A few days later, Max left for a brief trip to Denmark, where he had a project on the go. Sabrina could sense his reluctance to leave her but she assured him she would be fine as she had work aplenty of her own to see to. Most days her nausea was only mild and if she was sensible about getting enough rest she was able to cope with the demands of her job.
Living at his house had far more benefits than she had first realised, not least the warm protective shelter of Max’s arms when she went to sleep each night and when she woke each morning. Staying at his house was like living in a luxury hotel but much less impersonal. There were reminders of him everywhere—books, architectural journals he was reading, one with a feature article on him—and even the house itself with its stylish renovation that perfectly married the old with the new.
There was that word again—marriage.
But she couldn’t bring herself to regret her acceptance of his proposal. She had to concentrate on what was best for the baby and put her own issues aside. Max cared about her otherwise he wouldn’t have made such a fuss over her, looking after her, insisting on her living with him and doing a hundred other things for her that no one had ever done for her before.
The evening he was due to come back, Sabrina found a photo of him with his family in the study, taken before his baby brother had died. She had seen the photo at his parents’ house in the past but somehow she hadn’t really looked at it in any detail before. She traced her finger over Max’s bright and happy smile as a seven-year-old boy and wondered if the birth of their baby would heal some of the pain of the past. There was no doubt in her mind that he would make an excellent father.
The sound of the doorbell ringing almost made her drop the photo frame. Max was due home any minute, but surely if it was him he would use his key rather than the doorbell? She placed the photo back on Max’s desk and went out to check the security monitor in the foyer to see who was at the door. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she saw it was her mother standing there with Max’s mother Gillian. She had thought her mother would be away for another week in France...or had she got the dates wrong?
Sabrina stepped backwards away from the monitor, hoping Gillian Firbank and her mother hadn’t heard her footsteps on the black and white tiles of the foyer, but in her haste she stumbled and bumped against the hall table. She watched in horror as the priceless vase that was sitting there wobbled and then crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.
‘Max?’ Gillian said, rapping firmly at the door. ‘Is that you? Are you okay?’
Sabrina stood surrounded by the detritus of the vase, her heart hammering faster than that of a rabbit on the run. Should she open the door? But how could she explain why she was at Max’s house? They were supposed to be keeping their relationship a secret. But if their mothers found her in situ at Max’s home...
‘Perhaps it’s a burglar,’ Sabrina’s mother said. ‘We’d better call the police.’
Sabrina had no choice but to open the door before her mother summoned half of London’s constabulary to Max’s house. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m...erm...housesitting for Max.’
Gillian’s and Sabrina’s mother’s eyes widened and then they exchanged a twinkly-eyed glance.
‘Housesitting? For...Max?’ Her mother’s voice rose in a mixture of disbelief and hope.
‘Yes. Just while he’s in Denmark. He’s coming back tonight. In fact, I thought he would be home before this. Perhaps his flight’s been delayed.’
Gillian’s mouth was tilted in a knowing smile. ‘I knew something was going on with you two at my party.’
‘Nothing’s going on,’ Sabrina lied, not very well by the look on the two women’s faces.
‘I wanted to show your mother Max’s new renovations,’ Gillian said. ‘We were in the area and saw the lights on and thought we’d pop in. But if Max isn’t home we’ll come back another time.’
‘You told me the other day you were staying at a friend’s house.’ Her mother’s expression was one part accusatory, one part delighted.
‘Yes, well, that’s sort of true,’ Sabrina said.
‘So you two are friends now?’ Her mother’s eyes danced like they were auditioning for a part in La Cage aux Folles.
‘Mum, it’s not what you think—’
‘Actually, it is what you think,’ Max said as he came up the path to the front door carrying his travel bag with his laptop case slung over his shoulder. ‘Sabrina and I are getting married.’
‘Married?’ The mothers spoke in unison, their faces so aglow with unmitigated joy they could have lit up the whole of London.
Max put his arm around Sabrina’s waist and drew her close to his side. ‘Yes. We haven’t set a date yet but we’ll get around to it soon.’
Sabrina glanced at him with a question in her eyes but he simply smiled and bent down to kiss her. ‘Miss me, darling?’ he said.
‘You have no idea how much.’ Sabrina bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry about your vase...’
‘What vase?’
She pointed to the shattered pieces of porcelain strewn over the foyer behind them. ‘I bumped it when I was checking the security monitor. Please tell me it wasn’t valuable.’
‘Not as valuable as you,’ he said, and kissed her again.
‘Oh, look at you two gorgeous things.’ Gillian grabbed Sabrina’s mother’s arm to lead her inside Max’s house. ‘We need to celebrate. Let’s open some champagne.’
Sabrina gave him a what do we do now? look, but his expression remained calm. ‘They had to find out sooner or later,’ he said, sotto voce, and led her inside behind the older women.
Before she knew it, Max had efficiently cleaned up the pieces of the vase and Sabrina found herself sitting beside him on one of the sofas in the main sitting room. Her mother and Gillian were sitting opposite with glasses of champagne raised in a toast.
‘Why aren’t you drinking yours, Sabrina?’ her mother asked after everyone else had sipped theirs. Max had only taken a token sip, however.
Sabrina cradled her glass in her hands, her cheeks feeling so hot she could have stripped the paint off the walls. ‘Erm...’
‘Oh, my God!’ Gillian shot to her feet as if a spring in the sofa had jabbed her. ‘You’re pregnant?’
Max looked like he was the one suffering morning sickness. Sabrina’s mother Ellen looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Sabrina decided there was no point denying it. Besides, she wanted her mother to be one of the first to know and not find out some other way. ‘Yes, I am pregnant but only eight weeks. We’re not telling everyone until the twelve-week mark.’
There were hugs and kisses and hearty congratulations all round and finally, after promising they would only tell their husbands and Sabrina’s brothers about the pregnancy, the mothers left.
Max closed the door on their exit with a sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I forgot I told my mother to drop in sometime to see the completed renovations.’
Sabrina frowned. ‘But why did you have to tell them we’re getting married? Why not just say we’re having a fling or something? You know how I feel about this. Now they’ll be in full on wedding fever mode, telling everyone our business and—’
‘I was thinking about it while I was away,’ Max said. ‘Trying to keep our involvement a secret is going to cause you more stress than you need right now. I figured it was safer to get this out in the open. I didn’t realise my mother would twig about the pregnancy, though.’
Sabrina sank back into the sofa and hugged one of the scatter cushions, eyeing her untouched glass of champagne as if it had personally insulted her. ‘If I hadn’t broken that damn vase, trying to avoid them, we might still have kept our secret safe. Argh. I hate how out of control my life is right now.’
He hunkered down next to her and grazed his knuckles across her cheek, his eyes warm and tender. �
�It was going to come out sooner or later. And there’s no reason to think your pregnancy isn’t going to continue.’
‘Would you prefer it if I lost the baby?’
He flinched. ‘No. How can you ask that?’
She shrugged one shoulder and tossed the cushion to one side. ‘I’ve done a pretty good job of stuffing up your neatly controlled life.’
He straightened and then came to sit beside her on the sofa, his hand slipping under the curtain of her hair to the nape of her neck, his expression wry. ‘Maybe it needed shaking up a bit.’
Sabrina could feel every inch of her body responding to his touch. She placed her arms around his waist, loving the strength and warmth of his body so close to hers. She rested her head against his chest and sighed. ‘At least our families are happy for us.’
He lifted her face off his chest and meshed his gaze with hers. ‘It’s a good start.’
‘But what if we make each other miserable? I mean, further down the track?’
He brushed an imaginary hair away from her face. ‘We’re both mature adults. We can handle the odd difference of opinion, surely? Besides, I quite like arguing with you.’
A smile tugged at her mouth, a hot tide of longing pooling in her core. ‘Do you fancy a fight now?’
His eyes glinted. ‘Bring it on.’ And he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A FEW DAYS LATER, Sabrina had left the shop early, leaving Harriet in charge so she could get home to make a special dinner. They had been eating out mostly but she wanted to have a night at home for once. She suspected he took her out for dinner so often so she wouldn’t have to cook but she enjoyed cooking and wanted to do something for him for a change.
Max’s once-a-week housekeeper had been through the house and left it spotless. Holly had given Sabrina some fresh flowers and she placed them in the new vase she’d bought to replace the one she’d broken.
He came in just as she was stirring the Provençale chicken casserole on the cooktop and she put the spoon down and smiled. How could a man look so traffic-stopping gorgeous after a long day at work? ‘How was your day?’
‘Long.’ He came over and planted a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Mmm...something smells nice.’
Sabrina held up the spoon for him to have a taste. ‘It’s one of your favourites. Your mum told me.’
He tasted the casserole and raised his brows in approval. ‘Delicious. But why are you cooking? Shouldn’t you be resting as much as possible?’
‘I like cooking.’
‘I know, but you don’t have to wait on me. I could have picked up a takeaway to save you the bother.’
Sabrina popped the lid back on the pot. ‘I’m not waiting on you. I just wanted to do something for you for a change. You’ve been so good about everything and I—’
‘Hey.’ He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her so she was facing him. ‘I like doing things for you. I want to make this relationship work.’
She bit down on her lip. ‘I know. For the baby’s sake, right?’
His hands gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. ‘Not just for the baby. For you. I care about you, Sabrina. Surely you know that?’
She gave an on-off smile. Would caring be enough for her? ‘I know but—’
He placed a finger over her lips. ‘No buts. I care about you and will do everything in my power to make you happy.’ He lowered his hand and brought his mouth to hers instead, kissing her leisurely, beguilingly until she melted into his arms.
Sabrina wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer to the tempting hard heat of his body. Her inner core already tingling with sensation, his mouth triggering a tumultuous storm in her flesh. His tongue met hers and she made a sound of approval, her senses dazzled by the taste of him, the familiar and yet exotic taste that she craved like a potent drug. His hands cradled her face as he deepened the kiss, his lips and tongue wreaking sensual havoc, ramping up her desire like fuel tossed on a naked flame. It whooshed and whirled and rocketed through her body, making her aware of every point of contact of his body on hers.
With a groan Max lifted his mouth from hers. ‘How long can dinner wait?’
Sabrina pulled his head back down. ‘Long enough for you to make love to me.’
He kissed her again, deeply and passionately. Then he took her hand and led her upstairs, stopping to kiss her along the way. ‘I’ve been thinking about doing this all day.’
‘Me too,’ Sabrina said, planting a series of kisses on his lips. ‘I’m wild for you.’
He smiled against her mouth. ‘Then what’s my excuse? I’ve been wild for you for months.’
He led her to the master bedroom, peeling away her clothes and his with a deftness of movement that made her breathless with excitement. The touch of his warm strong hands on her naked skin made her gasp and whimper, his hands cupping her breasts, his lips and tongue caressing them, teasing her nipples into tight peaks of pleasure. The same tightly budded pleasure that was growing in her core, the most sensitive part of her hungry, aching for the sexy friction of his body.
Max worked his way down her body, gently pushing her back against the mattress so she was lying on her back and open to him. It was shockingly intimate and yet she didn’t have time to feel shy. Her orgasm was upon her as soon as his tongue flicked against the heart of her and she came apart in a frenzied rush that travelled through her entire body like an earthquake.
He waited until she came down from the stratosphere to move over her, entering her with a deep but gentle thrust, a husky groan forced from his lips as her body wrapped around him. Sabrina held him to her, riding another storm of sensation, delighting in the rocking motion of his body as he increased his pace. Delighting in the strength and potency of him, delighting in the knowledge that she could do this to him—make him breathless and shuddering with ecstasy.
Max collapsed over her, his breathing hard and uneven against the side of her neck. ‘You’ve rendered me speechless.’
Sabrina stroked her hands over his lower back. ‘Same.’
He propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes still dark and glittering with spent passion. ‘I mean it, sweetie. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed sex as much as I have with you.’
She couldn’t imagine making love with anyone but him. The thought appalled her. Sickened her. She snuggled closer, her arms around his middle, wondering if it were possible to feel closer to him than she did right now.
After a long pause he stroked a strand of hair away from her face, his eyes dark with renewed desire. ‘How do you think dinner is holding up?’
She rubbed her lower body against his pelvis and smiled her best sexy siren smile. ‘It’ll keep.’ And she lifted her mouth to the descent of his.
* * *
Max had a run of projects that urgently needed his attention. He’d been neglecting his work in order to take care of Sabrina, making sure she had everything she needed in the early weeks of her pregnancy. But his work could no longer be postponed. He had big clients who expected the service they paid good money for. He hated leaving Sabrina but he had a business to run and people relying on him.
Travelling out of town meant he would have to stay overnight and that’s what he hated the most. Not waking up next to her. Not having her sexy body curled up in his arms, the sweet smell of her teasing his nostrils until he was almost drunk on it. He informed her of his business trip over breakfast and she looked up from buttering her toast with disappointed eyes. So disappointed it drove a stake through his chest.
Her smile looked forced. ‘Oh... Thanks for telling me.’
He scraped a hand through his hair. Clearly he had some work to do on his communication skills. And his timing. ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you days ago. I thought I could manage it at a distance but the client is getting restl
ess.’
She got up from the table and took her uneaten toast to the rubbish bin and tossed it in. ‘I know you have a business to run. So do I.’
‘Why aren’t you eating? Do you feel sick?’
She turned from the bin with a combative look her on face. ‘I’m fine, Max. Stop fussing.’
He came over to her and took her stiff little hands in his. ‘Do you think I really want to leave you? I hate staying in hotels. I would much rather wake up with you beside me.’
Her tight expression softened. ‘How long will you be away?’
‘Two nights,’ Max said, stroking the backs of her hands. ‘I’d ask you to come with me but I know you’re busy with Holly’s dress. Which reminds me, we need to set a wedding date. My mother has been on my back just about every day to—’
‘Yeah, mine too.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘But I don’t want to get married close to Holly’s wedding day. But neither do I want to be showing too much baby bump on ours. I don’t know what to do. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of my wedding day. Not once in those dreams did I picture myself waddling up the aisle pregnant. I’m stressing about it all the time. Whenever I think about it I just about have a panic attack.’
He cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘Oh, sweetie, try not to stress too much. We’ll talk some more when I get back, okay?’
She sighed. ‘Okay...’
Max kissed her on the forehead, breathing in her summer flowers scent. ‘I’ll call you tonight.’ He touched her downturned mouth with his fingertip. ‘Why don’t you ask Holly to stay with you while I’m away? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.’
‘She spends every spare minute with Zack.’ A spark of annoyance lit her gaze. ‘Besides, I don’t need flipping babysitting.’
‘I can’t help worrying about you.’
She slipped out of his hold and picked up her tote bag where it was hanging off the back of a chair. ‘You worry too much. I’ll be fine. I have plenty to keep me occupied.’
Max placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. ‘You’ll have to be patient with me, Sabrina. I’m not the world’s best communicator. I’m used to going away for work at a moment’s notice. But obviously that’s going to have to change once we become parents.’
The Venetian One-Night Baby Page 13