But she was afraid. She braced for him to thrust himself inside her, cleaving her tender flesh, but instead, exhaling, showing visible control, he slowly thrust a single inch inside her. She gasped. She felt so wet, enfolding his enormous shaft. He pushed further, to two inches. He was so thick it ached a little, stretching her, but as he slid inside, it felt good. So good. Just like the first time …
Then she remembered. With a sudden cry, she lifted up on her elbows and breathed, “Condom?”
His dark eyes narrowed, and then he scowled. “I forgot …” He started to reach toward his nightstand. Then he looked down at her with a sensual, slow-rising smile. “I do not need a condom, querida. Ever again.”
“You—don’t?”
“You are my wife.” He pulled back his hand, and his expression turned wicked as he looked at her with heavily lidded eyes. “I want to get you pregnant. Now.”
“Now?” she said, her eyes wide. It was too soon. She hadn’t even had a period yet, since the birth of her baby three months ago. She shook her head. “I’m not ready …”
“We have eight bedrooms,” he insisted. “I want to fill them. I want the noise and joy of many children. And I want you as their mother.” As he held her wrists, holding her down to the bed, his dark eyes seared hers. “Let me fill you with my baby, querida.”
Callie stared up at him, feeling pinned to the bed. Was she ready to make that lifelong commitment to Eduardo that he wanted? Ready to be bound to him even further? Even deeper?
He pushed himself back into her, and she closed her eyes, gasping with pleasure. He felt so good inside her. Farther and deeper sounded like all she’d ever wanted. She tried to think about the decision that had to be made but her rational mind fell away as he gripped her hips tight. His huge shaft slowly filled her, inch by inch, sliding through her tight, wet passage.
She gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his skin as she arched her back, her head tilted back. Her whole body was taut and aching with need for more, just a little more. She wanted him to fill her all the way, to ram himself deeply inside her. Her breasts swayed as he penetrated her. Her nipples were taut as he lowered his head to lick one rosy peak. With his rough mouth on her, his hips took decisive action. He thrust deeply inside her, all the way to the hilt, and she nearly screamed with pleasure.
But even then, reality intruded. She’d made this mistake once. Not again. Never again. Her fingers gripped into his shoulders, and she opened her eyes, pushing him back.
“Condom,” she panted.
For a long moment, he stared at her. Then his eyes narrowed. Rolling off her, he grabbed a condom from the nightstand and sheathed himself in a quick movement, rolling it down over his thick shaft in the manner of a man who’d done it many, many times. Then he climbed back on top of her. Anger seemed to seep from his body, and Callie licked her lips, wanting to repair the mood between them.
“Thank—”
He put his finger roughly on her lips. “Don’t,” he ground out.
Gripping her hips with his hands, he thrust himself inside her, all the way to the hilt. She gasped, forgetting their argument, forgetting everything as he rode her, hard and deep. A shudder built inside her, a tremble like an earthquake as he filled her, like an underground river bursting from the cracks of a dam. She felt tension ratchet higher and higher inside her, shaking her. Her head fell back as she held her breath, climbing higher and higher still. She closed her eyes as her lips parted in a soundless cry.
Then it was no longer silent, and she screamed, clutching his shoulders as she exploded.
A low, answering cry came from his lips. His hard, handsome face was pale, as if he’d held himself back by only the slenderest thread. But as she shook and tightened around him in ecstasy, he surrendered. He thrust inside her one last time, impaling her so hard and deep she felt split in two, and he filled her with a hoarse shout, his eyes closed, his face euphoric. Almost reverent.
Collapsing over her sweaty, exhausted body, he held her against his chest. “You will belong to me,” he whispered. “You’ll soon surrender.”
Turning toward him, Callie pressed her cheek against his bare chest. Her own heartbeat roared in her ears. As she drowsed in his powerful arms, exhausted and protected by the warmth and strength of his naked body, she knew it was already true. It had always been true.
Her heart had surrendered long ago.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CALLIE woke up with a start. What time was it? Was that her baby crying?
She rose blearily from bed before she was even quite awake. The moonlight had moved across her bedroom, so she must have slept. With a gasp, she remembered how her husband had just made love to her. She glanced back at the bed with her heart in her throat and a smile on her lips.
The bed was empty. Eduardo was gone.
She glanced at the clock over the mantel on the bedroom’s fireplace. Three in the morning. Where could he be? Why would he leave her in the middle of the night, after he’d so thoroughly reclaimed his bed?
Her cheeks grew hot at the memory of last night. He’d claimed her in a way she’d never forget.
Then her baby wailed again from the nursery, louder this time. She hurried through the adjacent door, turning on a little lamp shaped like a giraffe that gave a soft, golden light. She picked up her baby. “It’s all right,” she soothed. “Mommy’s here. I’m here.” Cradling her chubby three-month-old baby in her arms, Callie carried her to the gliding chair near the window. As she nursed her child, the baby’s complaints faded. Looking down at her, Callie was lost in wonder at her baby’s beauty, at the long black eyelashes she’d gotten from Eduardo brushing against her plump cheeks. One of her baby’s tiny hands gripped her finger.
We have eight bedrooms. I want to fill them.
What would it be like, Callie thought, to have a whole houseful of babies like this? To have a large family? An adoring husband?
Slowly her eyes looked around the cheerful nursery. It was warm and luxurious, but she would have liked to create her baby’s nursery herself, even with just a bucket of paint, a sewing machine and her own two hands—not paying someone else to do it, but doing it herself as a labor of love. Next time, she promised herself. Then stopped.
Next time.
Could she really stay married to Eduardo, knowing he would never love her? He knew how to make love … oh, yes. She shivered, closing her eyes as she remembered how he’d caressed her last night. Remembered the feel of his body against hers. The husky sound of his voice as he’d said, You belong to me.
He knew how to make love.
But she’d never seen him truly care for anyone. Except their baby.
Was their lust, and mutual care for their child, enough to sustain a marriage when their values were so different?
After her baby nursed back to sleep, Callie left her on her back in the oval-shaped crib, careful not to wake her. She’d likely sleep another four hours now, or maybe more. Every night, she slept a little longer. Her baby had become an excellent sleeper.
And maybe she would be now, too. Closing the nursery door softly behind her, Callie smiled. The last few hours, after falling asleep in Eduardo’s arms, had been the best sleep she’d had all year.
He wanted her to be his wife forever. He wanted them to be a family. And she’d loved him for years. Even when she’d hated him, it had been the hurt of a woman who’d been rejected from the person she loved most.
Maybe it could work. Maybe it could be enough.
Or maybe, somehow, he would grow to love her, as she loved him. She closed her eyes, hugging herself at the thought. If there was even the slightest chance of him loving her someday, she would have married him at once. Remembering, she bleakly opened her eyes. No wonder Eduardo had called her naive and ridiculously sentimental.
Where was he, anyway? She looked around her dark, empty bedroom. Where could he be at this time of the night?
Maybe he’d gone to the kitchen for a snack.
Pulling on a soft blue chenille robe, she went downstairs, but the kitchen was dark and empty. Walking past the wall of windows with its magnificent view of the city, she went down the hall to his home office, then to the theater room, then even past Mrs. McAuliffe’s suite. She could hear the older woman’s soft snoring muffled through the door. Puzzled, Callie finally went back upstairs.
Glancing in the empty guest rooms, she had just decided to phone their bodyguard in his separate apartment downstairs when she heard Eduardo’s voice in the guest room.
“Nothing has changed.” His voice was the smooth, arrogant tone she remembered. “Nothing.”
With an intake of breath, she pulled back from the doorway, leaning against the wall of the dark hallway with one hand over her mouth and the other over her heart.
“Don’t call here again,” he growled, and hung up.
A little squeak escaped her lips. Who was Eduardo talking to? An old lover? Was that why he’d snuck out of bed to talk to someone in private, so his wife couldn’t hear? Even as Callie tried to tell herself that she was overreacting, that he could be talking to anyone, her heart was gripped with fear.
There has been no other woman since the night you were in my bed. Do you understand what I am telling you? No other woman.
She exhaled as the vise grip on her heart loosened. Eduardo was not a liar. If anything, he was cruelly honest. As his secretary, she’d seen him callously dispose of one lover after another, plainly telling them to their faces that he was bored with them, or that he had absolutely no intention of being faithful. He was not a liar.
But then, he’d never had to lie. He’d never been married before.
“What are you doing awake?”
With an intake of breath, she saw him in the doorway, looking down at her with dark eyes. “Um …” Her fingers fidgeted with the belt of her blue chenille robe. “I got up to feed Marisol and you were gone.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.” His handsome face was impassive. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She bit her lip, feeling guilty that she’d slept so well. “Is something wrong? Was I snoring, or …”
He gave a low laugh then shook his head soberly. “I just don’t sleep well with other people in my bed. I have never managed it.”
She frowned. “Never?”
“Have you ever heard of me letting a woman sleep over?”
Callie stared at him, remembering when he’d been her boss, the most heartless playboy in the city. “N-no,” she said hesitantly. She gave him an awkward smile. “You were kind of famous for your one-hour stands, actually.”
He leaned against the door frame, looking down at the floor. “It’s hard to let down my guard.”
“Even with me?”
He looked up. “Especially with you,” he whispered.
The low lights of the hallway caused hard shadows across the angles and planes of Eduardo’s face. His jawline was dark with stubble, giving him a piratical air. He looked like a pirate all over, in fact. A sexy, dangerous, hard-bodied pirate. Without thinking, she put a hand on his warm, hard, bare chest above drawstring cotton pajama pants slung low on his slender hips.
“Is there anything I could do to help you sleep?” Realizing how blatant that sounded, she blushed. “I mean, could I get you some warm milk or something?”
“No,” he said abruptly then amended, “but thanks.”
She looked at him. “Why didn’t you kick me out?” she whispered. “Last Christmas, the night I stayed at your house?”
His eyes met hers. “You weren’t just some starlet I picked up at a gala. You were important to me. I wanted you to stay.”
“You did?” she breathed. “Why?”
“Don’t you know?” Pulling her into his arms, he lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Then he smiled … the charming, megawatt smile that always twisted her heart in a million pieces. “I need you, Callie.”
Eduardo looked at his wife in the shadows of the hallway. Her pale cheeks were rosy, her emerald eyes bright, and her light brown hair, long and wavy, fell over the shoulders of her blue robe. She was so sexy, so soft and desirable. He’d just had her, and already he wanted her again. He wanted her even more.
Callie’s eyes filled up with tears.
“You need me? I thought … I thought you only wanted me here because of the baby.”
He moved toward her, gently brushing her hair off her shoulders. “That’s not the only reason.”
Trembling, she looked up at him. Words seemed to tremble on her lips, but at the last moment, she turned away. Staring down the dark, quiet hall, she wrapped her arms around her body. The sleeves of the blue chenille robe hung long over her wrists, making her look like a kid playing dress-up.
“I want to stay with you,” she said softly. “And be your wife.”
Eduardo’s heart rose with fierce triumph. “Querida—”
She held up her hand. Her green eyes were luminous. “But I will no longer neglect and ignore my friends and family just to coddle your insecurity.”
Her harsh words were like a slap across the jaw. His eyes widened then narrowed. “Coddle my insecurity.” His voice was low and dangerous. “You mean how I’ve forbidden you to talk to Brandon McLinn.”
“Yes.”
Jaw tight, he took a step toward her. “You should just let him go.”
“No.” Her eyes glittered defiantly. “He’s my friend.”
“Friend!” he snarled. He shook his head. “He told me you’d been engaged since high school. He said even if you’d fallen into bed with me, I meant nothing to you and that you’d soon be done with me—”
Eduardo stopped, his jaw tight, his heart pounding. He hadn’t meant to say so much. Brow furrowed, Callie came closer, and the soft light from the guest room illuminated her pale, beautiful face. She gave an awkward laugh.
“Want to hear a funny story? At senior prom, we made this silly pact that if we weren’t married by the time we were thirty, we would marry each other.”
“You’re only twenty-five.”
“Yes, I know. I’m starting to wonder if perhaps Brandon was—” she licked her lips uncomfortably “—well, maybe threatened by you.”
Suddenly it all made sense.
Eduardo sucked in his breath. “You weren’t in love with him, were you? He was trying to get rid of me, and it worked.” He clawed back his hair with his hand. “Once I was out of the way, he used your pregnancy as an excuse to move in for the kill.”
Drawing back in confusion, Callie shook her head. “He loves me, yes, but like a brother!”
“I was such a fool.” Pacing two steps down the hall, he could hardly believe his own stupidity. That night, that beautiful Christmas Eve night when they’d first made love, when he’d taken Callie’s virginity, he’d thought their relationship might be different from all the rest. But he’d thrown away that precious connection—based on the insinuations of his rival!
“Brandon McLinn is in love with you,” he ground out. “I saw it in his face.”
“He must have been trying to protect me.”
“You may be blind to his true feelings. I am not.” His eyes narrowed. “You will never contact him again. Or your family.”
“What?” Callie’s mouth fell open. “What does my family have to do with anything?”
Eduardo couldn’t explain, or she would find out everything he’d been keeping from her—for her own good. “I am your husband. You will trust me and obey.”
“Obey?” Callie glared at him, folding her arms. “What century are you in? You might be my husband, but you are no longer my boss!”
“Am I not?” he said softly. He reached his hand to her cheek, stroking softly down her neck. She closed her eyes, and he felt her shudder beneath his touch. “I am trying to protect our family. I have my reasons. Believe me.”
But Callie stiffened, stepping back, out of his reach. “No.”
His eyes widened then his brows lowe
red. “No?”
“I want to be your wife, Eduardo. I do,” she whispered. “But I have to see my family. And Brandon.”
“I could take you to court. The prenuptial agreement—”
“So do it.” She looked at him evenly. “Take me to court.”
She was calling his bluff. He had no desire to sue his own wife, the mother of his baby. And now they both knew it. He exhaled, clenching his hands. “I will not allow you to—”
“It’s not a question of you allowing me. I’m telling you. I need a relationship with my family—including Brandon—and so does Marisol. I’m going home to visit my family. You can divorce me. But you can’t stop me.”
Checkmate, he thought, almost with despair.
He still couldn’t forget—or forgive—the way her parents had treated Callie when she’d called them just two hours after the birth, anxious to tell them about the baby. She’d had every reason to relax and get some rest, but instead she’d tried to share the joyous news with her mother and father. She’d been left sobbing with grief. The memory still made his jaw clench.
Eduardo had always dreamed of having a family of his own. A family that was kind and loving, not cruel or harsh as his own had been.
He wouldn’t let anyone make Callie cry like that. Ever.
Staring at her, a thought took hold of his brain. Morally reprehensible—but then, he thought grimly, he was already in so deep he might as well go a little further.
It was for her own good, he repeated to himself. For her own good, and the safety of their little family.
“Have you considered, querida,” he said in a low voice, “that perhaps they might not want to see you?”
Callie looked at him with stricken eyes. “What?”
It was cold, it was cruel, it was wrong. But he pushed aside his twinges of conscience. He had to be ruthless. “Has McLinn contacted you once in the last three months?” He tilted his head. “Has anyone in your family tried to call you back, even once?”
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