Martinez's Pregnant Wife

by Rachael Thomas

  I can’t be what you need me to be, Max, and you can’t give me what I want.

  He’d wanted to turn straight round and go after her, drag her from the little flat she’d moved into when their marriage had first fallen apart and bring her back. But he’d stood and looked at his reflection in the windows, black against the night. He’d never chased after a woman and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.

  He swore savagely in Spanish under his breath as yet more party guests arrived and paced to the door. What if something had happened to her? What if she was ill?

  No, that is exactly what she wants you to think. Don’t give her the satisfaction.

  What had happened to his mother wouldn’t happen again. He’d finally managed to get that clear in his mind and, by doing so, his emotions had started to unlock, to engage with hers. He’d been on the verge of admitting something he’d never thought possible, but Lisa’s cold note proved how foolish that would have been, how weak he had become.

  As those dark thoughts roused his anger further, another car pulled up in front of the doors and he watched as Raul got out, then turned and took Lydia’s hand as she slid gracefully from the car. She looked stunningly beautiful in her gold dress, but it was the love in her eyes as they met Raul’s that really rocked Max to the core, until he felt such violent shaking that he thought an earthquake was happening.

  Once inside the hotel, Raul was oblivious to his brother, his attention so fully focused on his wife that Max felt as if he were watching from a distance, that he was seeing something he couldn’t have.

  ‘But I love you, Max, why can’t you let me in? Let me love you? Maybe then you can love me too.’

  Those words that Lisa had said at the cottage, the words that had condemned any chance of them being together, rushed back at him, like an angry dog, snarling and snapping at him. Forcing him to listen. To think and, worst of all, to feel.

  ‘Max?’ Lydia’s voice saved him from the savage jaws. ‘Where’s Lisa?’

  The lovely smile had slipped from Lydia’s face as she and Raul had walked over and, if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a cool reserve of suspicion in her eyes. Already the two women had formed a close friendship, so wasn’t it only natural that Lisa would confide in her? But had she told Lydia he wanted a divorce?

  ‘She is on her way.’ His words were short and he didn’t miss Raul’s brows flicking upward in question.

  ‘On her way?’ The accusation in Lydia’s voice was as clear as a mountain stream in the spring. ‘From where?’

  He sighed, not wanting this inquisition right now. ‘She had other plans today and insisted she’d make her own way here this evening.’

  When Lisa had finally answered her phone yesterday afternoon she’d been adamant that he was not going to fetch her. The fire of independence in her had raged so strong he hadn’t been able to talk her round, but he had sent a car for her, along with the diamonds he’d given her at Christmas as a reminder of their deal. That had been several hours ago, so where the hell was she?

  With a sinking sensation deep inside him he realised she wasn’t coming. His phone vibrated in his inside pocket and he pulled it out, but the text was from the driver of the car he’d sent for Lisa, informing him that Mrs Martinez had not required it.

  ‘Problems?’ Raul asked, his dark eyes watchful and irritatingly knowing.

  ‘Lisa is behind schedule, so I suggest we go on into the party.’ He put on his most charming smile and used it to its full advantage on Lydia. It didn’t quite have the effect he was hoping for, but when Raul took her arm, urging her to do as Max suggested, the attention was finally off him.

  He lingered behind the happy couple as they made their entrance into the magnificent room. He stayed at the top of the wide flight of steps as they descended into the party. He couldn’t go down yet, couldn’t mingle with such joyous happiness when his heart beat so savagely in his chest.

  Not only had Lisa left him, she’d stood him up too.

  He absently scanned the room, looking but not seeing the array of colours of the ladies’ dresses and the uniform black of tuxedos. The light and melodious sound of a grand piano competed with the cacophony of laughter and voices. He didn’t belong here. Not tonight.

  ‘You look like you could do with this.’ Raul’s voice startled him and he turned to see his brother beside him, a glass of whisky in his hand.

  Without a word he took it, swirled the amber liquid round the glass and then looked at Raul. ‘Where’s Lydia?’

  ‘With friends. Now are you going to tell me what is really going on?’

  His first instinct was to tell him nothing was going on, but he didn’t want to. There was a connection between him and Raul, a bond made so quickly that he owed it to him, his brother, to be honest. To admit his failings.

  He drank the whisky back in one quick gulp and looked at Raul. ‘We are getting divorced.’

  Raul swore harshly in Spanish, causing guests who were just arriving at the party to turn and look at him as they made their way down the stairs and into the centre of the merriment and celebration.

  ‘She asked for a divorce?’ The disbelief in Raul’s usually firm tone was all too apparent.

  ‘She did, before she knew about the baby.’

  ‘And you want a divorce?’ The disbelief in Raul’s voice was clear.

  ‘I do now.’

  Raul swore again. ‘We can’t talk here,’ he said, looking around him. ‘Let’s get another drink.’

  He turned and made his way down the stairs and Max knew he had to follow. Not out of any sense of duty or obligation, but because he wanted to. Hell, he had to share this with someone. He needed someone to reassure him he was doing the right thing, because it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

  Raul led him through the snooker room and into a bar more reminiscent of a men’s club and gestured toward two large leather chairs by the window. Max sat and within seconds two glasses of whisky were on the table between them. Outside the window, Max could see the street and the cars and cabs moving away from the hotel entrance after dropping off their passengers.

  Lisa wasn’t going to be one of them. His stupidity had made damn sure of that.

  ‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Raul looked at him sternly as he launched his tirade, one he deserved every bit of. He’d avoided love, telling Lisa what she wanted to hear, because he thought he could save her from hurt, but he’d only her hurt her even more and now she’d left him. Just as everyone else he’d ever loved had. Hell, even Angelina couldn’t bear to be with him for long.

  ‘It’s for the best.’ He clenched his jaw as his brother looked at him reprovingly.

  ‘The hell it is.’ Raul all but growled at him, then launched into a torrent of Spanish. ‘What is the matter with you? Can’t you see she loves you?’

  ‘Love isn’t everything, Raul,’ he threw back at his brother in Spanish, finding it liberating to be letting it all out, letting all the emotions he’d been holding behind his dam of hurt burst over the top. ‘I certainly didn’t get any from my father and I’m damn sure you didn’t either.’

  Raul leaned forward in a slow and purposeful way. ‘I got past that and you sure as hell can too—or regret it for the rest of your life.’

  Max gritted his teeth and frowned at him, remembering what Raul’s mother had told him at the wedding in Madrid.

  ‘Don’t run from the truth, Max, face it. Own it. Make it your friend, not your enemy.’

  What was that truth? That he didn’t have to be like his father? That he could be exactly who he wanted to be?

  Raul stood up, his glass of whisky untouched. ‘You told me the day we met I should sort out my love life and now I am offering you that same advice. Sort it, Max, don’t allow the past to kill your future.’

  Max inhaled deeply, not ready to accept what his brother was saying. ‘I will give it some thought.’

  ‘Not thought, action and damn soon.’ Raul straightened his jacket a
s if he’d physically done several rounds with his brother. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to be with my wife.’

  Max watched as Raul wound his way back through all the high-backed chairs and out of the room, leaving Max to brood. He was worse than his father, walking out on the woman who’d so honestly declared her love for him, the woman who carried his child.

  He looked into the bottom of the whisky glass, but no answers lay there. He put it down roughly, sliding it across the table away from him. He was pushing it away as roughly as he’d pushed away the woman he loved.

  The woman he loved.

  The icy bucket of truth poured all over him. He’d been trying to fight the one thing he’d always thought would make him like his father, believing that by loving someone it only led to pain and heartache for them and rejection for him. But he’d been wrong.

  Very wrong.

  Love was the one emotion his father had been incapable of feeling, of receiving, and by allowing love into his heart he was proving he was far more of a man than his father had ever been.

  Why the hell had it taken him until now to accept that? He’d pushed so many people away. His stepfather. His sister. Worse than that, he’d forced Lisa to walk out on him.

  * * *

  Lisa took in a deep breath, instilling herself with calm, trying to soothe the heavy thump of her heartbeat. After what Max had said to her, what had made her come here tonight? Was it to see those dark eyes filled with such coldness once more, to feel the weight of his anger, his rejection yet again? Was it one last attempt to suffocate the love she had for him?

  The black cab pulled up outside one of London’s most prestigious hotels as in the distance Big Ben chimed half past eleven. Just half an hour and all this would be over. The deal. Her marriage. Her love.

  She touched her fingers to the diamonds that lay coldly against her skin, annoyed that Max’s driver had handed her the package and said he had instructions to take her to the party. With cold anger in her veins she’d taken the package, knowing full well what it contained, and had dismissed the driver, who’d reluctantly left.

  At first she’d thought she wouldn’t go, that she’d return the diamonds to him by courier, but that plan had slipped from her mind as quickly as it had formed. Only seeing him once more, so cold and heartless that he had insisted on their deal in such a way, would finally kill that foolhardy love she had for him.

  She’d take off the jewellery piece by piece, a symbol of her heart, her love, and give it back to him. Then walk away.

  ‘Are you wanting to go somewhere else?’ The driver asked as she sat in the sanctuary of his cab, reluctant to get out, reluctant to do what she knew she had to.

  Did she want to go somewhere else? Yes, anywhere but here. ‘No, thanks.’

  She passed the fare through to him and opened the door, the cold air of the evening making her shiver, or was it what she intended to do? Walk away from her marriage, the man she loved?

  She picked up the emerald-green silk of her dress, holding it just above her ankles, and stepped down from the cab, feeling unsteady on the gold high-heeled sandals she’d bought as she’d wandered aimlessly around London today, proving if nothing else that she wanted—or needed—to be at the party tonight. To see Max one last time. To put an end to it all.

  She pulled off the black coat, which hadn’t gone with the high-class dress at all, and handed it in, suddenly feeling very exposed. The long dangling diamond earrings felt heavy in her ears, the necklace weighed her down even more, but very soon she would be free of them and all the pain they’d brought her.

  She held her head high as she ascended the main staircase of the hotel and followed the sound of music until she came to the double doors of the suite where one of the biggest New Year’s Eve parties this season was being held. It was the place to see and be seen. She pushed the doors gently open and stood at the top of a very grand wide staircase and looked down at the most glamorous party she’d ever seen.

  It was like being Cinderella arriving late at the ball. She might not have glass slippers, but she did have a dress she’d never be able to afford, not in a million years. And diamonds. As she looked around at couples dancing, groups of people talking and the sheer glitz of the moment her thoughts went back to the fairy-tale films she’d watched endlessly as a child. She might not be about to get her happy ever after, but she was certainly at the ball.

  She lifted the hem of her dress slightly again and slowly descended the steps, one hand on the wide balustrade, then all the air sucked out of the room, the voices and the music slowed and became nothing but a steady thump. Or was that her heart?

  Max was standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her. If this were her fairy tale then he’d be smiling up at her, love shining bright in his eyes. He would rush up the stairs, take her hand and kiss her fingers so gently yet so passionately, then lead her to the dance floor, where they’d whirl around in a mist of love.

  But this wasn’t her fairy tale. This was reality.

  The reality of Max so very handsome in his black tuxedo, his face dark and thunderous as he looked up at her.

  * * *

  Max’s breath felt as if it had stopped. No matter how deep he tried to breathe he couldn’t. Like a vision of pure loveliness, Lisa stood halfway down the stairs, the green silk of her dress cascading down her body like a waterfall. Her vibrant red hair was piled up in a mass of unruly curls and the diamond earrings sparkled as they moved gently in the light. The necklace seemed to caress her skin, making his fingers want to touch her there, his lips to kiss her.

  She’d come. His mouth dried as relief washed over him, but that was short-lived as he felt her gaze fall on him, felt the heat of those alluring green eyes. Around him people chatted and danced, but he couldn’t move. Not toward her or away from her. He’d been certain of what he had to do as he’d left the bar, but hadn’t expected that moment to come so quickly. He’d anticipated a car journey across London, time to process his thoughts, rehearse his words because he knew he only had one chance and they had to be right.

  As if in slow motion she continued down the stairs toward him. This was the woman he loved, the woman he wanted to be with for ever, but could he say it now when that realisation was all still so new and fragile?

  She reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped. The diamonds at her neck glittered as she breathed, giving away the strength of her emotions right now, but the look on her face was unreadable. A mask of defiant beauty.

  He became aware of people around him staring, looking from her to him and back again. The strength of the emotion arcing between them was so powerful it was drawing others in and they stepped back, watching, waiting.

  Slowly she walked toward him, the emerald silk of the dress shimmering over her body, giving her an ethereal glow. The mutinous spark in her eyes sent a trail of fear sparking down his spine. She looked like a woman with a purpose. The love had gone from her eyes. He’d done that to her.

  Then she was standing before him and her heady perfume invaded his senses, making clear and rational thought almost impossible. He knew they were being watched, knew they’d grabbed everyone’s attention, but right now he didn’t care, not if it meant he could tell Lisa what he had to tell her.

  ‘I’d like to dance.’ Her words were lethally sharp. The soft and gentle woman he’d unknowingly loved all this time had been replaced by an ice-cold vision of beauty.

  ‘It will be my pleasure,’ he said as he took one of her hands and pulled her gently into his embrace.

  It should feel good to hold her against him, to feel the heat of her skin through the fine silk, but it was bittersweet. He looked down at her, but she was resolutely fixing her attention on his chest and he wished this particular scene had been played out anywhere else but the dance floor.

  He wanted to ask her why she’d come after he’d been so cruel to her, wanted to know if it meant he had another chance, but the words just wouldn’t come. This
was worse than a damn game of poker.

  ‘I came here tonight to honour the deal I made with you,’ she said, finally looking up at him, as if hearing his thoughts, but the fierceness in her eyes scared the hell out of him.

  ‘I’m glad you did.’ Her delicate brows lifted in surprise, but the hardness remained in her eyes, sparking more brilliantly than the diamonds at her throat.

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘We need to talk, Lisa.’ Max pulled her closer as they moved slowly in time to the music. She stiffened in his arms. This wasn’t going well. He could feel her more than physically pulling away from him.

  ‘There is nothing more to say, Max.’ She stopped dancing and looked up at him as she pulled off one earring, then with purpose she pulled the other off. ‘You have said all that needs to be said.’

  ‘Not yet I haven’t.’ What was happening?

  She took his hand, turned it over and placed the earrings in his palm. Puzzled, he looked at them lying there like glittering icicles, but as he looked back at her he saw her reach up and begin to unfasten the necklace.

  She was giving them back. Giving back her love—in the most public and final way.

  ‘Stop.’ The word came out as a feral growl but it snared her attention. She looked at him, her arms poised ready to unfasten the necklace, the diamonds setting off fireworks of sparks with each breath.

  ‘Why?’ The breathy yet fiercely determined word reared up at him like a stallion. Wild and untamed. Hurt.

  This was it. This was the moment to put his cards on the table, the moment to tell her everything. Why here? Why like this? But as those thoughts raced in his mind he knew that if he didn’t do it now he’d never get another chance.

  He took a deep breath, still holding the earrings, which now seemed to burn his palm. ‘Because I love you.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE