Martinez's Pregnant Wife Page 3

  Only she hadn’t, she thought as she watched him press the pads of his fingers over his eyes in an uncustomary display of inadequacy. Her heart lurched as she weakened. This was her baby’s father, the man she’d fallen in love with, the man she’d married.

  ‘I understand why you are saying that,’ she said more softly now as she moved closer, physically bridging the gap if not emotionally. ‘But we shouldn’t make any decisions now. Not until you have met your brother. This is too much to deal with in one go.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he said firmly and looked up at her. ‘First I will meet my brother and then we will sort this out.’

  He made their baby sound as if it were a little mistake that could be swept to one side, but she kept her nerve, hid her pain and looked him in the eye. ‘So when are you going to meet him?’

  ‘He’s here now.’ The curtness of his reply shocked her as much as what he’d said.

  ‘Here?’

  ‘No, in London. We have a meeting planned for today.’

  ‘And he thought it would be a good idea to blast it all over the British papers on the very same day?’ Furious loyalty suddenly sprang up inside her and she couldn’t keep the spike of venom from her voice. What kind of man would do such a thing?

  ‘I’ve read it over several times and I don’t think he is responsible. He would be dragging his own name through the dirt too. He’s been accused of blackmailing a woman into an engagement. Maybe by meeting him I will discover just who is responsible for this.’ He picked up the newspaper again and glared at it.

  ‘So you are going?’ She frowned at what he’d just told her, the puzzle over who would gain from leaking such a story taking her mind from her own problems.

  ‘Yes, but first we have things to sort out.’

  ‘What things?’ She curled her fingers together; the engagement ring she’d picked out with such enthusiasm and hope for the future cut cruelly into her palm as it turned on her finger. Was that a sign they were doomed? Whatever duty and honour kept them together?

  ‘Our marriage. How we are going to make this work.’

  ‘Our marriage is over, Max.’ She didn’t dare mention that once she’d loved him so much she’d thought nothing could ever change that. If she mentioned the word love now it would push her over the edge, even if it didn’t do that to him.

  ‘Not until I return the signed papers saying I agree to the divorce and right now I have no intention of doing that.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘YOU HAVE TO AGREE.’ There was a hint of panic in Lisa’s voice and Max realised how much work he would have to do. Whatever Lisa had once felt for him, it was gone. Maybe she even hated him. But what of the passion of that night two months ago? Didn’t that count for something?

  ‘You are expecting my child, Lisa. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t contest the divorce?’ The words were out before he’d had a chance to check them, to rationalise the deeper level they came from.

  The door to the bar burst open and a group of office workers entered on a rush of cold winter air, their revelry matching the season but not his mood. He glanced one last time at the newspapers, the image of the father he hadn’t seen for years and that of the brother he’d never met staring up at him. That particular problem would have to wait.

  He pulled his heavy wool coat on, his eyes meeting the question in Lisa’s green ones. ‘We can’t talk about this here.’

  ‘There is nothing else to talk about.’ The passionate retort fired hotly back at him as the group of men and woman laughed loudly at their private joke. This was not the place to have such a discussion.

  Max moved toward her, inhaling her perfume, its light floral scent taking him far from the coldness of winter in London. The determination to do what was right by his child made his words sharper than he intended. ‘That is where you are wrong, Lisa. We have a child to talk about. Our child.’

  ‘A child you don’t want.’ This time her hot words were barely above a whisper.

  He looked at her, the rising noise levels of the lunchtime crowd now arriving only increasing his anger, his frustration that she was so hell-bent on pushing him away, out of his child’s life. ‘A child I hadn’t planned on ever having, but that will not stop me from being a father.’

  Anger at the way his father had so willingly turned his back on him rushed from the past, threatening to drag him back into the pit of hell he’d lived in as a teenager. All those doubts, the questions, the hatred and the overwhelming sense of worthlessness swirled around him. In one breath it made what he had to do completely clear and in another it clouded it completely.

  ‘Let’s get out of here.’ He took Lisa’s arm, ignoring the startled look she shot at him as he propelled her toward the door.

  Outside the cold winter wind, as it whipped wildly around them, the hint of snow wrapped up in it, matched his mood. He sucked in a deep breath and, still holding Lisa’s elbow, marched across the car park toward his car. He pressed the remote and the orange lights flashed as the car unlocked.

  ‘You can’t just march me out of here and bundle me into the car like a troublesome package.’ She lifted her chin and looked at him, the wind snatching at the glorious red hair, reminding him yet again of the morning two months ago when he’d woken to find her in his bed.

  Why the hell had he given into lust then? Why hadn’t he been able to control the wayward desire and walk away before things had got heated?

  Because it was Lisa.

  ‘So you’d rather discuss our marriage, our child, against the backdrop of an office Christmas lunch?’ He let go of her arm and shoved his hand deep into his coat pocket, taking away the temptation to prevent her from leaving. If she turned and walked away, left him standing here like the young boy who’d watched his father leave, then he’d know it was all over. He’d know that there was no point.

  Lisa didn’t move. She stood proudly looking up at him, a haughtiness that was born out of the hurt he’d caused her when he’d told her their marriage was over, that he didn’t love her. ‘So where are we going?’

  ‘My apartment.’

  He saw the shadow of doubt enter her eyes, obliterating the angry spark, then her delicate brows lifted gently. ‘Your apartment? Can’t we talk here?’

  ‘In this freezing wind?’ He opened the passenger car door for her then stood back. ‘We need to sort things out, Lisa.’

  ‘Very well, but nothing is happening between us again.’

  Her insistence almost made him smile. ‘I think enough has happened already, don’t you?’

  As she slipped into the low sports car he tried to eradicate the memory of those long legs wrapped around him. Now was not the time to be carried away by lust, but he would have to be careful. As he manoeuvred the car out of the car park and onto the road, joining the busy afternoon traffic, he ignored the fact that Lisa was the only woman who’d made such control impossible. The only woman who had affected him like this.

  * * *

  Lisa looked around the apartment she hadn’t been in for months, the memories of her foolhardy expectation of love and happy ever afters almost mocking her from every corner. It felt strange to be here, to be following Max across the polished wooden floor as if the last year hadn’t happened.

  But it had.

  Nothing could erase those words he’d said to her, the admission that he didn’t love her, never had and never would. Just as nothing could erase the fact that after one reckless night they had created a new life. A baby that would join them together for evermore, whatever the outcome of this discussion he was so insistent on.

  ‘I should have thought,’ he said as he turned from hanging up his coat, waiting to take hers. ‘This maybe wasn’t the best place. I could have been a little more sensitive.’

  She frowned at him, knocked off balance emotionally by the sudden show of consideration. Was it possible that he cared for her still?

  ‘This is far from neutral territory and not the best place to mak
e a deal.’ The hint of his Spanish accent had deepened. It tugged at her heart, unleashed memories of happier times and she instantly went into defensive mode.

  ‘We are not making a deal, Max. Our child is not something that can be bartered over.’

  ‘I’m aware of that.’ He took her coat from her, the warmth of his fingers brushing against hers, sending a shock wave of heat through her. He’d felt it too, she was sure. His eyes had widened, the darkness of his eyes holding hers. Tension had stretched between them, only breaking when he once again spoke. ‘But this has to be settled.’

  ‘We both know we can’t remain married, so I don’t see any other option but divorce.’

  He turned and walked away from her and she watched him, watched the rigid line of his shoulders as he looked out over the river Thames. She couldn’t move even though somewhere deep inside her she wanted to, wanted to go to him, tell him she loved him that it was enough for her. But it wasn’t. She’d tried that.

  ‘I grew up in Seville.’ He turned to face her and she wondered where this was going. They’d never really discussed their past, their childhood. They’d always lived for the moment, which had suited her perfectly.

  ‘So how—?’ She stumbled over the question that came to mind after having read the story in the newspaper. ‘Your father?’

  ‘How did he have two families and neither knew about the other? Because my mother and I were in Seville and his other family, his wife and legitimate son, were in Madrid. It’s only now I realise why we moved to Madrid when I was a young boy, why my mother thought it best to leave behind her family and follow him—my father.’

  She blinked a few times and took a deep breath as a wave of nausea threatened. ‘I hope my child never goes through anything like that.’

  The words were out before she could stop them. The pain of her childhood blending with the hint that his had been far from filled with love and happiness.

  ‘Then we want the same things, Lisa. A happy home for our child.’

  She turned from him, frowning as questions cascaded over her like a torrent of floodwater. He made it sound as if he wanted to give them a chance, to build a happy marriage for their child, but how could that be when she knew he didn’t love her and, worse, that he didn’t want to be loved?

  The heels of her boots made a soft tap as she walked away from him, excruciatingly aware of his gaze following her, taking in every move she made, as if he could read every question, every doubt she had and was preparing his answers, his arguments.

  She turned and looked at him. ‘We don’t have to remain married to give a child that.’

  He walked toward her, long strides that brought him far too close to her. ‘We owe it to our child to try.’

  Her heart ached. He’d said nothing about them. She shook her head slowly. ‘No, Max.’

  He touched her cheek, the palm of his hand warm, and she sucked in a deep breath. ‘We had something good once, Lisa, something that brought us back together and created a child—our child.’

  Her heart thumped. Stupidly she thought he was referring to love and to her dismay her eyes fluttered closed, hope filling her.

  ‘That passion is still there, is it not?’ Her eyes flew open, not because of the heavy accent of his words, which reminded her of those intimate moments when she could easily fool herself that he loved her, but because of what he considered to be between them.

  ‘Passion isn’t enough.’ Her hot retort did little to deflect the charm that this man was renowned for.

  ‘But it’s something.’

  She looked away, desperate to break the heady contact of his dark eyes. Beyond the small but well-equipped office she looked through the window and out over London lying beneath dark heavy clouds. She was about to turn back to him, to tell him that maybe he was right, when papers on his desk caught her attention.

  The petition for divorce. On top of the acknowledgement form lay a pen, as if he’d been interrupted in the process of signing it.

  * * *

  Max followed her gaze and looked at his desk, seeing a story he knew she would quickly piece together. The pen lying where he’d dropped it as he’d answered the phone call from his half-brother, Raul, which had thrown everything into disarray—and that had only been the beginning.

  Then he’d been poised ready to sign the papers, to end a marriage he’d made in haste, but even before the ringtone of his phone had slashed through his thoughts he’d been unable to do it. Unable to make it so very final.

  ‘You were going to sign them,’ Lisa said softly as she looked back to him, and the pain in her eyes clutched at him, stabbing his conscience.

  The truth of it all was that even before the phone call his hand had hovered over the form, ready to sign but not able to. Still the shock of receiving them cut deeply. He’d failed. Just like his father, he’d been unable to be the man he’d promised to be.

  ‘Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?’ He deflected her question, throwing one back at her, and he knew that if he stood any chance of being in his child’s life he had to get Lisa to understand that they needed to remain married.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, but the hint of hesitation told him he was finally winning. ‘It was.’

  ‘And now that you are carrying my child? Do you still want me to sign them?’ He moved away from her, wanting to give her space to think but more importantly to take away the temptation to kiss her.

  He looked out over London, the tension in the room notching up as her silence lengthened. He went to his desk, turning the papers round to face him and picked up the pen.

  He looked at her, saw the way she bit at her lower lip, her focus on his hand. ‘The baby changes nothing, Max. We should never have married.’

  ‘But we did,’ he said as he put down the pen and stood tall, his arms folded across his chest. Anything to stop himself from going to her, from trying to kiss some reason into her. She was his wife and the thought of her moving on, of her meeting someone new, lashed at him like icy rain.

  ‘I don’t want a reluctant father for my child, Max.’

  He drew in a deep breath as her words hit at his biggest insecurity. ‘Then we agree on that at least because I want to be there for my son or daughter all the time. Which is why I want to give our marriage another chance.’

  ‘We already know we don’t work.’

  ‘I’ll make a deal with you, Lisa. We give the marriage one last chance. We live as a married couple for the next two weeks and if by New Year’s Eve you still feel the same, I will not contest the divorce and we can both start our lives again.’

  * * *

  ‘Why?’ she asked, her brows furrowing in suspicion. ‘You don’t love me. You told me that in no uncertain terms.’

  Lisa looked at Max as his eyes met hers across the small space of his office. Her heart flipped over and her stomach fluttered just as it always had done when he’d looked at her like that. For her it was all about being in love, but for him it was something different.

  ‘Because we have created a child, our child, and we owe it to that child to at least try.’ His words confirmed her thoughts. This was about his conscience, about doing the right thing.

  She’d never wanted a divorce. Not because she couldn’t admit they’d made a mistake, but because she still loved him. It had been his cold and cruel words after their passionate night that had prompted her to tell him that morning she wanted a divorce and the pain had stung long enough to ensure she’d eventually seen it through.

  ‘Our night together should never have happened.’ She turned and glared at him, pushing down her softer side, the one that wanted to fall into his arms and take anything he was offering. She might have been able to do that once, but not any more, not now she had a child to think of.

  ‘So why did it, Lisa?’ His voice was deep, gravelly and very sexy.

  She bit down hard, keeping the truth inside. There was no way she was ever going to let him know she still loved him. She’d thought her
dreams had all come true at once when she’d first met Max and giving up on her dreams was hard. Too hard.

  ‘Far too much wine.’ She snapped the words she’d used earlier and turned, leaving the small office and the air that was full of the scent of Max. She couldn’t stay here any more, not when every word, every look, made her remember all she’d lost.

  ‘Nothing else?’ He taunted her and she stopped, her breathing deep and fast as she looked steadfastly at the door of his apartment, her escape. She wouldn’t turn round, couldn’t look at him.

  ‘No.’ She shook her head and took the final steps to the door but before she could open it Max was in front of her. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘But there is something now,’ he said all too calmly. ‘Our child.’

  She clutched at the first thing she could think of to change the subject. ‘What about your brother? Aren’t you intending to meet him this afternoon?’

  ‘I am meeting my brother...’ he paused and lifted his arm to look at his watch, the movement exposing his tanned wrist and, try as she might, she couldn’t tear her gaze away ‘...in one hour. Which means, we will have to continue this discussion later.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll go home.’ Her blasé reply made his brows rise in a suggestive and incredibly sexy way and she drew in a deep breath.

  ‘You will come with me, Lisa, and afterward, we will call at your apartment to collect all you need to move back in here while we sort things out.’

  ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘Quite possibly.’ He smiled, the kind of smile that left her in no doubt he was sure he held all the power. ‘But I am not about to allow you to walk away with my child.’

  ‘A child you’ve never wanted.’

  ‘That may have been the case once, but not any more.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  MAX’S MIND HAD been a turmoil of thoughts as he and Lisa had made the journey across London to the hotel his brother had suggested for their meeting. One minute he’d been thinking of his brother and how finally meeting him would affect him, and then his thoughts had gone to the child he was now responsible for. How could he be a father when he was the son of a man who’d led a double life, effectively having two families simultaneously?