by Maisey Yates
But then, he’d known that would be the case. Everything he’d said to her was utter bull. He went to his bar and poured himself a shot of tequila. Perfect for doling out the punishment he so richly deserved. If he imbibed enough tonight he wouldn’t be able to move in the morning. Maybe it would even trigger another migraine. All the better. It would cover up the real reason he was curled up on the floor writhing in pain.
He carried the glass into his room with him and slammed it on his bedside table.
He’d blamed her. He’d told her she didn’t know what she was getting into, and it was true. That he couldn’t be everything for her, and that was true, too.
But he’d lied when he’d said he didn’t want to be her husband.
He did. More than anything, he wanted to be by her side all of his life. But how could he do that when he wasn’t everything a husband should be? His father had been so strong and capable; he’d cared for them all. He’d made sure his mother was beneath his protection, always. And he, Eduardo, was so … so weak.
He had feet of clay and he feared one day they would crumble beneath him.
He lay down in his bed and put his hand over his eyes, trying to dull the ache in his chest, trying to staunch the sudden flood of emotions that was washing through him like an endless river of pain.
Yes, he would have his child. He was thankful for that. He would be the best father he could be. But he wouldn’t force Hannah to be with him. She would thank him later.
Dios, but he wanted her. If only this could somehow be enough. If only caring for her would make him worthy of her. After all she’d been through, the disgusting living conditions and neglect …
She deserved more. A champion. For someone to come in and make her life easier, not harder. She deserved a man who could be a strong father to their child. A man who could be a capable husband. A strong businessman who didn’t make mistakes.
He wanted to howl at the irony. He’d had it. Back when he’d first married her, he’d had that capability. To be the man she deserved. And he hadn’t cared. He hadn’t tried. And now he was hampered, hampered by an altered mind, and now that he cared desperately about being everything for her, about loving her as she deserved, he couldn’t.
He reached out and fumbled for his tequila but couldn’t quite grasp the glass. He shoved it off the nightstand and lay back, embracing the pounding migraine that was starting behind his eyes and stabbing deeper with each passing moment.
He focused on it. Reveled in it.
Because it took the edge off the unendurable pain in his heart.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AFTER spending the day locked in his penthouse, he’d called his driver and made plans to go to the ranch the next day. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to drive up to the house. His head was pounding and he felt slow and thick.
Then he’d called around and found out Hannah was staying at a luxury hotel. He hoped they had sheets with a suitable thread count.
The thought made his eyes sting.
They would work it out to the point where they would see each other. He would buy her a house, get everything set for the baby. That would be worse in some ways. Seeing her, being so close, and not being able to have her.
Because of his own weakness. His own fault.
He wanted to peel his head open and pull his brain out. Fix it, get a new one. He hated it. Hated the feeling that he was trapped. Limited.
Hated being without her even more than that, because he felt like he was missing something of himself.
Because something had changed since Hannah had come back into his life. He didn’t want to be the man he’d been anymore. That man had been a fool. Arrogant. Selfish. He no longer missed him, no longer wished he could be him.
An empty realization since the man he was now couldn’t give her what she needed, either.
He exited the penthouse and got into the black town car that was idling against the curb. He rested his head against the back of the seat and concentrated on the pounding in his head.
The car pulled away from the street and out into the flow of traffic. It didn’t take long to get out of the city and he felt the pain in his head lessen, even as the one in his chest got worse.
He looked up for the first time, his eyes clashing with the blue eyes of the driver, reflected by the rearview mirror.
“Have I been kidnapped?” he asked, his voice sounding hollow, shocked, even to his own ears.
“Kidnapped is a harsh word,” she said. “I prefer to think of it as being commandeered.”
“Is it any different?”
“A bit.”
His stomach tightened down. “What is it you want, querida?”
“Me? A fair hearing. You don’t just get to decide how things are going to be. Or did you not get the memo that marriage is a partnership?”
“I believe I decided we wouldn’t have a marriage.”
“Yes, well, I don’t agree. And if I recall, when I tried to marry someone else, you very much didn’t agree, either. You told me we were married and that was my tough luck. So guess what, Eduardo? We’re married. Tough luck. That means we talk this through and you don’t just mandate.”
“What did you do with my driver?” he asked.
“I paid him off. I’m very wealthy, you know. And persuasive.”
“Hannah …”
“Back to the subject at hand, though.” She maneuvered the car off the rural road, into a little alcove and put it in Park, killing the engine.
She unbuckled and got out, coming around to his side of the car and opening the door.
“As I was saying, you don’t get to make all of the decisions in this relationship. I want some say, too.” She lowered herself to her knees in front of him. “I’m really hard to live with sometimes. I’m stubborn, and I can be materialistic, and selfish. Until recently I was afraid to care for anyone, afraid to feel anything, because I couldn’t control feelings. But not anymore. And it’s because of you that I’m not afraid now.”
His mouth dried. “How did I … how did I make you not afraid?”
“Because you have accepted me. No matter where I was at. No matter what I said. You didn’t let me push you away. You didn’t make me feel ashamed for what I’d done, for my fears. You were just … there. No one, not in my whole life, has ever simply accepted me. Has ever stood by and supported me. But you have. You’ve done that.”
“But … Hannah … I can’t … I can’t take care of you. I can’t be everything that a husband should be to you. I’m … I make mistakes.”
“Yeah, so do I. Remember the fraud?”
“You did what you had to do.”
“I’m not perfect. And neither are you, but that’s okay. I love you, Eduardo. And when everything else in this world fails, that’s what will remain. It’s what will matter.”
He lowered his head, pain seizing his chest. “You can’t love me.”
“Let me tell you something, Señor Vega. I try to control and reason everything so that it fits my idea of perfection. From my sheets to my name, I try to make it all my vision for what life should be. I can’t do that with you. You aren’t reasonable or controllable or perfect. You’re better than that. You’re you. And it’s those little imperfect bits of you that make you the man I want. I don’t need to be taken care of … I just need a partner. And I want you to be him.”
He unbuckled his seat belt and pulled Hannah into the car, onto his lap, holding her close. “Hannah, I want so much to … I want to be your champion. To make everything easier for you. I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Do you want to know something? When I saw you having your migraine … when I held you against me … that was when I realized that I could be a mother. Not because I feel even remotely maternal about you, but because I realized that loving someone, being surrounded by the person you love, was so much more important than status. Than things. I’ve spent all of my life trying to fill this emptiness in me. I tried to do it by just
giving in to whatever I wanted anytime I wanted it. Then I tried to do it by controlling myself. Controlling everything I did. I filled the void with things. With a penthouse with a view. But the satisfaction didn’t last. It wasn’t real. The one thing I’ve never had is love. And you’ve given it to me. You’ve shown me not just how it feels to be loved, but how beautiful it is to love. Eduardo, loving you could never be a burden.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I wish you could feel it.”
“What?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I wish you could feel what I feel. I feel like my heart was trapped in a cage. I wouldn’t let myself have emotions. I wouldn’t let myself care for anyone too deeply, wouldn’t let myself have friends. I was strangling my heart, suffocating it. And you set it free.” He looked at her eyes, pale and filled with tears, so sincere. “I’m free.”
Something broke open inside of him. A stone wall that had been wrapped tightly around him. And he felt it, too. Felt like he’d walked out of a prison cell and into the sunlight for the first time in years. She’d spoken of that feeling once, and he felt it now. So real, so intense.
His heart thundered, his hands shaking as he stroked her hair. “Hannah … I … You love me?”
“Yes.”
“Me. This me. Not the me that I was?”
“Eduardo, this man, the one you are right now, is the man I fell for. You’re the one who changed me.”
A wave of relief, so strong, so powerful, washed over him. “You want me like this?”
“Yes. Just like this. I don’t think you’re diminished, or wrong, in any way. You’re just you.”
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, his headache fading. “With you, Hannah, I imagine maybe I can just be me. The me I am now. I was … as afraid as you were of changing back into who you used to be, I was afraid I never would. But I think we were both being stupid.”
“Do you?”
He nodded. “Like our past was a destination we could so easily get to. Like it was one I might want to get to. I thought that by bringing you back, by seeing your face, I would see the past. But now when I look at you I only see my future. I love you, Hannah.”
She smiled, real, happy. “You mean, you really do want to be my husband?”
“Forever. I was just … too afraid. Of failing you. Of failing our child. I want to give you everything, and I’m afraid that I’m so much less than what you deserve. But I don’t despise the man I am now … I don’t want to go back. How can I when you love me? When you’ll be in my future?” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“I will be,” she whispered. “I promise.”
“Sometimes I’ll have headaches. I’ll forget things. I’ll make mistakes. But one thing I promise never to forget is how much I love you.”
Hannah smiled, her blue eyes filled with joy. “I won’t be perfect, either, but I will be myself. I will be committed fully to you.”
“I promise the same.”
Hannah looked around them, at the mountains, at the car, at him, and she laughed. “It’s like making marriage vows all over again.”
“Only these are very real,” he said.
She nodded. “From my heart, I promise, Eduardo. I’ll love you always. You know … no one has ever loved me before. But you were worth the wait.”
His chest expanded, his heart overflowing with emotion, with love. “Never doubt that I love you. I do. More than anything. And our children will love you. Our lives will be filled with it.”
“I want that, very much.”
“And you will have it, my love.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I never imagined I could deserve such a strong, beautiful woman as my wife.”
“Some might say we deserve each other, Eduardo,” she said, a wicked little smile curving her lips.
“True.”
“And it’s a good thing we’re both strong.”
“Why is that?”
She pressed a kiss to his lips. “So we can take care of each other.”
EPILOGUE
HANNAH looked up at the picture that had hung in their bedroom for the past ten years. When she’d first seen it, she’d thought the woman standing in the crowd looked alone. For some reason, she didn’t think so now.
Maybe because she never felt alone. Just as Eduardo had promised, her life was filled with love now.
She looked down at the nightstand and opened up the drawer, and looked down at the letter that was there, a blue ribbon wrapped around the outside. The letter from Benjamin Johnson, who was now eighteen and headed off to college. The letter that thanked her. For giving him life. For giving him his family. She smiled down at the paper, her heart swelling with love, and slid the drawer closed.
“Mama!”
She heard screaming and shouting and a scuffle, then Eduardo’s deep voice scolding in Spanish and four sets of little feet running, then a door slamming. She laughed and turned away from the painting just as her husband came into the room.
“Everything well with the troops?”
“Graciela had Juanita’s doll. And the boys were simply choosing sides to create a scene,” he said. “I sent them out. It’s a nice day.”
She turned to him, leaned against his solid strength. “I need your quarterly report,” she said.
He dipped his head and kissed her on the nose. “I already sent it to you.”
She smiled up at her husband, the father of her children, her business partner. “Well, now I have no reason to punish you.”
His eyebrows arched. “You sound disappointed.”
“I am.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
He wrapped his arms around Hannah and she rested her head on his chest. “For being my partner.”
She went up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Always.”
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
First published in Great Britain 2012
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.
Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,
Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Maisey Yates 2012
ISBN: 978-1-408-97452-0
Table of Contents
Excerpt
About the Author
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Copyright
