by Kim Lawrence
One word could change so much.
Had he been thinking of his dead wife while he made love to her? Nell’s stomach clenched with revulsion at the thought.
She lifted his arm from her waist and rolled out from under it, pulling herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. She lifted a hand to her trembling lips and doubted she would ever be able to rid herself of the bitter metallic taste of humiliation in her mouth.
She had felt beautiful and special and comfortable in her own skin with him—able, he had convinced her, to be herself.
All that sweet, terrifying tenderness and now this. It was like seeing heaven and plunging back to a cold, stony earth.
She sniffed and, pulling a sheet off the bed, wrapped it around her shoulders. Her quivering lips firmed. There was no way she could compete with a ghost, she didn’t want to! Her mistake had been thinking—a classic case of seeing what you wanted—that it had been more than just sex for Luiz.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NELL checked the baby monitor was switched on and sat back down to read her book, the same page for the tenth time and it still hadn’t sunk in. The exploits of her favourite female detective could not distract her from the introspective gloom of her own reflections. Any more than her brother and sister-in-law’s boast that her nephew never woke once he was put down to sleep had saved her from having to go up and down the stairs four times.
She knew of course that she was going to have to snap out of it at some point, she was going to have to shrug it off and get on with her life, but that point had not yet arrived.
She had gone through a lot of soul-searching before she had written that letter to Luiz. A man deserved to know he was going to be a father, even though life would have been a lot simpler from her point of view if he had remained in ignorance.
Having Luiz in her life even in a peripheral part-time-father sort of way was not going to be easy—actually it was going to be hell. In fact the mental image of him strolling in with some gorgeous blonde on his arm to do the duty-dad thing had almost stopped her putting the letter in the post. God, but at times a conscience was a really inconvenient thing to possess.
Ironically, of course, her soul-searching had been a total waste of time. She had posted the letter a month earlier so, even allowing for the vagaries of the postal service, he had to have received it by now and so far his response had been a deafening silence.
Nell told herself she was relieved. She was angry not because he had shown extreme bad manners—in no world, not even his rich glamorous one, was it acceptable to file the letter along with, for all she knew, the other ‘I’m carrying you child’ missives that arrived on his desk—but because she had thought he would reply. She had believed he would; she had believed in him and his integrity. Now she knew she was a fool.
The disillusionment went deep.
Giving up on the book, she switched on the TV, turning down the volume to an inaudible murmur as she flopped back down onto the sofa.
She had been home for two weeks when she had made herself do the pregnancy test, or rather tests—she had done three before she accepted the result. Yet still it had not sunk in for a few days; she had walked around in a state of wilful denial. The sort of ‘ignore it and it will go away’ mentality that she had always thought cowardly in others—it turned out she was the biggest coward of all time.
It had hit home in, of all places, the waiting room at the dentist’s surgery. She had been there for a check-up when the dentist had decided she was due a routine X-ray. The magazine she had picked up while she waited had opened on one of the typical ‘celebrities living a life the rest of you can only dream of’ double-page spreads during a glittery charity auction in New York.
She had recognised several famous faces and there had been Luiz, the only one not smiling but still managing to look more Hollywood and more sternly beautiful than any of them with his hand on the waist of a young Oscar-winning actress.
If the actress had been acting the adoration she had been looking up at him with she definitely deserved her Oscar, because Nell for one believed it.
It was crazy that such a silly thing should have brought the reality and the total impossible nature of her situation home to Nell, but it had.
In a perfect world, realising that you were in love with the man whose baby you carried should be a good moment, a moment to treasure. For Nell it had felt as though a very tall building had just fallen on her head, but the light at the end of the tunnel had been the realisation she wanted this baby, she would fight to have this baby—his baby.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she had walked to the reception and mumbled, ‘Sorry, but I can’t have an X-ray. I’m pregnant.’ Then before the startled-looking receptionist could respond she had fled. It was a shame—really good dentists were hard to come by and there was no way she was walking back into that building.
Pushing aside the memories and recalling the mantra she repeated to herself at frequent intervals extolling the advantages of single parenthood, she turned up the volume just as a quiz-show host with strangely orange skin appeared on the screen to the sound of thunderous applause.
With a wince she flicked the channel over and, drawing her knees up to her chin, she told herself it could be worse: she could be a guest at the party at her sister’s house to celebrate her brother and sister-in-law’s wedding anniversary.
When there had been a last-minute hitch with the babysitter, for once she hadn’t been irritated by her sister’s assumption she would step into the breach.
‘Nell won’t mind at all.’
For once Nell actually wouldn’t, but it would, she reflected, have been nice to be asked.
‘God, Nell, you’re a total life saver,’ her sister-in-law, Kate, said, adding anxiously, ‘Are you sure you don’t mind? The agency might be—’
‘You don’t want to leave Stevie with a stranger, Kate.’
Kate flashed Nell a look of apology. ‘No, of course not, Clare, but—’
‘Nell will be the only one there without a partner—’
‘Actually, Clare, I invited Oliver Loveday. He’s the new partner at the—’
That settled it for Nell. ‘No, Kate, I’d love to babysit and, anyway, I’ve nothing to wear.’
Nell gritted her teeth while both women laughed as though she had made a hilarious joke.
‘Nell thinks fashion is a new tee shirt.’
‘And jeans that are only one size too big.’
‘Two sizes if they’re your hand-downs, Clare,’ Nell added innocently. She saw her sister’s lips tighten. Clare’s struggle with her ever-expanding hips was well known and she felt a bit of a bitch. She didn’t mind exactly being the butt of their humour, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly resentful that it had never occurred to either of them that she might enjoy fashion had she ever had the money to spend on clothes.
A knock on the door shook Nell from her brooding reflections. She considered ignoring it, then thought about little Stevie upstairs waking up, the thought was enough to send her surging to her feet. It had taken her half an exhausting hour last time to settle the youngster, who looked cherublike and angelic when he was asleep. The problems started when he woke up. Even when he’d seemed soothed the cranky youngster had produced heart-wrenching tears every time she had tried to tiptoe out of the room.
‘All right, all right,’ she muttered, catching a slipper with her toe and hooking it back onto her bare foot—you didn’t dress up for babysitting and Nell’s slouchy outfit was intended for comfort. ‘I’m coming, keep your hair on.’
She unlatched the front door and, leaving the chain attached, pulled it open a crack. Despite the fact her brother lived in an area where the most serious crime reported was someone picking the flowers in the square he had given her a strict lesson on security before he’d left. His son’s life, he had reminded her severely when she had laughed, was in her hands.
Nothing was in her hands when the tall sinister
shadow stepped forward into the security light; she fell gracefully onto her bottom where her limbs and appendages continued to disregard the instructions from her brain—which were along the lines of run…hide.
In the moment before she drew back with a gasp he had seen her eyes widen in shock. He could empathise if not sympathise with her reaction, which could not in his view come close to the shock he had suffered when he had opened the letter. His fingers curled over the envelope in the pocket of his coat when he heard the thud followed by sinister silence.
‘Nell…Nell!’
Luiz inserted his fingers into the crack between the door and the frame feeling for the chain, his hand steady despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins in a torrent.
Even if she had wanted to respond to the urgent call of her name or the subsequent flood of angry-sounding Spanish she couldn’t have; shock had totally paralysed her.
Was she injured? Speculation of the possibilities was a luxury he could not allow himself as he finally forced the chain. In moments like this imagination was not a useful thing.
The door swung inwards on the unoiled hinges with a creak worthy of a horror film. Luiz felt a rush of relief tempered by apprehension as he stepped inside and almost fell over a Victorian umbrella stand complete with umbrellas and into the hallway.
He took in the situation at a glance and reacted despite Nell’s feeble attempt to fend him off with her hand as he dropped down onto his knees beside her.
‘Go away, I’m fine!’ She lifted her head, felt her world swim and let it fall back. ‘Stop doing that!’ The clinical, detached explorative movement of his hands over her body evoked a less than clinical reaction from her nervous system.
‘There doesn’t seem to be anything broken.’
That’s all you know, she thought, thinking of her poor heart that felt as though someone had ripped it out of her chest and stamped on it.
‘Just give me a minute,’ she said, closing her eyes. ‘What?’ As he hefted her into the air in one smooth motion, her face tucked underneath his chin, she produced a token kick but otherwise made no attempt to sabotage his rescue attempt.
A few moments later she was stretched out full length on her brother’s sofa, a cheesy voice in the distance asking if she wanted to take a risk?
No risks—she was playing it safe from now on.
Nell struggled to raise herself. ‘Will you switch off that thing?’
Luiz placed his hand lightly on her chest and she slumped back with a sigh. ‘Stay still. You fainted.’
And whose fault was that? Nell hit his hand and raised herself up on her elbow. ‘I have never fainted in my life. Go away!’ She batted away his restraining arm and swung her legs out over the side of the sofa before hauling herself into a sitting position.
‘See…I’m totally fine,’ she snarled, pushing aside the strong and disturbing recollection of being scooped into his arms and cradled against a chest that had about as much give as steel but felt warmer and smelt quite frankly… gorgeous.
Luiz, a nerve pumping wildly in his lean cheek, folded his arms across his chest and said with a ‘what are you going to do about it?’ smile, ‘I am not going anywhere, Nell. I have only just arrived.’
‘What,’ she demanded crankily as she pushed the silky wisps of hair from her eyes and fixed him with an unfriendly glare, ‘are you doing here anyhow?’
She tried to look away but she couldn’t; despite his negligent pose she could almost see the tension humming through his lean body.
A soundless sigh left her lips as she stared up at him. He looked utterly compelling in a dark, mean, moody sort of way. Under the sweep of his ludicrously long curling lashes his obsidian eyes glittered, reflecting back her own image, his mouth curled cynically down at one corner, the nerve beside it throbbing.
He shrugged off the full-length drover-style double-breasted raincoat he wore over his suit. It glistened with rain, as did his dark hair.
‘I was looking for you.’
And now he had found her and he couldn’t stop staring. His memory had not, as he had been telling himself, embellished the details—her eyes really were that big, her mouth that soft and kissable.
Nothing in his expression revealed the helpless lustful surge of his body or the fact he felt as though he were burning up from the inside out as he stared at her mouth, but he had no control over the dark dull lines of colour that emerged along the slashing angles of his cheekbones.
‘How are you feeling?’ He was relieved her scary pallor had receded, but she still looked incredibly fragile; it shocked him deeply to see how much weight she had lost.
Nell ignored the question. It would have been impossible to answer anyway—there were no words to adequately describe the cocktail of emotions churning inside her.
‘Looking for me?’ Despite her intention to stay cool and not allow him to guess how much he had hurt her, Nell couldn’t stop the bitterness and resentment creeping into her voice as she added with a tight smile, ‘Not with any great urgency.’
She watched through the inadequate protection offered by her lashes as an inexplicable expression of outraged incredulity flickered across his dark, stern features.
‘You thought I ignored the letter?’
His indignation struck Nell as the height of hypocrisy. ‘You did ignore it.’
‘I didn’t ignore it. I did not receive it.’
Nell, her lips curled into a contemptuous smile, shrugged and said, ‘If you say so.’
His jaw clenched. ‘I do say so.’
‘It really doesn’t matter to me one way or the other,’ she lied.
‘Yes, I can see that.’
The drawled sarcasm brought Nell’s flashing eyes to his face.
‘You addressed your letter to the castillo?’
A flicker of uncertainty entered Nell’s eyes. ‘I sent it to the castillo…so what if I did?’
‘So I wasn’t there. If it had been marked urgent it would have been forwarded to me, but as it was simply marked personal it sat there waiting for my return. My grandmother’s health is much improved—incidentally she would, I am sure, send you her love if she knew I was here. I have been travelling. I only returned to Spain this morning.’
The memory of opening the letter and reading her curt, concise little note was one he could not relive without growing pale. She had given him all the relevant details datewise, but not a word of emotion had crept in. Not a single clue of whether she was sad, happy or indifferent to the news—whether she was sad, happy or indifferent to him.
The latter question was now less of a mystery. When she looked at him none of the above was evident; it was a contemptuous loathing that shone like a beacon in her wide-spaced clear eyes.
Nell’s brows drew together as she gave a concessionary shrug. It was just feasible he was telling the truth. Jet lag would explain the high-tension aura he was exuding—that and learning he was about to be a father, which clearly had not had him breaking open a bottle of champagne.
‘I’m glad your grandmother is feeling better.’
‘As am I.’
Nell ignored the raw interjection and admitted casually, ‘I saw a picture of you in New York.’ She looked at him and thought, The day I realised I loved you.
‘I had several business meetings there.’
An image of the actress with the paint-on white gown flashed into her head and Nell retorted, ‘This wasn’t a business meeting.’ Then, conscious that her comment might be interpreted as jealousy, she added quickly, ‘So you got home and read my letter.’
‘I did.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He flashed her an incredulous look. ‘You are sorry?’
Luiz stared at her. He was the one that ought to be apologising; to his way of thinking ignorance was no excuse. The thought of her coping with everything alone was like an icy hand in his chest.
He should have been there. He nearly had been there. If he hadn’t been too damned proud
to chase after her. For the first time in his life a woman had walked away from him and Luiz had not allowed himself to follow her. Instead he had nursed his resentment and tried to act—not well, as it happened—as though nothing had happened.
She shrugged and reached across to flick off the TV. ‘Well, it couldn’t have been the best coming-home present.’
His shuttered expression told her nothing, but it did not escape her notice that he didn’t claim to be delighted. Instead he said quietly, ‘It was always a possibility.’
‘A pretty remote one. There was really no need for you to hotfoot it here—your reputation is safe.’ The photo of him in New York had clearly been considered something of a scoop by the magazine that had identified Luiz as ‘the thirty-two-year-old Spanish billionaire bachelor who guards his privacy zealously.’
She supposed it was natural for someone in his position to want to avoid too much publicity.
‘I’m no more anxious to advertise this than you, so relax—I’m not about to blab about it to anyone, and anyway,’ she added, placing a hand on her still-flat stomach, ‘I’m not showing yet. Nobody suspects a thing, though Kate thinks I’ve taken the dieting too far.’
Luiz felt the anger lick through him. ‘You think that is why I am here? You think I am here to stop you selling a kiss-and tell tabloid story?’
His anger bewildered her. ‘Well, why else would you jump on the first plane?’
‘I have a private jet.’
‘Of course you do,’ she drawled, struggling to cloak her feelings behind a mask of cynical amusement.
‘I clearly have a better opinion of you than you do of me.’ Luiz stopped and rotated his head as if to relieve the tension in his shoulders, his ribcage lifting visibly as he inhaled deeply. Nell found she could not take her eyes off the thin white line of fury that outlined his finely sculpted sensual lips.
She could see he was furious though the why was still something of a mystery to her.
‘It did not even cross my mind,’ he continued in a voice that held an audible rasping tremor of emotion, ‘that you would demean yourself by making money out of a revenge story.’