was she finally able to believe that she was back with Leandro.

  She slid onto cool linen sheets and felt him hard, hot and rampant against her thigh and gloried in the differences between them. He stroked the full, firm globes of her breasts, lingering with tender care on the swollen pink buds of her nipples. She was all restive energy and craving, controlled by the pulsing ache in her pelvis. Everything was happening just a moment later than she needed it to happen.

  ‘Leandro, please…’ she framed, her voice tight with stress and longing.

  ‘Trust me,’ he breathed huskily. ‘It’ll be better this way.’

  Her hips shifted up to him. She was way past caring about the exact shades of satisfaction; she was more than willing to settle for the most basic kind of all. Even before he touched the most receptive spot on her entire body she was burning up, liquid with desire and unbearably sensitive. The sound of her moans made him crush her reddened lips below his again. Her impatience tormented her, her need more fundamental than any she had ever known before.

  Leandro turned her gently on her side, eased her back against him and entered her with a sweet, piercing depth that made her cry out in surprise and pleasure. And as he had promised it only got better. His slow, insistent rhythm was indescribably sensual and extremely controlled. Her excitement climbed to torturous heights as waves of pleasure began to pulse through her. She reached a shattering climax and tears wet her eyes at the wonderful intensity of her release. But nothing could have been more precious to her than the moment when Leandro vented an ecstatic groan and spilled inside her. He closed his arms tightly round her and pressed his mouth to her shoulder, muttering incomprehensible words of Spanish.

  Right then at that pinnacle of happiness she recognised how fierce and elemental their hunger to make love again had been. They had needed to rediscover and share that intimacy after their separation, brief though it had been.

  His fingers flexed against the swell of her stomach as the baby kicked and he lifted his tousled dark head. ‘Is that our child moving?’

  Molly confirmed that it was. He kept his hand in place before finally turning her round to face him and holding her close. ‘I’ve signed you up with a local gynaecologist for the duration of our stay.’

  ‘That wasn’t necessary.’ But Molly was secretly impressed that he had thought to take that precaution.

  ‘I felt that it was, tesora mia,’ Leandro intoned. ‘Just in case we need to consult a doctor while you’re here. I’m coming with you the next time you have a scan.’

  ‘Only if you want to.’

  His ebony brows pleated. ‘I always wanted to, but I thought you might find my presence an intrusion at such appointments. You never showed any sign of wanting me to accompany you.’

  It dawned on her that he had felt excluded and doubtful in a situation that was new and unfamiliar to him. She shifted closer and touched her mouth softly to his. ‘I assumed you’d know that I wanted you there for support, but I didn’t say anything about it because I didn’t want you to feel obligated to go. I knew how busy you were.’

  ‘A man who is too busy for his family doesn’t deserve one, querida. My father died when I was five and I barely remember him. I was in boarding school a year later.’

  Molly frowned. ‘That’s much too young to be sent away from home.’

  ‘I think so, too. In fact, I don’t believe I would send my child away to board. There is no harm in breaking with tradition for a new generation.’

  The following morning they visited a charming gynaecologist, whose name had been recommended to Leandro. Molly had a scan there and then at the private clinic and was amused and touched by Leandro’s fascination with their unborn son and the keen questions he asked. It occurred to her that her fear of being snubbed had ensured that she made no attempt to share any aspect of her pregnancy with him. She was warmed by the concern he couldn’t hide when the doctor advised that their child be delivered by Caesarean section because the baby was big and she was small.

  ‘Are you sure babies like bright colours that much?’ Leandro studied the vibrant cot quilt and blinked quite deliberately.

  ‘According to all the research…yes,’ Molly declared.

  ‘Colour is not my thing, mi corazón,’ Leandro admitted evenly as they walked back towards the car in the enveloping warmth of late afternoon. He ushered her into a seat in the shade at a pavement café. ‘Sit down. You’re tired.’

  Molly gave him a sleepy smile. If truth be known, she was tired of being pregnant, weary of hauling a larger, heavier body everywhere she went and sick of being clumsy and prone to tripping over her own feet. Yet a glorious sense of contentment washed over her as Leandro hailed the waiter and in fluent Italian ordered her favourite ice cream, a glass of wine for him and a long cold drink for her. They had sat on that particular terrace enjoying the view of the vineyards in the valley below many times, for the picturesque little hill town lay within a short drive of the house.

  Their four-week sojourn in Tuscany had taught Molly that she could always relax when Leandro was around. He was great at looking after her and amazingly good at foreseeing her every need. She noticed a couple of women watching him with appreciation from a nearby table. They fancied the socks off him just as she did. She was always worrying that she betrayed her love when she looked at him. She worked hard at keeping things light and cool. He had been so upfront right from the start when he had admitted that he couldn’t give her love. She was determined not to make him uncomfortable and risk destroying what they did have, purely because she couldn’t settle for what she had got.

  And she had settled for what she had with him; it was official. Last night she had put her rings back on and she had noticed that every so often he rested his attention on her hand, as if he liked to see them there on her finger.

  Over the past month she had gradually let go of all her fears and allowed herself to be content. The shadow of Aloise had evaporated and Molly no longer tormented herself with futile comparisons. Even if Aloise had been the love of Leandro’s life, their marriage had not worked out and Molly could no longer feel unequal or envious. She was still curious, still planning on telling Leandro about the contraceptive pills she had found, but she was too happy to want to risk spoiling the ambience they had achieved.

  They had had a wonderful honeymoon six months after their wedding. She had strolled along the city ramparts at Lucca, wandered through the medieval streets of Florence and Siena, occasionally pausing to explore ancient buildings and admire spectacular art at a leisurely pace. A hundred special memories had ensured she would never forget their time at Casa Limone. The scent of new-mown grass would forever remind her of making love in the lemon orchard beside the house and lying drowsing in the languorous aftermath in Leandro’s a
rms until it was almost dinner time. In the same way the taste of glorious chocolate would always remind her of being pregnant. She lusted after that wonderful taste-bud-melting flavour almost as much and as continuously as she lusted after Leandro, who didn’t know what a full night’s uninterrupted sleep was. He had confessed that he felt badly misled by the book he had read that suggested that a woman’s interest in sex would wane as her pregnancy advanced.

  Propping her chin on the heel of her hand, Molly surveyed her vibrantly handsome husband with dreamy appreciation. He was gorgeous and she felt that wanting to touch him pretty frequently was normal because sometimes she just couldn’t believe her good luck in having him and needed to satisfy herself that he really was hers in every way that mattered.

  ‘Are you thinking about our flight back to Spain tomorrow? Your family will be staying with us this weekend,’ Leandro reminded her.

  Molly smiled, recognising his concern that she might be less than eager to return to the castillo, but that wasn’t the case. On the contrary, she was looking forward to the prospect. She was confident that everything would be different this time around. After all, Doña Maria was no longer in residence and Molly’s marital home would finally be her own. To give him his due, Leandro had been appalled when he had realised that Molly had been prevented from having any input into the household arrangements and his mother had lied when she had announced that that had been his idea.

  ‘I can’t wait to see Ophelia again,’ she admitted.

  ‘But the two of you are always talking on the phone,’ Leandro pointed out with a shake of his dark head.

  ‘You’ll be going back to work the day after tomorrow,’ Molly said ruefully, knowing that that was normal life but dreading it all the same, for she had adored having him around all the time.

  Dark golden eyes level, Leandro brushed the back of her hand in a perceptive gesture. ‘I won’t work the hours I used to. I won’t be travelling for a while either and I’ll phone you at least twice a day.’