‘Maya, querida! How are you today?’ Moving round the counter with all the grace of a much slimmer man, he enveloped her in a fierce hug. ‘Is everything all right? I am surprised to see you when I know the smell of coffee makes you queasy in your condition.’
‘I couldn’t let a small thing like that stop me visiting you.’ Maya smiled, then realised Diego was examining her a little too closely, concernedly shaking his head. ‘You have been crying, querida…what has happened? Sit down and tell me everything.’
Her friend ordered Maria to bring her a banana milkshake—for the baby!—and they sat opposite each other at a newly cleaned table, under the eye-catching poster of a flamenco dancer dressed in sultry red and black decorating the wall behind them.
Having only just begun her story, Maya glanced round at the sound of the bell jangling above the door and sucked in a shocked breath. It was Blaise. She blinked hard to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, but she’d know that flawless azure gaze, the carved jaw and the chin with the sexy little crease down the centre anywhere. Her insides mimicked the same intense flamenco as the dancer in the poster.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, and her mouth felt dry as a sun-baked beach at the height of summer. ‘I thought you were in New York?’
‘I came to find you,’ he replied hoarsely, for long moments just standing still and surveying her. Maya knew her gaze must match his for sheer hunger as she stared back at him. He looked every inch the successful Broadway playwright, dressed in a stylish mackintosh, the gold in his hair glistening with damp from the rain.
‘I went to your old place and a neighbour told me you’d moved. She wouldn’t give me your new address, but she told me that a friend of yours owned this coffee bar and would probably give you a message for me.’
‘This is Diego,’ Maya murmured, her glance shifting away from his for the briefest second towards the older man sitting opposite her. ‘This is his place.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Moving towards their table, Blaise stuck out his hand.
The Spaniard made no move to take it. Instead he abruptly pushed himself to his feet, his expression definitely suspicious. ‘And you are…?’
‘Blaise Walker.’
‘So you are the man that—’
‘It’s all right, Diego.’ With a pleading look Maya managed to still what he had been going to say next. ‘I’m sure Blaise isn’t staying long…are you?’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I need to talk to you, Maya…however long it takes.’
‘I need to talk to you too. So maybe—maybe we should go back to my place? We can get a bus just down the road…’
‘My car’s parked round the corner.’
Feeling queasy, as well as apprehensive, Maya got slowly to her feet. With trembling fingers she attempted to refasten the buttons on her coat, but quickly gave up and left it open. Whatever she and Blaise had to say to each other, it wasn’t a conversation to be aired in public. Yet her stomach was fluttering wildly with nerves at the mere thought of being alone with him again. Not only that but probably having to say goodbye to him a second painful time after he’d said what he had to say and then left.
‘Diego, I’ll give you a call later on tonight, okay?’
‘Make sure you do,’ the Spaniard replied gruffly, now regarding Blaise with not just suspicion but also antagonism in his eyes. ‘I am not happy about how you looked when you came in, and I want to hear what you were going to tell me and make sure everything is okay.’
‘It will keep…and I’ll be fine. I promise.’
Saying nothing, his expression implacable, Blaise held the door open for her to precede him out into the rain.
She’d lost a little weight, he saw with a flicker of alarm. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, the smooth, perfect skin stretched over them like pale satin, making her spellbinding emerald eyes seem huge and her luminous beauty even more incandescent. But so many feelings, sensations and fears kept hitting him that it was difficult for Blaise to stay with one train of thought for long. Ever since he’d let her go the only thought that had been and still was constant was that he missed her. He missed her so much that it was as if he’d been inflicted with some agonising chest wound that wouldn’t heal. He’d called himself all kinds of imbecile for doing what he’d done, but insults and fury hadn’t helped. Not when there was still the same underlying fear that daily ate away at his soul—a corrosive terror that almost paralysed him and stopped him from doing what his heart all but begged and pleaded with him to do.
When he’d seen that article about the art auction in the newspaper it had finally galvanised him into action…finally told him it was time to conquer his fears and make the one decision he needed to make above all others.
His gaze flicked interestedly round the recently painted living room of Maya’s new flat, noting the more comfortable furnishings and furniture and the sense of space that had been so severely lacking in her previous tiny abode.
During the car journey to get here she had haltingly told him about the opportunity that had come up to move to a bigger place—how she had eagerly grasped it with both hands and how Diego had helped her move. Having met the surly Spaniard who owned the coffee bar Maya liked to frequent, Blaise silently owned to feeling quite put out that she was friends with such a man…a man who had looked at him as if he’d like to punch a fist right in the centre of his gut. He smirked grimly.
A couple of pretty cards wishing her happiness in her new home graced the magnolia-painted mantelpiece, he noticed, fighting to gain control over the growing feelings of jealousy and possessiveness that poured through him. Who had sent her the cards? Was she seeing someone? Sitting quietly on the sofa across the floor from where he stood, her long legs encased in sheer black hosiery and her hands calmly folded in the lap of her deep burgundy skirt, Maya met his glance steadily, with no hint of the strong emotion that currently tormented Blaise.
‘What made you sell the portrait?’ he heard himself demand, his heart thudding because it wasn’t the first thing he wanted to do. Even now he had to wrestle with the almost overwhelming urge to just haul her up from where she sat and kiss her senseless.
Her emerald gaze remained steady. ‘You heard about the sale?’
‘How could I not? It made the news in most of the papers, I should think.’
‘I needed the money.’ Her slender shoulders lifted in what looked like a resigned shrug. ‘It was as simple as that.’
‘You needed the money before, if the place you lived in was any indication!’ Blaise couldn’t contain the impatience in his voice. ‘Why decide to sell it now?’
‘Because there’s not just myself to think about any more.’
‘You’re seeing someone else?’
Everything inside him constricted with despair, fury and tension. Why had he left it so long to contact her after she left? Why? Why? Why?
‘I’m not seeing anyone else.’ Sighing, she rose slowly to her feet, her hands linking restlessly together. ‘I’m pregnant, Blaise. I’m afraid I made a mistake about it being a safe time.’
‘Pregnant?’ The word filled his mind like a snowstorm, blotting out all other thoughts.
‘That’s why I needed to sell the portrait. I’m keeping the baby, whatever you decide to do, and I didn’t want him or her brought up in an atmosphere of tension and uncertainty like I was. I wanted to give my baby a better start and a more secure future.’
‘You’re going to have a baby? My baby?’ Again the knowledge deluged him, making it almost impossible to think with any clarity. Then came the terrible fear that he couldn’t possibly be a proper father to the child—not if there was the remotest chance that he would turn out like his own father. But in the next instant that unhappy thought died away, and Blaise started to feel genuine excitement and joy pulse through his bloodstream. It took two to make a baby, and ideally two to be his parents and take care of him. Whatever happened, he and Maya were in this together.
>
‘There’s no doubt that the baby is yours, Blaise.’ Her teeth nibbled a little anxiously at her soft lower lip. ‘I’ve been with no one else.’
‘I’m not suggesting anything like that.’ He frowned. ‘Are you okay? Have you seen a doctor?’
‘Both me and the baby are doing just fine.’
‘But the portrait…it meant everything to you. I can’t believe you sold it. It was a little piece of your father, you said.’
‘At the end of the day it’s just a painting…if a valuable one. I was shocked to learn just how valuable. But I’ll use the money wisely… I’m sure—I’m sure if my dad were alive he’d want me to use it to help take care of his grandchild.’
‘Were you going to let me know about the baby?’
A shadow of hurt flickered in her eyes. ‘Of course… But I knew you were in New York with the play, and that I’d have to wait until you came back to tell you face to face.’
‘How far along are you?’
‘Nine weeks.’
Blaise rubbed his hand round the back of his neck, thinking hard. Impatiently he pulled his tie loose from his shirt collar so that he could breathe easier. It wasn’t every day that a man who had been contemplating a decidedly lonely future learned that he was to become a father, and it took some sinking in to get used to the idea. But the more he contemplated it, the more he sensed a wild exhilaration and sense of purpose gathering momentum inside him, instead of fear and apprehension consuming him.
‘So…I’m to become a father?’
‘Are you angry?’
‘Are you serious? How can I be angry when this must be the most incredible piece of news I’ve ever heard?’ In front of Maya now, Blaise caught hold of her worryingly chilled hands and held them, infusing them with the heat from his own.
‘You mean it?’
‘Yes, I mean it! Though I understand why you have your doubts. I’m not proud of the way I behaved, Maya. The way I so easily let you leave and made no attempt to stop you or contact you afterwards.’
Saying nothing, she simply listened.
‘I would never have expected you to raise the baby on your own,’ he continued, his voice hoarse with regret that she might have believed that. ‘I would always have supported him—and you.’ Lifting those cold, slender hands to his lips, he tenderly kissed each one in turn.
‘So what exactly are you telling me, Blaise? That you want joint custody when the time comes?’
‘No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.’
‘Then—’
Letting go of her hands, Blaise urgently encircled Maya’s slender waist to impel her hard against him. For a moment his senses were saturated by her warmth and those delicious feminine curves, and the unmatched feeling of holding her in his arms again almost overwhelmed him.
‘I was such a fool to let you go…’ He dragged the pad of his thumb over her plump lower lip, sensing heat inflame him as he saw it quiver. ‘I had my reasons…but in the cold light of day they seemed preposterous when I started to examine them. But before I tell you about that, I need to ask you something.’
‘What is it?’
‘Will you marry me?’
Her expression was genuinely shocked, as if that was the very last thing she’d expected Blaise to ask her. He could only blame himself for that, he mused bitterly.
‘But you’re not a man who wants commitment.’ She was looking distinctly puzzled. ‘You adore women but haven’t found one yet that you want to spend the rest of your life with. You made it clear that the possibility of us staying together long-term wasn’t even on the cards…that we could enjoy a brief affair but nothing more—least of all marriage.’
‘I was wrong. I was wrong because I did meet someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with…you, Maya. I used to trot out that rubbish because I couldn’t get past the fear that if I committed to a woman I would turn out like my father…become bitter and resentful and harm her in some way.’
‘Harm her? Why would you believe that?’
‘Because that’s what my father did to my mother, and I seem to have inherited his propensity to lose my temper.’ He dropped his head for a moment, acutely uncomfortable at finally admitting what he’d been most afraid of.
‘Everyone has a temper, Blaise. Even the most seemingly docile people… It’s normal…human.’ Gently, Maya touched her hand to his cheek and made him look at her. ‘It doesn’t mean that they’re going to be violent.’
‘My mother said to me once that she prayed I wouldn’t turn out like my father. She loved him passionately, but she was afraid of him too. He’d always been hell to live with. Growing up with such a volatile man was a nightmare sometimes. I never forgot what she said to me. Every time I sensed rage in me I’d wonder—was that a sign? Was I going the same way as him? I even started to jeopardise the new play I’ve been writing because I wasn’t fully exploring the lead character’s motivation for leaving home. It wasn’t just about him trying to make a dream of happiness come true—his father was violent too. That’s what ultimately drove him away.’
‘It must have been very painful for you all these years—not being able to tell anyone how you felt. I’ve learned that keeping our fears to ourselves is never the answer, Blaise. They just get bigger and bigger if we don’t bring them out into the open and see them for what they really are. They’re just ideas we get about ourselves because of something that happens. They’re not the truth. I thought similarly to you. I thought because my father behaved like he did, and put all his friends before me, that must mean I was unlovable. When Sean deceived me with another woman it confirmed that view. I felt totally rejected and worthless. I thought our whole relationship had been a lie, based on my fantasies about a happy future together. But then I met you, Blaise, and for the first time I really and truly fell for someone.’
‘Well, let me tell you now, the notion that you must be unlovable is totally ludicrous!’
Fastening his hands either side of her curvaceous hips, Blaise gave her a brief, hungry, hard kiss on the mouth. When he lifted his head again he was beaming.
‘You are the most lovable woman I’ve ever known…that’s ultimately why I couldn’t resist you. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you that it’s true… It was my own stupid fault, but you broke my heart when you left, Maya.’ Lightly he swept back a stray ebony strand of hair where it glanced against her cheek. ‘I haven’t been able to work, eat or sleep since you went. I’m sure everyone in New York thought I was a miserable git!’
‘No…’ Softly but emphatically the word left Maya’s lips. Incredibly, she was regarding him just as Jane had described the way her husband looked at her—as if he’d hung the moon.
‘You’re not morose or violent or any of those dark things, Blaise… You’re just a man who’s been hurt. That’s hardly a crime.’
‘Well, I’m certainly no hero—not the one you deserve. But I am a man who loves you very much and can’t live without you.’
‘I didn’t mean to break your heart.’ Maya sighed. ‘I only wanted to try and help mend it.’
‘Marry me,’ he said again, dropping a tender kiss at the side of her mouth. ‘Marry me and put me out of my misery once and for all.’
She could hardly believe the urgency in his loving demand. It seemed like a dream when Maya had more than half expected him to reject her all over again after he heard about the baby. She was gratified that he had at last told her why he had let her walk away. Not because he didn’t want her…but because he was afraid if he properly committed to a relationship he might end up hurting her physically, just like his father had done to his mother. She could understand how having a fear like that must have haunted him.
The weeks without him had been some of the most despairing Maya had ever spent. All she’d been able to do was think about him, remembering with longing how passionately they had made love and aching down to the very marrow in her bones to see him again. Her yearning had been m
ultiplied when she’d found out she was carrying his child. Now he had asked her to marry him, and there really was only one answer she could give him.
‘I love you, Blaise… I’m not a bit afraid that you would ever hurt me or our child, and of course I’ll marry you.’
‘Wait here.’
‘Why?’
She watched in vague alarm as he swiftly left the room. Seconds later she heard the front door open. With her heart helplessly knocking against her ribs, Maya waited anxiously for his return. When he came, he was carrying something square, carefully wrapped in brown paper. He placed it into her hands. The rain had dampened his hair again, and she longed to thread her fingers through the thick gold strands and bring his face down to hers for a long, lingering kiss. Stifling the urge, she stared at the package he’d given her.
‘Open it. It’s for you,’ he urged softly. ‘Think of it as an early wedding present.’
Carefully tearing some of the paper packaging away, Maya gasped when she saw what it was…her portrait. Confused as well as elated, she caught her lip between her teeth to stop her emotion from overwhelming her. ‘You bought the portrait…to give to me?’
‘I knew something had happened when I saw it was up for sale. You would never have sold it unless there was some absolutely compelling reason.’ Relieving her of the picture, Blaise laid it against the couch and came straight back to her. ‘There’s only one place where that portrait belongs, and that’s with you, sweetheart.’
Reaching out, Maya put her hands against his chest, her expression wide-eyed and shocked.
‘But you paid a fortune for it, Blaise! So much money that just the thought of it makes my head spin!’
‘If I’d spent ten thousand times that amount it wouldn’t be as valuable as you are to me, my darling.’
‘I don’t know what to say… I’m so overwhelmed that I think I’m going to—’
Blaise’s lips covered hers, his tongue slipping hotly into her mouth. He pressed her body close into his even as the tears in her eyes spilled over onto her cheeks. Crying and kissing him at the same time, Maya knew her heart was so full she could hardly comprehend so much joy was possible. Her legs went weak as a newborn lamb’s as his deepening kiss and hungrily searching hands on her body made her melt and yearn and ache to hold him closer, without the barrier of clothing.
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