Читать книгу Christmas Kisses: The Spanish Billionaire's Christmas Bride / Christmas Bride-To-Be / Christmas Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses - Алисон Робертс - Страница 9

AS HER tears and sorrow started to abate, Dominique became disturbingly aware that she was actively enjoying being held in Cristiano’s arms. Not just because he was giving her the comfort she sorely needed, but because his body was hard and warm and strong, and the contact made her feel alive and human again, after being shut off from those vital sensations for too long.

Now she knew why babies failed to thrive when they were denied the most basic necessity of all … that of being touched and held. Surely something similar must happen to adults? And it was with genuine reluctance that she uncurled her fingers from the soft weave of Cristiano’s sweater and started to step out of the protective circle of his arms.

Just before Dominique disengaged herself completely, he took her hands in his and stroked the pads of his thumbs back and forth across her fine, delicately boned fingers. His dark gaze was almost brooding.

‘It will get better, you know? You will find a way to manage it. I know it is hard to believe that right now, feeling the way you do, but you will. Every day the hurt will ease a little more. You are fortunate that you have little Matilde to draw comfort from.’

He sounded as if he knew intimately what it was to lose someone you cared for. Staring back into the black velvet night of his arresting glance, Dominique felt her hands alive with electricity from their contact with his. Her grief and despondency had been stunningly transformed into a fascination that perplexed and frightened her.

‘I think I’ll give that walk a miss, if you don’t mind? I really ought to be getting back to Matilde,’ she heard herself announce, her voice sounding remarkably even and calm in spite of her turbulent feelings.

Cristiano shrugged, his expression not easing in its disturbing intensity one iota. ‘When can I see you again?’ he asked.

Her heart momentarily stalled at the question—for a second there he had sounded like an ardent lover, counting the minutes until he saw his paramour again—and Dominique sensed heat rush into her face.

‘Why don’t you come and join me for dinner this evening? You can bring the baby … I will see about a private room for us,’ he suggested when she did not reply straight away.

‘I can’t. I’m working tonight.’

‘Ring them and say that you are taking the night off.’

‘Are solutions always so black and white to you?’

Dominique bet when this man dealt with clients he didn’t suffer fools gladly, or grant any quarter to anyone who dared disagree with him. The world must seem a very different place when you saw the answers to problems with such enviable clarity!

‘I’m already going to have to let them down when I tell them I can’t work over Christmas as it is. It would hardly be fair for me to phone in at the last minute and say I’m taking tonight off as well!’

‘I can see that you have a very admirable sense of duty, Dominique, and although I am disappointed you won’t be joining me tonight I cannot fault it. So … We will meet tomorrow for lunch instead, yes? We can go for a walk in the park first, then have something to eat afterwards. Does that plan appeal more to your sense of fairness?’

His lips twitched teasingly upwards at one corner, and Dominique was transfixed by the blaze of light that humour brought to his otherwise smouldering dark gaze.

‘It does.’

‘So … if you insist you have to leave now I will ring down to Reception and organise a car to take you back home. I will send it again for you tomorrow at around midday.’

‘Okay … thank you.’

‘You are feeling a little better now?’

As he brought his hand lightly down onto her shoulder, Cristiano’s touch almost made Dominique jump out of her skin.

‘I’m sorry I lost it like that.’ She grimaced, hardly daring to look at him and suddenly needing vital fresh air to help her breathe.

‘There is no need for an apology,’ he said quietly, devastatingly holding her gaze, even though everything inside her was clamouring to be set free from it.

When she could hardly stand the tension any longer, he gave a barely perceptible nod of his head and moved towards the telephone on the bureau just inside the door. Seconds later she heard him ring down to Reception to order the car to take her home …

Having spoken to his family and given them the news that they’d been waiting on tenterhooks to hear, Cristiano strode restlessly through the hotel and made his way to the park. As he slid his ungloved hands into the pockets of his camel-coloured cashmere coat and made his way down paths strewn with the untended debris of faded and dead autumn leaves his thoughts turned like a magnet to Dominique and the baby.

Both females were stirring things in him that he had rigidly striven to keep contained—an action that stemmed from his great desire to make himself impenetrable to hurt from another human being again. Up until Ramón’s shocking death he had more than succeeded. But now the big blue guileless eyes of the woman his cousin had abandoned, along with her fierce pride and that gorgeous baby girl, were making inroads into the previously impervious wall he’d built around his emotions. He knew he would have to fortify it if he was to stay immune.

He didn’t doubt for a moment that he was doing the right thing in taking them home with him to Spain—his sense of duty and familial loyalty confirmed it, if nothing else—nevertheless Cristiano knew that their unexpected presence in his life was going to test his resolve as nothing had before.

As he sighed into the frigid air, his warm breath made a curling plume of steam. A well-dressed couple strolling past from the opposite direction wished him good afternoon, and Cristiano politely inclined his head in acknowledgement. As he walked on, he was blindsided as his mind’s eye caught and held the vision of another woman’s beautiful face. The pain it wrought inside him almost made him stagger.

Unable to fight off the scene that unfolded in his head, he devastatingly recalled the passionate, loving words that woman had called out to him from her hospital bed just two years ago. A seemingly straight forward labour had taken an unexpected turn for the worse, and the next thing Cristiano had known was that his wife was fighting for her life—and their baby’s. Just before the medical team had rushed her off to surgery Martina had called out to him. ‘Te amo, Cristi! Te amo!’Her stunning brown eyes had been full of tears and so had his own as he’d stood there, icy dread robbing him of all life and turning him to stone, nauseous with the realisation that he was in the middle of a nightmare he might never wake from …

All his faith, personal influence, professional know-how and wealth had served him to no avail that terrible day, and by the time he’d received the news that his wife and baby had not survived the emergency operation that had been undertaken to save them Cristiano had felt as if he had been driven to his knees by the most vicious, merciless storm imaginable.

The pain of it was as fresh now as it had been that day, despite the platitudes he had spoken earlier. Gritting his teeth, he lengthened his stride and began to head down a path that he saw led to a large wintry lake flocked by squawking birds, and with a determined upsurge of strength he managed to ride the crest of the terrible emotion that had so cruelly racked him. Eventually sensing it subside, he renewed his vow never to leave himself so vulnerable again.

Knowing they were going to the park, Dominique had hoped they would go by the lake, so she’d brought with her a paper bag full of stale crusts of bread to feed to the birds. Cristiano seemed quite happy to go along with this idea and, despite being dressed more appropriately for lunch at the Ritz than to take a casual stroll through the park, he walked alongside Matilde’s pushchair closely enough to look as if he belonged there. It gave Dominique quite an odd feeling. And even odder was the fact that she realised she couldn’t really imagine Ramón undertaking the same ordinary action and taking pleasure in it. He would have been too impatient to go on and do something far more exciting, and would probably have spoiled the outing with a sulk.

Guiltily Dominique pulled herself up short. Was she being disloyal to the father of her baby by thinking such an uncharitable thing? Disturbed, she pushed the thought away and glanced sidelong at Cristiano instead. This morning she’d woken with a strange fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach and had realised it was excitement at the idea of going to Spain. Somehow this man walking beside her had persuaded her it would be a very good idea for her to go, and for some reason Dominique had started to believe him.

Whether it was the thought of spending a Christmas like the one he had so vividly described, amongst people who genuinely cared about her daughter’s wellbeing, or just the opportunity to consider starting life afresh in a new country with a ‘clean slate,’ she couldn’t have said for sure, but she knew she had to give it a try. There was certainly nothing holding her in the UK if she decided to move there permanently, and that included her mother. Talking of which …

‘By the way, I spoke to my mother this morning and told her I was going to Spain with you for Christmas.’

‘And how did she take the news?’

‘She was strangely quiet, actually. Not the reaction I expected at all. She said we should talk when I get back.’

‘Perhaps she has finally realised how selfish of her it is to leave you to your own devices during the holiday?’

‘Why should she think that?’ Shrugging, Dominique countered the sting of her mother’s rejection of both her and her baby with a fresh spurt of anger. ‘It’s what she usually does! It would be a bit late in the day for her to develop a conscience!’

‘You have never mentioned your father?’ Interestedly, Cristiano glanced at her. ‘I am presuming he is not in the picture any more?’

‘He left when I was two. God knows where he is now! He never kept in touch, and I doubt whether my mother would have even wanted him to. She’s been furious with him for most of my life! It’s her main motivation for getting up every day … just so she can be mad at him all over again!’

Not commenting, Cristiano merely looked thoughtful, and Dominique concluded that he was obviously thinking what a screwed up family she came from!

Biting her lip, she tightened her hands a little round the handlebars of the pushchair.

Reaching the lakeside, Dominique carefully positioned Matilde where she had the best view and, checking that the cheerful knitted blanket to safeguard her from the cold was securely in place, she crouched down low beside her and laughingly threw the crusts to the accumulated feathered throng.

‘Look, Tilly! Look at the lovely birds, darling! How happy they are to see you!’

Watching them both with growing fascination, and a secret pleasure he could not deny, Cristiano stood protectively by, his gaze moving now and again to the other small groups of families dotted round the perimeter of the lake, also feeding the birds. His connection to the young woman beside him was for once allowing him entry to an experience that they perhaps took for granted. He valiantly steered his mind away from the distressing recollection that had assailed him yesterday and concentrated instead on this new memory that Dominique and her sweet child were helping to create.

‘Make yourself useful!’ she chided him suddenly, passing him a handful of crusts and gazing up at him with teasing mirth in her brilliant blue eyes. ‘I’ve literally got enough here to feed the five thousand!’

‘If you ask me’ Cristiano responded drolly, ‘those birds already look overfed. Any more food and they will not be able to take off!’

‘A sense of humour, Señor Cordova? I didn’t expect that!’

‘You think I am too serious?’ he asked, frowning, not quite knowing how to take her criticism.

‘Perhaps … I don’t really know. It’s just that you seemed like you were miles away, that’s all.’

‘I was merely observing the other people doing what you are doing and wondering how it is that a simple pastime such as throwing some bread to birds can bring so much pleasure.’

‘When you do it with your children it’s the best thing in the world!’ Dominique announced, leaning into Matilde’s pushchair to plant a sound kiss on her daughter’s plump pink cheek. ‘Isn’t it, Tilly?’

Cristiano remained silent in bittersweet agreement, but as his gaze locked with Dominique’s a palpable sensation of warmth seemed to flood his insides. His previous disquiet vanished and he knew he was staring. The icy wind that was blowing had stung her cheeks into two bright pink spots of colour, and some fine strands of honey-brown hair, freed from her plait, danced wildly across them.

She glanced quickly away, clearly discomfited by his intense regard. ‘When we’ve got rid of all the bread, do you think we could go and eat?’ she asked him, her gaze now firmly on the lake and the diving birds as they braved the near-frozen surface to reach the semi-submerged crusts.

Concerned that he had neglected his duties, Cristiano agreed straight away. ‘Of course! Do you like Indian food?’ he asked her. ‘There is an exceptionally good Indian restaurant nearby, where I have reserved a table for us. If you do not like that particular cuisine then we can go somewhere you’d like better.’

‘Indian is great … as long as you think I’m dressed okay? It’s not somewhere really posh, is it?’

‘No … it is not “posh”.’ His lips curved into an amused smile. ‘It has an authentic Indian ambience, and you can go dressed casually—as we are.’

‘What you’re wearing is casual?’ Now it was Dominique’s turn to be amused.

Glancing down at his smart chinos, handmade Italian shoes, black cashmere sweater and three-quarter-length black leather jacket, Cristiano was genuinely perplexed by the question. ‘My outfit is certainly not formal, if that is what you are suggesting!’

‘No … perhaps it isn’t formal, but it still looks expensive and classy. Whereas what I’m wearing definitely doesn’t! Perhaps we ought to just go for a burger somewhere? I don’t want to embarrass you.’

She was wearing denim jeans, boots, a bottle-green polo-necked sweater and the slightly oversized tweed coat she’d had on yesterday. Very little make-up adorned her features, and she looked fresh-faced, young and beautiful. Why she imagined he would be remotely embarrassed to be seen with her appearing as she was Cristiano could not begin to fathom. He did not like the sense that her parents’ emotional neglect of her—as well as his cousin’s abandonment—had made such a harsh dent in her self-esteem.

‘That is an entirely ridiculous notion, Dominique! You look perfectly acceptable to me. All I want you to do is enjoy the food and hopefully the company too.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Put your worries aside for a while.’

‘And they won’t mind at the restaurant if I feed the baby while I’m there?’

‘You are feeding her yourself?’ For a moment Cristiano sensed an intense tingling heat throb low in his stomach at the idea of Dominique breastfeeding, and he was furious with himself for feeling aroused when it was the most natural thing in the world for a mother to feed her baby that way. He noticed the colour in her cheeks bloomed even pinker at his question.

‘No. I tried to feed her myself but I had to give up in the end. I wasn’t very good at it.’

‘But she takes a bottle quite happily?’

Dominique nodded.

‘Then where is the problem? As long as she is able to take nourishment that is the main thing, is it not?’

Glancing towards the lake, Cristiano threw a handful of bread in the direction of a rather dejected-looking duck that was isolated from the rest, He shivered as a particularly icy breeze seared into his face just then. As pleasurable as this little outing with Dominique and the baby was, he was seriously missing the far friendlier climes of his own country. He was also concerned that it was too much for the child to be out in such hostile weather.

‘We should go now,’ he announced, swiping the remainder of the crumbs from his leather gloves. ‘It is really far too bitter for Matilde. We should get her inside into the warmth.’

‘You’re probably right. Say bye-bye to the birds, Tilly! We’ll come and visit them again another day.’

Rising to her feet, Dominique gave Cristiano a fleeting smile, and as she turned the pushchair round and started back up the path that had led them to the lake he automatically put his hand at her back, as if to guide and protect her …