The Spaniard's Pregnant Bride

by Maisey Yates

  “I told you not to come here,” he said, his tone hard.

  “And I didn’t listen. Because I am not your servant, I am not a child and I am not a pet. Which means I will do as I please.”

  “Yes, you often do. And look at what a spectacular position it has put you in so far.”

  She growled, crossing the space between them and frowning when she looked down at his hands. “You’re hurt,” she said, reaching down and taking hold of him, brushing her thumb near his cracked, bleeding knuckles.

  “I’m fine.” He pulled away from her, the tenderness she demonstrated toward him strangling him.

  “Cristian. You’re being ridiculous.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know that anyone has ever called me ridiculous before.”

  “Obviously somebody should have. Maybe you wouldn’t be quite so nonfunctional if they had.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you are quite ridiculous, Allegra? Because from where I’m standing it seems you could benefit from it as well.”

  “Only you.” She crossed her arms, tilting her chin upward. “Only ever you.”

  “That’s right. It has only ever been me. And don’t forget it.” He watched as the erotic truth of his words washed over her, coloring her cheeks a delicate rose.

  His stomach tightened, arousal tearing at him like a wild animal. He gritted his teeth and walked past her, heading into the unruined portion of the castillo.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ALLEGRA TOOK A deep breath and went after Cristian. She was careful walking through the piles of stone, broken wood and burned-out furniture, making her way into the portion of the structure that stood intact.

  “Cristian,” she said.

  He turned, his expression fierce, and her heart stopped completely. He had ash and soot smeared over his face, over his bare chest. He looked... Well, he looked completely uncivilized. Stripped down like this, sweat on his brow, his knuckles bloody from the work he’d been doing, from digging through hard, sharp rubble, he looked like a man who’d been out all day fighting for his life.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, softening her tone. “You could have a whole crew out here at least helping you do this. Why are you here by yourself? Where is your staff? Why didn’t you want me to come?”

  “This is mine,” he said, his tone hard as the rock he’d just been digging in. “It is my legacy, and it is yet more fitting now that it’s been reduced to ash. It is no one else’s to sort through.”

  “Why?” she asked. “It’s a house...it...it...”

  “It’s more than that. We’re a titled family, aristocracy, and this—keeping this—has always been one of the most important things. And it has crumbled beneath my watch. For centuries it stood. And now...here it is, reduced.”

  “It isn’t your fault,” she said.

  “I don’t even care if it is. This is nothing but centuries of corruption left to stand for far too long. I only wish it had all burned.”

  And yet he’d come right away. Had spent the day digging through it all with his bare hands. So regardless of what he said, she knew it wasn’t completely true.

  “Why is it corrupt?” she asked.

  “Do you even have to ask that question? You’ve heard about my father. A drunk. Debauched. He only married my mother because he got her with child. I think it was a miracle he hadn’t had about a hundred bastard children by then.” He laughed. “I suppose I’m much more like him than I like to think.”

  “How?”

  “The woman pregnant with my illegitimate child has to ask?”

  Shame lashed her, and rage, all at the same time. “You said yourself you hadn’t been with any women since your wife. I hardly think that makes you a legendary womanizer. Three years of celibacy and an unintended pregnancy hardly make you...make you him.”

  “It’s all in me,” he said, his tone hard. “I’ve yet to see much evidence to the contrary.”

  “What? What is all your dark muttering actually about? You talk about debauchery and illegitimate children and all of that, but we’ve managed to work all of this out so far. I don’t know what you think you do that’s like him. Or what you’re so afraid of.”

  “Because I’ve hidden it from you,” he said. “Be grateful.”

  Then he turned and made his way up the curving staircase, leaving her alone in the quiet, empty chamber. There was no sound beyond his heavy footfalls, growing fainter as he moved farther away.

  Coming here had seemed like a good idea when she’d first thought of it, now she was doubting it.

  No. You’re doing it again. You’re shrinking. You can’t do it. You won’t be silent. Not this time.

  She took a breath. She had come here because she was determined to break down that wall he’d thrown up between them, not just in Hawaii, but in the years before, because she knew that’s what this was. What it had always been.

  She was starting to get all the way down to the truth, and she wouldn’t stop now. But that meant that she couldn’t protect herself. It meant that she was going to have to reveal herself to him. And that...well, that was terrifying.

  But she was starting to realize a few things. She didn’t want a temporary marriage. She didn’t want a taste of a life with him. Didn’t want her child growing up in separate homes, reading about his father going out with other women.

  She wanted their lives to be one. She wanted to be with him always.

  Because she loved him. She loved him so much it hurt.

  She couldn’t say when that had happened. It wasn’t recent. She’d only just discovered it, but she had the feeling it had always been there. A part of her from the moment she’d first set eyes on him. A part of her as she’d felt enraged by his mocking gaze, because it had nothing to do with the sort of feelings she had for him.

  A part of her as she’d stared at his wedding ring, sick over the fact he belonged to another woman.

  And most certainly a part of her as she’d watched him descend the staircase that night at the masked ball.

  Her heart had known. Her body had known. It was her brain that hadn’t wanted to know.

  But she knew now, all of her.

  And tonight, she wasn’t going to hide it. She was going to show him.

  * * *

  The castillo was still without power, so when darkness fell, Cristian lit the candles that were situated in Gothic candelabras, casting the entire room in a golden glow. He supposed, post-fire, he should be a bit more reluctant to introduce yet more flame, but in some ways he felt like he was daring the universe to burn the rest of it down.

  He looked around the sitting area, at the wide, low chaise longue in the corner, then over at the bar that was situated across the room. He wondered if this was his father’s personal stash of alcohol. If so, it hadn’t been touched in a long time.

  Either way it hadn’t, really. No one but staff had been to the castillo in years. His mother had fled as soon as possible, and he had done the same. Why wouldn’t they? This had been the site of their terror. Of their pain.

  Interesting to be in it now, testing its power, its weight.

  And, in a moment, tasting its alcohol.

  He moved across the room to the bar, taking a look at the various different poisons on offer. He settled on a very old bottle of whiskey that he imagined was of a superior quality. He drank his first glass like it was nothing more than water, relishing the burn as it slid all the way down into his gut. Then, he poured another.

  The door to the bedroom opened and he looked up, just in time to see a petite figure slipping in.

  His hands suddenly felt unsteady and he set the glass back down on the bar.

  It was Allegra.

  Her shoulders were bare, her figure constricted by the incredibly tight bodice of the dress she was wearing, her breasts spilling up over the top of the midnight-colored fabric. The skirt billowed out around her, covering her shapely legs, much to his dissatisfaction.

  Her dark hair was loose a
nd curling, teasing him with glimpses of her skin every time she moved.

  But it was her face that truly held him captive. She was wearing a gold mask, reminiscent of the one she had worn that night in Venice. Her mouth painted the same lush color as the gown, giving him the impression that were he to kiss those lips, they would leave him intoxicated as though he’d taken in a whole bottle of wine.

  “What are you doing?”

  She lifted one bare shoulder. “I suppose if you have to ask, I’m not doing it right.”

  She put one arm behind her back, and the bodice of her dress loosened, then slipped and fell around her hips. She stepped out of the billowing fabric like a nymph stepping out of the water. She was completely naked underneath, her body slightly dusky in the dimness.

  Then she took a step forward, and another, until the golden glow touched her skin, illuminating her, bathing her in light.

  It curved around her soft body, wrapping itself around her stomach, the swell of her breasts. Exaggerating each dip and hollow as she moved toward him.

  “Do you still want me to go?” she asked.

  He ground his teeth together, so hard he was sure he was in danger of cracking them. “No,” he said.

  Her Bordeaux-colored lips turned up slightly. “Well, that’s good.”

  “Come here,” he said, feeling like his control was slipping away from him. As though he had lost his hold on absolutely everything.

  “Not quite yet,” she said, her words slightly unsteady. “I need you... I need you to take off your mask, Cristian.”

  “You’re the one who’s wearing a mask, Allegra.”

  “Yes, but I’m naked. For you.” She spread her arms wide. “And that’s the hardest thing for me. To let you know just how much I want you. To stand before you like this, knowing that you might reject me.”

  “Never.”

  “How am I to know that? You’re as hidden from me as the first day we were together.” She closed the distance between them, reaching out, tracing his face with her fingertips. Starting at the edge of his brow, drifting slowly down his cheek, to the corner of his lips. “I want to see you. Really see you.”

  He reached up, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, holding her hand still. “You don’t want to see me without my mask, Allegra.”

  “That isn’t for you to decide. It’s one thing for everyone to ignore my wishes when I’m sitting there bottling them up. When I am not making it clear that I know my mind, that I know what I want. But you don’t get to decide now. I want you. I want all of you.”

  “What if everything underneath the mask is ugly? What if all you find is a monster?”

  She stared at him, those dark eyes fathomless. “Then I guess I get the monster.”

  That made something wounded howl inside of him, its pain echoing through his tattered, empty soul. “You can’t mean that.”

  “Stop it,” she said, her tone fierce. “Stop telling me what I want, stop telling me what I mean. Stop telling me who I am. I’ll tell you who I am. I am Allegra Valenti, and I want you. All of you. I want you to stop being so controlled all the time. If I test you, then I expect you to prove it, Cristian. Push me.” She tightened her hold on his face, curving her fingers around to the back of his neck, her nails digging into his skin. “Push us both, dammit.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath, doing his best to keep his hold on what was left of his control. He could hear what she was demanding, he understood, but he knew that she didn’t. He was everything dark, everything wrong, he brought out the worst in everyone and everything that touched him. And if he let that black nightmare spill out onto her, then he would ruin her as well.

  It seemed impossible here, though. A strange thing, since his demons shouted all the louder in the castillo. But with the golden light of the candles glowing on her skin, it seemed like there was no way darkness could ever touch her.

  A neat trick of the flame, to be sure. But one he was ready to believe.

  “Take me,” she said, her voice a husky whisper, laden with desire, with an intensity that matched his own.

  She fit him that way, she always had. It was why he had rejected her from the first, why he had decided she was a problem. Why he had rejected the feelings that burned inside him every time she was near. Far better to marry a woman who he found pleasant, attractive, but not overwhelming.

  Allegra could never be anything but. Not for him.

  But with that urgent demand on her lips, he could do nothing but comply. He reached up, grabbing hold of her hips, his blunt fingertips digging into soft flesh. He was so hard for her he ached. He wanted to be inside of her now, buried so deep he wouldn’t be able to tell where he ended and she began. Surrounded completely by her. By her softness, by her scent.

  She said she wanted him. She said she wanted all of him. Well, after tonight, she would either run away from him, or she would be bound to him forever. Either way, she would realize her mistake. Either way, it would be too late.

  If he was a good man, he would stop now.

  But no matter how many layers of stability he had attempted to wrap himself in, no matter how decent a man he fashioned himself to be, the truth was, there was nothing but darkness beneath it all. And if she wanted him laid bare, then darkness was what she would get.

  He pressed his forehead to hers, holding her body at a slight distance from his. “You want me unmasked, Allegra?” he asked, his voice sounding frayed, unraveled. “You want all of me?”

  “Yes,” she said, the word tremulous.

  “You want me to hold you down and spend all of my darkness into you?”

  He wanted her to say yes, as badly as she needed to say no. He had destroyed everyone he’d ever cared for, from the moment of his birth. He had always imagined that destructive power as a shadow where his soul should be. One that reached out and wrapped inky fingers around those who touched him and dragged them into the abyss.

  It had been so with his father. His mother. His wife.

  It would be no different with Allegra, and still he asked her for this.

  She looked up at him, her dark eyes luminous. “If that’s what you have for me. That’s what I was made to take.”

  Her words reached down deep, filled those empty spaces inside him. He had no right to such comfort. Had no right to find such healing power in those words. Not when he could give her nothing in return.

  “Stand there,” he said, releasing his hold on her and moving away from her. He began to work at the buttons on his shirt, casting it onto the ground, then moved his hands to his pants. He kept his eyes on her as he slowly worked his belt through the loops before moving to the closure on his slacks. He undid them, drawing the zipper down slowly. And she watched his every movement with wide eyes. There was something perversely intoxicating about seeing the way she watched him. Seeing the way she anticipated a glimpse at the most masculine part of him. That member that was hard and aching only for her. She was as desperate for it as he was for her. She wanted him, even though she shouldn’t. Even though he would be the ruin of her.

  He gritted his teeth against the rising pleasure that was threatening to choke him. How he wanted to ruin her. To kiss her until that dark lipstick was smeared all over her face, all over his. To sift his fingers through her hair until it was a tangle. To hold tightly to her hips until he left marks from his touch. To pound into her until she cried out, until her voice was husky from sounding her pleasure.

  He pushed his pants and underwear down his hips, kicking them both to the side. She licked her lips slowly, and he knew for a fact that there was one place he wanted her to leave lipstick behind more than any other.

  “Get on your knees for me,” he said, his tone hard and firm in the empty stillness of the room.

  She didn’t hesitate. If she was confused, it only flashed through her eyes for a moment. Then, there was nothing but obedience.

  What a sight she was. Such a beauty kneeling on the stone floor in front of him. An offering h
e didn’t deserve.

  “You are quite obedient now, aren’t you, Allegra?” he asked.

  “I told you. I want it all. I want everything. I want you. I want to give this to you.”

  “You should never offer gifts to a man like me. I will take until you have nothing left.”

  “Then you will,” she said.

  He gritted his teeth. He wanted to push her. Wanted to push her to a point where she resisted. Wanted to see that spark, that challenge.

  He moved closer to her, taking hold of her hair, holding her head steady. He looked down at her, the golden mask glittering on her face, her lips parted in anticipation. “Take me into your mouth,” he commanded.

  She kept her eyes on him as she leaned forward, as she touched the tip of her tongue to the head of his arousal. Fire streaked through him, as potent as the flame that had burned the castillo to the ground, threatening to raze him to the earth as well.

  He held on to her tightly, under the guise of controlling her movements, but the moment she took him into her mouth all the way, the moment he was enveloped by her wet heat, the soft suction pushing him to the brink, he knew she was the one in command.

  He was nothing but a captive, the most vulnerable part of himself a slave to the sensations she was lavishing upon him.

  She raised her hands, soft palms pressed against his thighs as she continued to torment him with her wicked mouth. Her tongue slid over the length of him, dark eyes crashing into his as she traced his shape before moving her hand to cup him gently.

  Allegra. Allegra touching him like this, tasting him like this. It was enough to bring him to his knees. Enough to send him over the edge completely. He held more tightly to her hair, using her to anchor him to the earth, to keep himself from losing it altogether. He was close. So close. And he didn’t want it to end like this.

  He wrenched her away from him, a harsh groan on his lips as the pleasure was lost to him. “Enough,” he said. “That is not how I want things to end.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” she said. The minx.

  “I need to be inside you,” he said. “Very deep inside your tight, wet body, while you beg me to take you.”