by Sarah Morgan
He was also worried that she was so pale and tired. Had she been pale before Julieta had made her announcement? His mind scanned the past. She’d been tired since her head injury and he frowned suddenly as he recalled the number of times he’d seen her curl up on the bed and fall asleep.
What if there was something wrong with her? What if she was ill?
He felt a sudden flash of foreboding.
Increasing his speed, he arrived at the estancia in record time but when he pulled into the courtyard, Faith still didn’t wake. With a soft curse, Raul sprang from the car and threw his keys to a waiting member of staff. ‘Call the doctor. I want him at the Beach House in the next ten minutes.’
‘It’s two in the morning—’
‘I know what time it is.’ Unaccustomed to having his orders questioned, Raul threw the man a warning glare. ‘Just call him.’ Then he strode round to the passenger side and scooped Faith into his arms.
Her head flopped against his shoulder and she stirred for a moment but didn’t really wake up.
Trying not to think about how slender and impossibly fragile she was, Raul strode along the path into the Beach House and laid her on the bed.
Staring down at her, he hesitated for a moment and then bent down and gently pulled off her shoes. Deciding that the dress didn’t look too comfortable either, he slid it down her body with the ease of experience and then wished he hadn’t because she wasn’t wearing a bra and her pale, rose-tipped breasts seemed to be crying out for his attention.
Teeth gritted, Raul grabbed the cover and pulled it over her semi-naked form, the unfamiliar degree of self-sacrifice leaving his body aching with raw sexual frustration. If this was how it felt to commit an unselfish act, he brooded, then he certainly wouldn’t be making a habit of it.
As he tucked her in, Faith stirred and opened her eyes. ‘Did I sleep all the way home? Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘Not very exciting for you.’
‘I’m fine,’ Raul lied smoothly, relieved to see that her cheeks had a little more colour. Perhaps she wasn’t ill. She probably was just tired, he assured himself. After all, he wasn’t allowing her much sleep at night, was he? And they were indulging in an unusual degree of physical activity.
And her mind was obviously working along the same lines because she gave him a slow, sleepy smile. ‘Aren’t you coming to bed?’
For a moment he was sorely tempted and then he remembered that the doctor would be arriving soon. To reduce the temptation to slide under the cover and bring some colour to her cheeks by alternative means, Raul retreated to the chair in the farthest corner of the bedroom. ‘I’m not coming to bed yet.’
That statement was so out of character that it should have roused at least a question from Faith, but she simply looked at him. ‘All right. Well, don’t get too tired.’
Raul looked at her in exasperation.
Was that all she was going to say? What had happened to the probing and the questions? What had happened to the talking?
Feeling as though the whole situation was sliding out of his control, Raul decided to just give her the answer she hadn’t asked for. ‘I’m waiting for the doctor to come.’
‘The doctor? Are you ill?’ Her eyes widened and she sat up suddenly, her expression anxious.
‘Not me,’ he ground out, hastily averting his eyes from her breasts. ‘You. I’ve called the doctor for you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re always tired.’
‘I’m fine,’ she began and he interrupted her with an impatient glance.
‘You are not fine. You had a head injury and I want to know that these bouts of tiredness are a normal part of the recovery process.’
She looked at him with incredulity. ‘It’s the middle of the night, Raul!’
‘I don’t care,’ he responded in a driven tone. ‘I want a doctor to look at you.’
‘I’m fine—’
‘Stop saying you’re fine. You’re not fine. For a start you’re not behaving like yourself.’
She pulled the covers up to her chin. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
Did he have to spell it out? He rose to his feet and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘This evening—you were upset. About Julieta.’ He saw the sudden wariness in her eyes and his mouth tightened. ‘So why aren’t you trying to talk about it? You always talk if something is upsetting you.’
‘I thought I was supposed to phone a girlfriend for that.’ Her tone was light and Raul tolerated the gentle dig because he was well aware that he deserved it.
He wasn’t good at talking about things.
Even now he didn’t want to have this conversation, but he knew he couldn’t afford not to have it. ‘I had no idea Julieta was pregnant,’ he confessed in a raw tone. ‘Or I would never have invited them to join us.’
‘You can’t protect me from everyone who is pregnant,’ Faith said quietly and he gave a growl of frustration.
‘That is not an answer. I want to know how you’re feeling.’
‘No, you don’t, you know you don’t. You hate it when I try and talk about feelings.’ She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes with a shaking hand. ‘You just thought you ought to ask or I’ll accuse you of not caring.’
His tension levels soaring through the roof, Raul removed his jacket and dropped it over the back of the nearest chair. ‘I do care. The reason I don’t want to know is not because I don’t care but because I feel guilty,’ he confessed and a thick, heavy silence descended on the room.
Now she’d have to question him, he thought grimly and he stared at her in silent expectation, waiting for her to spill everything as she always did. Or probe him for how he felt.
She did neither. ‘You have nothing to feel guilty about, Raul.’
‘How can you say that?’
‘Because it’s true. As you once told me, you were completely up front about not wanting marriage or children. You’re not to blame.’
He was about to respond when there was a knock on the door and two of his staff entered, accompanied by the doctor.
Raul dealt him a glance that would have flattened a man with fragile self-confidence, but the doctor stood his ground and nodded a greeting to Faith.
‘I want you to find out what’s wrong with her,’ Raul commanded. ‘And then I expect you to fix it.’ Faith was young and supposedly healthy. It wasn’t normal for anyone to be as tired as she was.
She no longer even had the energy to argue with him.
What if it was something serious?
Facing that terrifying prospect, a sudden chill of fear slid down his spine and he glared at the doctor. ‘Well? Aren’t you going to examine her or something?’
‘I certainly intend to examine her,’ the doctor said calmly, walking across to the bed and placing his bag on the floor.
‘Well hurry up then.’ Raul’s voice was hoarse and the doctor sighed.
‘If you would leave us alone for a few moments, I’d like to talk to your wife.’
‘Leave you alone?’
‘Yes.’ The doctor opened his bag and removed a stethoscope. ‘I insist that all my consultations are private in the first instance. Later, if your wife chooses to have you in the room, we can call you.’
Raul opened his mouth to refuse but then remembered that Faith had completely clammed up with him. He knew her well enough to know she needed to talk to someone and since it wasn’t him, then it had better be the doctor.
Prepared to make that sacrifice for the greater good of their relationship, Raul turned and left the Beach House in several long, angry strides.
‘Your husband seems very tense and worried,’ the doctor observed, checking Faith’s temperature and her pulse rate. ‘He obviously loves you very much.’
If only. Faith decided that it was best not to respond to that statement because she didn’t trust herself not to break down and sob. In a state of anxious misery, she lay still while the doctor examined her but all she really wa
nted to do was run after Raul.
They’d been in the middle of a conversation about Julieta’s pregnancy when the doctor had arrived and for some reason he’d been getting more and more exasperated with her.
She’d done her best not to cry on him or talk about the way she felt because she knew he hated that, but instead of appearing relieved and grateful for her restraint, he’d actually seemed more agitated.
This whole thing was her fault. If she’d told him that she’d lost the baby before the wedding then he never would have married her. Maybe they wouldn’t even be together.
Finding that scenario deeply depressing, Faith closed her eyes tightly and it took her a moment to realise that the doctor was speaking to her.
‘Sorry. Did you say something?’
‘I asked you when your last period was.’
Faith gave him the date. ‘Why are you asking? What does that have to do with my head injury?’
‘Because I don’t think your symptoms are anything to do with your head injury,’ the doctor mused, folding his stethoscope and putting it back into his bag. ‘I have a suspicion this is something entirely different.’
‘Well it must be something,’ Faith muttered. ‘Because I’m completely exhausted and that isn’t like me.’
‘It’s definitely something,’ the doctor said mildly. ‘When was your last period?’
Faith gritted her teeth. ‘I haven’t had one since the miscarriage.’
‘And when was the miscarriage?’
She gave the doctor the date and then turned her head away. ‘Do we really have to talk about this?’
‘If you’re asking whether it’s important then the answer is yes, I think it is.’ The doctor sat down next to her, his expression thoughtful. ‘This miscarriage—describe it.’
So Faith told him what had happened and he gave a slow nod.
‘And you didn’t see a doctor?’
‘No. It was very early on so I didn’t see the point. What could anyone have done?’ Feeling the emotion bubbling up inside her, she covered her face with her hands. ‘Can we stop talking about this? Why is it even relevant?’
‘Because I don’t think you lost that baby,’ the doctor said in a calm, clear voice. ‘In fact I’m entirely sure that you’re still pregnant.’
His words were so entirely unexpected that Faith lay still, just staring at him. ‘S-still pregnant?’
‘You had a small bleed at the time that your period was due. It happens. Far more frequently than people imagine, actually. It wasn’t a miscarriage. By my calculation you’re about three months pregnant.’
Pregnant?
She hadn’t lost the baby?
Her hand covered her flat stomach in an instinctively protective gesture and a rush of pure, perfect joy engulfed her.
And then the implications of what the doctor had just told her sank into her brain and she immediately swooped down into a dark pit of despair.
The fact that she hadn’t lost the baby was wonderful news, but she realised with a miserable, sinking heart that the doctor’s words had sounded the death knell for her relationship with Raul.
Faith walked onto the beach, bracing herself for the most difficult conversation of her life.
How would Raul respond to the news?
He wouldn’t be pleased, she knew that. Suddenly his comment on her wedding day came back to haunt her.
Although it was four in the morning, there was just enough light for her to make out his lean, powerful physique. He stood with his back to her, facing out to sea, and she lifted a hand to touch him and then immediately let it fall again.
What right did she have to touch?
‘Raul?’ She spoke his name softly and he turned instantly.
The sudden flare of anxiety in his eyes surprised her. ‘Well?’ He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, his hard, strong fingers biting into her flesh. ‘What did he say?’
Faith flinched. ‘You’re squeezing me—’
‘Sorry.’ He released his grip and took her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. ‘I’m sorry, cariño. I’ve been worried.’
The concern in his tone almost finished her off. ‘I’m sorry you were worried.’ How was she going to say this? What words could she use to make the whole thing easier on both of them? ‘I—Raul—’
‘Dios mío, you’re scaring me,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Just tell me, quickly, before I chase after that damn doctor and drag him back here. What did he say to you that’s made you so scared? You look totally terrified! Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, I promise.’
It was such a typical response that in spite of her misery, she almost smiled. ‘You can’t fix everything, Raul.’ Feeling as though she were facing a firing squad, Faith moved her face away from his hands and stepped back from him but still she couldn’t bring herself to say what had to be said because she knew that once the words were out there, that would be it.
Their relationship would be over.
Her fingers were trembling, her legs were trembling—she felt physically sick although whether that was down to nerves or her pregnancy she didn’t know.
Squeezing her eyes shut she vowed that, whatever he said, she was not going to cry. Inside she felt wretched, miserable and just plain desolate.
‘Faith,’ Raul muttered rawly, turning her to face him. ‘If you don’t tell me soon—’
She tilted her head back and braced herself. What difference did a few minutes make? She wanted a whole lifetime with him and if she couldn’t have that…
‘I’m pregnant.’ Her voice cracked and she snatched a breath and said it again, just in case he hadn’t heard her. ‘I didn’t lose the baby. I made a mistake about that. I’m still pregnant.’
He stared down at her, his dark eyes glittering in the moonlight and his normally bronzed, healthy skin appeared to have lost some of its colour.
His hands dropped from her arms and he took a step backwards, an expression of stunned disbelief crossing his handsome face.
He didn’t say a word.
Not a single word.
The only sound was the soft rush of waves as they broke onto the sand and the frantic pumping of her own heartbeat.
Raul stared down at her for what seemed like endless minutes and then turned sharply and walked away across the sand.
And that, she thought to herself, was that.
No longer bothering to contain the tears that had gathered in her throat, Faith sank down onto the sand and just sobbed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
PACKING was easy because she didn’t need to take much.
Just her work gear and a suit that she thought she could use for interviews. The glamorous shoes and dresses she ignored because she just couldn’t imagine herself ever wanting to party again.
Closing the small case, she carried it over to the door of the Beach House and then turned to allow herself one last look. Four large, stylish lamps threw shafts of golden light across the room and for one desperately indulgent moment she stood, gazing at the pale wood floors, the filmy white curtains and the soft sofas piled with exotically coloured cushions.
It was just a house, she reminded herself bleakly. Just a house.
If she wanted to, she could reproduce it in the next place she lived.
Except that it wasn’t just a house, was it?
Everything about the place reminded her of Raul. It had been their home.
She turned off three of the lights and was just reaching to do the same with the fourth, when Raul’s voice came from behind her.
‘If you seriously think I’d let you walk away from me a second time then you don’t know me at all.’ His words shimmering with suppressed violence, he spoke from the doorway and Faith turned, her heart rate suddenly doubling.
‘I thought you’d—’ She stumbled over the words. ‘I thought you’d gone.’
‘Gone?’ Winged dark brows met in a menacing frown. The collar of his shirt was undone and his eyes blazed
dark with anger. ‘Gone where?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her legs were trembling and her stomach was churning and she gave a helpless little shrug. ‘As far away as possible, I suppose.’
The last remaining light illuminated his black, glossy hair and the fierce burn of his eyes. ‘I’m not the one who runs in this relationship. Does our marriage really mean so little to you?’ His tone grim, he strode forward and took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. ‘If you’re going to cry, you can damn well cry on my shoulder. Not on some stranger in an aeroplane.’
‘This isn’t the time to be possessive and territorial,’ she muttered in a thickened voice. ‘Just let me go, Raul.’
His answer to that was to slide an arm around her waist, locking her against him. ‘Talk to me, cariño. I want to know what you’re thinking because at the moment the working of your brain is a complete mystery to me and I’m not used to that. Usually you talk about everything. Why would you even consider leaving when we are so good together?’
‘Didn’t you hear what I told you? I’m pregnant.’
His eyes narrowed warily. ‘Sí, I heard that part. What I didn’t hear is why this news would make you miserable. I thought you wanted this baby.’
‘I did. I do.’ She gave a painful little smile. ‘But I also wanted you and the two things aren’t compatible are they? You don’t want babies. You don’t like children!’
Her passionate statement was met by a long throbbing silence and then he drew in a long breath and released her, his shoulders tense and his eyes suddenly wary. ‘I have never once in our relationship told you that I don’t like children.’
‘No marriage, no babies.’ Her tone was flat as she quoted him word for word. ‘That’s what you told me.’
‘Perhaps. I mean—’ For some reason his English seemed to lack its usual fluency. ‘Yes. I did say that but I have never said that I didn’t like children.’ He ran a hand around the back of his neck and his obvious struggle to find the words he wanted puzzled her. She’d never known Raul anything less than stunningly articulate.
‘It’s fine, Raul. You honestly don’t have to explain.’