The Return 0f Her Billionaire Husband (HQR Presents)

by MELANIE MILBURNE

Juliette tried to ignore the little stab of disappointment that jabbed her. ‘Will you be long?’

  He leaned down to press a light kiss to her lips. ‘Not long at all.’

  * * *

  Joe walked the streets of Paris, ruminating on how he had approached life’s challenges. Juliette’s comment about her parents always working had struck a chord with him. Ever since he was a young child, he had thrown himself into tasks, study, work, to escape the shadows of his childhood. The loss that had defined him since he’d taken his first breath. Being successful, wealthy and hard-working had given him a framework for his life that had never let him down until he’d met Juliette.

  But now he could feel the foundations of his personality undergoing a change, like a fine crack running through concrete. A gradual destabilisation of his identity as a man who needed no one.

  Who kept himself emotionally separate, distant. Safe.

  But the more time he spent with Juliette, the wider the cracks grew, allowing him to envisage the sort of man he could be if he was able to let go of the past. A man who could love and be loved in return. A man who would no longer need to keep his emotions locked down. A man who could embrace his vulnerabilities and face whatever life threw at him with emotional courage instead of cowardice.

  His feelings for Juliette were something he had tried so hard to ignore. And he’d been damn good at it so far. So good he’d convinced himself not to beg her to come back to him when she’d left. So good he’d not revealed things to her he should have revealed while they were together. Things that might well have made a difference if he hadn’t been so determined to hold himself apart, as he had done with every other relationship, both intimate and otherwise.

  But now his feelings were tiptoeing out of their hiding place, their tentative footsteps leaving soft little impressions on his heart that felt almost painful.

  He looked down at the wedding ring on his finger, the symbol of his commitment. A commitment he wasn’t entirely sure Juliette wanted from him any more. She had made no commitment other than to spend the next few days with him before she went back to London.

  Could he dare to hope to change her mind?

  * * *

  Juliette had showered and dressed and was putting the finishing touches to her make-up in preparation for the dinner when Joe returned to their hotel. She met his eyes in the mirror of the dressing table. ‘You’re cutting it fine. Isn’t the dinner at seven-thirty?’

  He gave a crooked smile. ‘It won’t take me long to get ready.’ He came up behind her and, slipping one hand inside his jacket pocket, retrieved a rectangular jewellery box. ‘I found something for you when I was out walking.’

  Juliette turned on the stool and raised her brows. ‘Found? Like on the footpath?’ She gave him a mock frown and waggled a reproving finger at him. ‘You’ve been spending money on me again.’

  He handed her the box. ‘And why shouldn’t I spoil you?’ He leaned down to press a light kiss to the top of her head. ‘Mmm... You smell beautiful.’

  Juliette lifted her face to meet his gaze. ‘It’s the same perfume I’ve always worn.’

  His fingers brushed beneath her chin in an idle movement, his eyes dark and lustrous. ‘I know. I smelt it everywhere in the house after you left.’ His mouth turned down at the corners as if the mention of that time caused him pain. He glanced at the jewellery box in her hands. ‘Go on. Open it.’

  Juliette looked down at the box and ran her fingertip over the gold embossed designer label on the black velvet lid. She prised open the lid and gasped when she saw a glittering diamond on a gold chain as fine as a thread and two matching diamond droplet earrings.

  ‘Oh, Joe, they’re gorgeous.’ She could only imagine how much they’d cost. It was the sort of jewellery designer where one didn’t shop if one needed to see a price tag before considering purchasing anything.

  ‘Here. Let me put the necklace on you.’ His voice had a gruff edge, his expression hard to read.

  She handed him the box and turned so she was facing the mirror again, watching him carefully remove the diamond from its plush white velvet bed. She shivered when his hands brushed the sensitive skin of her neck as he fastened the diamond in place. He handed her the earrings one at a time for her to insert into her earlobes. Then he rested his hands on her shoulders and met her eyes in the mirror.

  ‘You look stunning.’

  Juliette touched the diamond with her fingers, the earrings glinting like stars when she turned her head from side to side. ‘I hope I don’t lose one of them.’

  He gave a grim smile that wasn’t really a smile. ‘There are worse things to lose, cara.’ His deep tone echoed with a sadness that was almost palpable.

  She placed one of her hands over one of his, pressing down on it in an I-know-what-you-mean gesture. Her throat thickened, her chest tightened, her eyes glistened. ‘You’d better get dressed. It’s almost time to leave.’

  He looked as if he was about to say something—his brows moved closer together and his mouth opened as if in preparation to speak—but then seemed to change his mind. He gave her shoulders one last squeeze and turned away to get ready for the dinner.

  * * *

  The fundraising dinner was held in the ballroom of a private mansion within walking distance of their hotel. By the time Juliette and Joe arrived, the guests were making their way to their allotted tables after having drinks and finger food in the foyer. The room was decorated with simple and elegant arrangements of flowers and pastel-coloured paper rosettes and ribbons rather than less environment-friendly balloons.

  Joe seemed to know many of the guests and introduced her to several people on the way to their place at the huge table but she found it hard to remember all their names. She smiled and shook hands with everyone, quietly wondering if any of them knew the circumstances about her and Joe’s marriage.

  Juliette was seated next to Joe, with a woman on her left in her mid to late forties called Marisa, who was on the board of directors for the charity.

  ‘I’m so pleased to finally meet you,’ Marisa said with a warm smile. She glanced covertly towards Joe but he was talking to the man next to him and added in a lower tone, ‘We so appreciate what you and Joe have done for our charity. It’s really lovely too that you could make it here with him.’

  ‘Oh, well, it was really Joe who did all the fundraising. I’m afraid I had little to do with that at all.’

  Marisa placed a gentle hand on Juliette’s arm, her expression full of compassion. ‘You don’t have to explain. What you two went through is enough to tear apart any young couple. I should know. I had a stillbirth in between my first and third child. It was horrendous. I think of him every single day. We called him Alexandre.’

  Juliette looked into the other woman’s now shimmering hazel gaze and for the first time in months felt less alone and isolated. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Marisa’s mouth twisted. ‘He would have been ten years old last month. You never really get over it. You carry it with you. I was lucky I already had a child. I’m not sure I would have been game enough to try again if I hadn’t. But I’m so glad I did. My two girls are my biggest joy.’

  Juliette swallowed a tight lump in her throat. ‘How soon did you...try again?’ Her voice was as tentative as her thoughts on the subject of having another baby. It was something she had been thinking about ever since she’d walked into the nursery. The thoughts were mostly at the back of her mind, but lately they were creeping closer and closer. Close enough for her to imagine cradling a beautiful baby in her arms.

  A live baby.

  Joe’s baby.

  ‘Months and months,’ Marisa said. ‘I could barely look at my husband without bursting into floods of tears. But I’d always wanted a family and Henri did too. We decided it would probably help us heal if we tried again. And it worked. It doesn’t mean I don’t still grieve. I do,
and badly at times, and so does Henri. But the thing that helped Henri and me was setting up this foundation a couple of years after we lost Alexandre. Joe’s contribution has been invaluable. It’s meant we can do further important research as well as adding to our counselling services. It was so very kind and generous of him, when he was going through such a difficult time himself.’

  Guilt rained down on Juliette anew. Joe might not have visited their daughter’s grave but he had done what he could to stop such a tragedy from happening to others. Instead of trying to understand things from his point of view, she had pushed him away, rejected him, marched out of his life instead of sharing the burden of grief with him—without allowing him time to process his feelings, which were just as valid as hers.

  ‘He’s...a very kind and generous person,’ she said, her heart so full of love for Joe she found it hard to take her next breath. Love that had grown from the moment she’d met him. The first kiss, the first night together—the night where she had given herself to him so wholeheartedly. The night that had bound them together with a subsequent tragedy. Could they move past it?

  Marisa gently squeezed Juliette’s hand where it was resting on her lap. ‘You’ll know when it’s the right time to try again. You’ll probably always feel worried during any subsequent pregnancy—that’s entirely natural and unfortunately unavoidable. But the sheer joy of holding your baby at the end is worth it. There’s really nothing like it.’

  Juliette squeezed the other woman’s hand in return. ‘Thank you for sharing your experience with me. I’ve found it so hard to talk to anyone about it. Some people in my life think I should have moved on by now.’

  ‘Not Joe, though?’ Marisa frowned.

  ‘No, not Joe.’ Juliette sighed and continued. ‘I’ve been so hard on him. I was so caught up in how I was feeling that I didn’t realise he was feeling the same, only expressing it a different way.’

  Marisa nodded in empathy. ‘Tell me about it. I often was so angry at Henri for the most ridiculous things until I realised it was misplaced grief masquerading as anger. I could handle feeling angry. What I couldn’t handle was feeling profound gut-wrenching, inescapable grief. But eventually we worked through it and are stronger and closer for it.’

  Stronger and closer for it.

  Juliette mulled over that phrase as the more formal part of the dinner commenced. The award was finally announced and Joe led Juliette up to the podium. Press cameras went off and later a journalist requested an interview. Joe spoke briefly about the foundation and skilfully steered the journalist away from their personal situation. It made Juliette all the more uncertain of what he ultimately wanted from her. A fling before they divorced—or did he want her to stay with him for ever?

  Stronger and closer.

  Would those words one day define her and Joe? The desire to heal was so strong in her now. Stronger than her anger, which seemed to have dissipated like fog under the hopeful beam of sunshine. And she realised now a part of that healing included fulfilling her dream of having a family. Of being part of a loving partnership with her husband, raising children in a house where love and acceptance and nurture were at the forefront at all times.

  Time was reputed to be a great healer, but wasn’t love the best healer of all?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THEY WALKED BACK to their hotel in silence. Juliette had so many questions to ask, so many doubts to address, so many hopes to allow the freedom to grow. When they were back in their room she turned to look at him.

  ‘Joe? I wish I’d known about your work with the foundation. It means so much to me that you’ve tried to help so many others like us. I’m sorry I blocked contact with you.’

  He slipped off his jacket and hung it loosely over the back of a chair. His mouth was pressed flat for a moment and his eyes looked pained. ‘I was almost glad you blocked me. I was worried about upsetting you. Every time we talk about the baby...’ his throat rose and fell and his voice grew raspy ‘... I see what it does to you. It hurts you.’

  Tears sprouted in her eyes and she went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. ‘But it hurts me more not to talk about her. Losing Emilia will always upset me. It’s normal and unavoidable. We suffered a terrible loss. But I want to move on as best I can and that includes talking about how we’re feeling and when we’re feeling it.’

  Joe cupped one side of her face, his other hand going to rest on her hip. His gaze held hers in a tender lock that made her heart contract. ‘I felt so powerless and frustrated our baby died. Giving to the foundation was the only thing I could think to do to remove some of that powerlessness. I figured by donating and raising large sums of money for research it would stop it happening to someone else. It helped me process my grief by actually doing something positive. I didn’t want to be like my father, who was so prostrated by grief it took years for him to come out of it.’

  Juliette stroked his jaw, leaning into his strong frame, her body responding to his closeness with its usual leap of excitement. ‘I think you’re amazing to have done that. It shows the wonderful man you are. Generous and kind and compassionate.’

  He brought his head down so his mouth was just above hers. ‘Don’t make me out to be too much of a hero, tesoro. I have many failings.’

  Juliette linked her arms around his neck. ‘Kiss me, Joe. Make love to me.’

  He drew her closer, his arms a strong band around her body, his mouth coming down on hers in a kiss that was soft and yet deeply passionate. Sensations swept through her body—hot, urgent sensations that made her weak at the knees. He lifted her in his arms, carrying her as if she weighed little more than a child, and took her through to the bedroom. He lowered her feet to the floor in front of him, his hands already setting to work on her clothes. Juliette got to work on his and within moments they were both naked and lying, limbs entwined, on the bed.

  Joe’s mouth came down on hers, firmer this time, his tongue entering her mouth to tease hers into erotic play. Molten heat pooled in her core, need pulsating deep in her feminine flesh. His mouth moved from her lips to explore the soft skin below her ear, his tongue flickering against her sensitive flesh until she writhed with pleasure. He went lower to her décolletage, tracing the fine structure of her collarbone and down to the gentle swell of her breasts. The action of his mouth and tongue evoked tingles and prickles and needles of pleasure through her breasts. Her nipples tightened, her spine melted, her need escalated.

  His hand went to her hip, gliding to her bottom to tilt her towards him. ‘Dio mio, I want you so much.’ His voice was a low, deep, agonised groan. He kissed her again, his tongue tangoing with hers until she was mindless with desire. He lifted his mouth off hers and rolled away to get a condom.

  Juliette thought of telling him not to bother, that perhaps they should try for another baby instead of using protection. But she decided to keep that conversation for another time. A time when she had a better understanding of how he felt about her. He had never said he loved her. But she knew deep in her bones he cared about her. Cared more than he was probably willing to admit. And wasn’t she a bit the same? She hadn’t declared her love for him. Not yet.

  Joe applied a condom and came back to gather her close. His eyes were so dark with desire they looked densely black. ‘I’m glad you came with me to Paris.’

  Juliette pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. ‘I’m glad I came too. And, speaking of coming...’ She hooked one leg over his and gave him a come-hither look.

  ‘Leave it with me.’ He smiled a sexy smile and brought his mouth back down to hers. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  * * *

  During the night Joe reached again for Juliette, his arms gathering her close to his body. She made a soft murmuring sound and nestled closer, her head resting on his chest right where his heart beat a steady rhythm—but not for much longer. He could feel the quick uptake of his pulse as his body responded
to her silky skin, her smooth limbs, the soft waft of her warm breath. The scent of her filled his nostrils, the glide of one of her hands against his thigh making his breath catch. His groin swelled, heated, burned at the thought of her touching him. Desire rolling through him in ever-increasing waves.

  The moonlight coming in through the window cast her body in silvery light, making her look like an angel that had flown from heaven and lain down beside him. Heaven just about summed up what it felt like to hold her. To make love to her. To feel her body enclose his, to feel her respond to him hadn’t lessened his desire but rather fed it, nurtured it, expanded it.

  Her hand crept ever closer until she was encircling him with her fingers. ‘Are you awake?’ Her voice was a whisper that made his flesh tingle all over.

  He smothered a groan as his body throbbed under her touch. ‘I am now.’

  She glanced up at him with shining eyes, a cheeky smile curving her lips. ‘Do you want me to stop touching you?’

  Joe felt like he would die if she stopped touching him. He rolled her over to her back and leaned over her with his weight propped on his elbows. ‘How about I touch you to even this up a bit?’

  He cupped one of her breasts, rolling his thumb over her nipple, watching her response play out on her features, in the catch of her breath, the parting of her lips, her gaze flicking to his mouth. His hand went down from her breast to the tiny cave of her belly button and then beyond.

  ‘Oh...’ Juliette gave a breathless gasp, her legs folding outwards to welcome his touch. ‘Oh...’

  Joe moved down her body, using his lips and tongue to bring forth her earth-shattering response—a response that never failed to thrill him. Making love with her was on another scale from anything he had experienced before. A scale he had never reached with anyone else. Her response to him touched him at the centre of his being. Making him feel every movement of her body, every stroke and glide of her fingers, every soft press of her mouth, as if his body’s nerves had been tuned to another setting. A higher, richer, more pleasurable setting.