Martinez’s Pregnant Wife(13)

‘Where are we?’ The mystery was too much for her tired mind, but as the car turned another corner, a cottage, festooned in festive lights, sprang from the darkness of the countryside. The yellow glow of lights from the windows warned her they were arriving at someone else’s home. One very much occupied.

‘You wanted Christmas and if my memory serves me right, your idea of Christmas, something like this.’ There was the faintest hint of amusement in his voice, but she wasn’t going to be fooled or lulled into a false sense of security, not after the hard and cold mood he’d been in all day.

‘But I told you that a long time ago. Before we were married.’ Inwardly she cursed herself for saying that word, for reminding them both of the issues that lay between them.

‘You did. You said you’d always imagined spending it at a cosy country cottage, complete with Christmas lights and a log fire.’ He moved toward her in the darkness of the car, the leather of the seat scrunching softly above the subtle hum of the engine. Her heart leapt as she inhaled his scent. Why did she have to react so acutely to him?

‘I never thought...’ Her voice trailed off in a whisper. He’d done this for her?

‘I give you exactly that.’ He looked over at her as he turned off the engine stopped and an expectant silence filled the car, wrapping around them. ‘Christmas in a country cottage.’

‘But whose cottage is it?’ It was late on Christmas Eve and she wanted to know just whose Christmas they would be descending on.

‘Ours—for Christmas, that is.’

‘And you did all this?’ He’d remembered all she’d said when they were dating, how she’d never had a Christmas that had been special, how she’d wanted the tree, the trimmings, the lights and champagne in front of an open fire. Didn’t that mean something? That he cared?

‘You doubt that I could be a family man, one who cares, and this is my way of showing you otherwise.’ A determined firmness entered his voice but she refused to spoil the moment by thinking too hard about what he’d just said. She didn’t want to acknowledge the true implications of this. She just wanted to enjoy this special moment, imagine this was how they really were.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she said as she opened the car door and got out, smiling at the traditional wreath hanging on the green-painted door. It was her dream Christmas and the man who claimed not to be able to love her had brought her here.

The night air was cold and crisp. Exactly what she’d always imagined in her idea of a perfect Christmas. The only glitch was that she’d imagined spending it with the man she loved, one she’d foolishly thought had loved her too. If she put that notion to one side, she could make a memory to hold onto, one to cherish when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve and all this pretence of affection, of wanting to be a father, came crashing down.

‘I hope you like it because we are here until we return to London for Angelina’s birthday party and then there will, of course, be the New Year’s Eve party.’ His breath hung in the air, clouding around her, and she smiled up at him. Surely it meant something? He wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble otherwise. The pain and anger which had built up since they’d gone their separate ways thawed even as the night air chilled.

‘I won’t know until I see it,’ she teased him, anxious now to see what his idea of the perfect Christmas cottage was like inside and trying hard to stifle the hope that he really did want her and the baby in his life. To allow that hope to grow would be foolish.

He smiled at her. Warmth filled his eyes that she hadn’t seen for a long time and her heart constricted with the effort of not letting her love show. She wanted to reach up and kiss his lips, to snuggle against him and be held in his arms.

‘Very well.’ He took out a key from his pocket and opened the door, the old key turning in the lock, sounding loud in the dark stillness of the winter night.

She pushed open the door and the heat from inside the cottage rushed at her. The scent of Christmas filled the air as he followed her in, but having him standing so close behind her made her feel weak as her legs trembled. She tried to ignore it, looking around the festive feast of decorations in the room, of which a real tree was the centrepiece.

It stood beside the fire, which glowed with orange warmth, creating the perfect scene. Beneath the tree were presents and its branches were heavy with coloured baubles and lights. How had he managed to arrange all this? The fact that he had even thought of it infused her with hope. Maybe he wasn’t so immune to her or the idea of fatherhood. Maybe there was a future for them.

‘I love it,’ she whispered as she pulled her cashmere scarf off and walked into the room. ‘But how did you manage all this when we were in Madrid?’ With arms wide she gestured around her. The whole room looked as if the owners had just stepped outside for a moment.

‘I rented the cottage and specified exactly what I wanted, even down to the mistletoe.’ He moved closer to her and pulled her toward him and under the piece of mistletoe adorned with white berries. The darkening of his eyes left her in no doubt that Christmas decorations were the furthest thing from his mind right now and her resolve to keep her distance melted like ice in front of the fire.

‘Thank you.’ She moved toward him, wanting to make the most of the change in him. It must have been Raul and Lydia’s wedding that had been darkening his mood over recent days, not impending fatherhood as she’d thought. She’d been too sensitive—too emotional. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘As are you.’ The deep tone of his voice and heavy accent left her in no doubt where this was going to lead. A sliver of doubt crept in, threatening to spoil the moment, but she pushed it aside. It was Christmas Eve and didn’t wishes made on Christmas Eve come true?

‘Max,’ she said as he took her in his arms, pulling her against the hardness of his body. She could feel his warmth through the heavy coat he wore and her heart somersaulted just from being in his arms. ‘Is this really what you want?’

He looked at her, dark eyes hooded with building desire. ‘We had something good, Lisa, and I have every intention of finding it again, especially as it is Christmas.’

Before she could protest or ask him just what he meant, his lips brushed teasingly over hers. Her resolve didn’t melt. It blew apart into millions of pieces and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself closer. Right now she didn’t care what he meant. She just wanted to feel the passion, the desire that this man, the man she loved, evoked in her.

‘Here?’ She breathed the word against his lips, pleased to hear the feral growl her whisper created.

Never in her life had she been so bold, so empowered. Her love for him changed her, made her a different woman. A real woman. She took hold of the lapels of his coat and kissed him, letting every bit of desire in her show. Then, with purposeful intent, she slid her hands inside the coat and up to his shoulders before pushing off the heavy fabric. All the time her eyes held his, daring him to want her—daring him to stop her.

‘I have been reliably informed that every room in the cottage has been prepared for Christmas. Maybe now would be a good time to see what the master bedroom has to offer.’





CHAPTER SIX

MAX LOOKED DOWN into Lisa’s face, the sensation of losing control, of slipping once more under her spell, was so powerful that for a moment he couldn’t say anything. He wanted her as he’d never wanted her before.

‘I think that is a perfect idea,’ she whispered and reached up to kiss him once more. He should resist, keep himself distanced and prove they could live together without the added complications of passion, but he’d never been able to resist Lisa.

He kissed her back as a fierce and insistent desire began to beat like a drum around him. She responded and the gentle kiss became deep, hard and explosive. Every nerve in his body called for hers, called for the satisfaction that only she could bring, the pleasure and pure torment of her touch, her caress and kisses—his possession of her.

When she pulled back from him, her eyes were heavy with desire and, without another word, he took Lisa’s hand and led her away from the warmth of the log fire. Her hand held his tightly as they climbed the narrow staircase of the cottage and when they reached the top he was pleased to see his instructions had been followed to the very last detail.

The door of the master bedroom was open and the soft glow of lamplight shone from within. The gift shopper he’d hired online to give Lisa her perfect Christmas had excelled herself; her touch was so personal, he briefly wondered if she was still here. Not that she should be. He’d paid her well, extremely well, for this special gift. It was a gift to disarm his wife, to allow her to see that they could be together and raise their child without the complication of love and unnecessary emotions.

He knew well enough that when he opened up and loved someone, let them into his heart, it all went wrong. His father had left him and his mother had taken a choice that had led to her leaving him. Then, as his career as a footballer had taken off, plunging him into the spotlight of the sports world, a freak accident had taken all that away too. There was only one person who’d been steadfast in her affection for him and that was his sister, Angelina, although he didn’t deserve any from her, not when he never allowed her close, when he always wore the armour of dominating older brother.