Martinez’s Pregnant Wife(12)
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?
* * *
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.
Raul’s mother reached out and laid her hand on his arm for a second time. This time he had to fight hard against the instinct to pull away, avoid any kind of contact. It was his default setting, but somehow he managed not to. Instead he looked at her, trying to decipher what was really going through her mind.
‘I don’t blame you for any of this,’ she said, looking directly and earnestly into his eyes, just as his mother had done the day she’d told him the truth about his father, knowing she didn’t have long. Savagely, he pushed that to the back of his mind. ‘And neither must you blame yourself.’
‘There is only one person to blame and he is no longer with us to accept that blame.’ The harsh words rushed from him in an uncustomary display of hurt. He took a deep breath, determined to lock himself back behind his barrier, his wall of protection. She was getting too close. The only other woman to have got that close to his emotions since his mother had died was Lisa. And that had done neither of them any good.
Raul’s mother spoke again, this time in fluid Spanish. Was it because she didn’t want Lisa to know or was it because it was truly meant? But as he watched her turn and walk away, mingling with other guests, the pain of his childhood began to resurface.
‘I’m guessing that wasn’t good.’ Lisa’s voice jolted him back to the present, thankfully shutting away the past, the pain and knowledge that he didn’t deserve the kind of happiness she’d been looking for when they’d married.
‘Apparently I am like my father, but I don’t have to be.’
Lisa’s perplexed expression reassured him that he wasn’t the only one who was unable to decode whatever message was within that statement, but her next words threw that into disarray.
‘You are also like your brother,’ she said tentatively, her green eyes ever watchful.
Was she still holding out for love and happiness, the kind that sparked around the bride and groom? Raul had confessed on their very first meeting in London that he didn’t do emotions and that had been the fine thread that had pulled them together, allowing them to bond. Two brothers rejected by the same man. Either Raul was a liar or a very good actor.
He shook his head in denial. ‘We might look similar, but that is where it ends.’
He looked over at Raul as he lowered his head to kiss Lydia and even he could see the love between them. From the other side of the room he could feel it, heavy in the air. The man was a liar. A damn good one. He did do emotions and the most painful one of all.
‘Are you sure?’ Lisa’s breathy whisper irritated him, sure as he was that it was intended to evoke emotions from him. What was she pushing him to admit? That he loved her, that they too would find the happiness Raul and Lydia had? Well, she’d be disappointed.
‘Absolutely, now if we are to arrive in England on time, we should leave now.’ He changed the subject, diverted her attention, hoping to distract her from the destructive course the conversation had veered to after Raul’s mother had left them.
‘They have only just said their vows,’ Lisa implored, her green eyes full of confusion. ‘We can’t leave now.’
‘We can and we will.’ He put his arm in the small of her back, ignoring the jolt of heat that rushed through him, and gently but firmly propelled her through the guests. ‘After we wish the bride and groom well.’
* * *
Before Lisa could process what was happening, a radiant Lydia was smiling at her. ‘I hear congratulations are in order, that you are Max are going to be parents.’
‘Yes.’ This was the hardest bit of acting she’d done since arriving in Madrid.
Raul and Max were suddenly deep in conversation, turned slightly away, and Lisa had never felt so excluded. Lydia must have noticed. ‘They are talking about their father’s will. It seems he’d had help all along from one very corrupt member of the board, but I bet he never expected Raul to find his brother and welcome him into the business as well as get married.’
Lydia’s light laughter didn’t quite disguise the undercurrent of seriousness of her words and Lisa vowed to ask Max about it later. In fact, maybe now would be a good time to find out more about the man who was her child’s father. But that would mean revealing more about herself, her childhood brought up on the wrong side of town where police visits to her house happened with alarming regularity.
‘Lisa and I will look forward to seeing you in London for Angelina’s twenty-first birthday party.’ Max’s words dragged her mind back from the brink of those dark days as he pulled her close against him in a pretence of affection.
‘We wouldn’t miss it.’ Raul’s deep and accented voice was so like Max’s it was hardly believable.
‘You’re not going on honeymoon?’ Lisa asked before giving it any thought.
‘My wife is a romantic,’ Max said quickly as if it was something to apologise for, the sting of hurt bringing heat to her cheeks.
‘Then you are very lucky,’ Raul said as he looked into his wife’s eyes, making a connection that almost excluded her and Max. ‘And so too am I.’
‘I think we should leave you two alone.’ Max’s stern voice hardly dented the aura of love in the air and the newly-weds barely noticed. ‘Especially as I have romantic plans in England.’
* * *
Lisa had resisted the urge to ask any further questions as the small jet plane had flown to England. The dark and brooding scowl on Max’s face had been enough to see to that, but with each passing hour his mood had deepened and she was beginning to feel he was further away than ever from her. Unreachable.
She’d never imagined Christmas Eve would be like this. It had gone from the wonderful moment of seeing two people in love say their vows to a cold and stony silence that was frostier than the weather they’d returned to. That silence had deepened, becoming more Arctic as a sleek black car had pulled up at the steps of the plane and Max had ushered her into the passenger seat and then settled himself in the driver’s seat. They had left the airport and driven, not toward his London apartment as she’d thought, but out into the darkness of the countryside.
‘This is where we will be spending Christmas.’ His deep and all too sensual voice shocked her as he spoke in the darkness of the car. His gaze was firmly fixed on the road ahead, lit by the strong beams of the car’s headlights, as he manoeuvred his sleek sports car off the main road and onto a smaller one. Around them was nothing but darkness. She had no idea where they were. All she knew was that they’d left London behind over an hour ago.