Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: January Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит, Jane Porter - Страница 15

CHAPTER FIVE

IF LISA HAD thought being in Madrid with Max at Christmas might soften his hard mood, she was quickly realising that was not the case. Since their arrival yesterday he’d been courteous yet as distant as a stranger. That last night in London he’d just been proving his power over her, proving that desire and passion still simmered between them—waiting.

They had left their hotel early that morning and now Lisa found herself shivering against the unusually cold winter winds, in a much less salubrious area than that of the hotel. The kind of area she’d grown up in. Surely Raul Valdez, with all his millions, wasn’t getting married anywhere near here.

‘What are we here for?’ she asked tentatively, pulling the collar of her coat tighter around her neck.

Max seemed impervious to the cold, his attention focused on the shabby apartment buildings and one in particular. ‘This is where my mother and I lived after we left Seville.’

Lisa’s mind reeled. Max was a billionaire in his own right and his stepfather was well known in the world of football. She’d never for one moment considered that Max knew what it was like to live on the wrong side of town.

‘I never knew.’ Her voice was soft, full of thought as she looked around her, turning to see a football ground beyond. It was very different from the grounds of the clubs that Max invested in. ‘Did you start your football career here?’

Finally, he turned to look at her and for the briefest of moments she thought she saw sadness in his eyes. Then he blinked and the usual, ever-present guard was back in place. The protection he always wore.

‘My mother moved us to Madrid soon after my father walked out. I thought at the time we were just making a new start, now I know she was hoping that, by being close to him, she could change his mind.’ His jaw clenched as he turned to look once more at the three-storey apartments. ‘And yes, I started playing football here seriously. It’s also where my mother met my stepfather, when she would stand on the sidelines cheering me on, trying to be the father figure I was lacking.’

Lisa’s heart wrenched as she thought of the young boy he’d been. ‘Maybe your father did a good thing leaving you both to build a new life.’

She was talking from her own experience, from the heartache of being stuck in the middle of warring parents, but the deep inhaled breath that prevented Max from saying anything warned her that was not what he thought at all.

‘I’m sorry.’ She stumbled over her words. ‘I didn’t mean it like it sounded.’

‘We should go,’ he said and turned to walk back to the waiting car, the driver having kept the engine turning over.

As the car negotiated the busy streets, past landmarks she longed to stop and see, Max sat coldly beside her and that coldness continued after they arrived at the wedding venue. There wasn’t even the smallest amount of tenderness from him, not this morning when her pregnancy had left her nauseous and he’d rushed her out early, and definitely not now as she stood waiting, the cold making her shiver again. Or was it the revelations of this morning? Either way, nobody could have ever guessed they were a married couple, least of all the few assembled guests awaiting the arrival of Lydia, Raul’s bride.

Lisa pulled the softness of her black coat around herself and tried to focus on what was going on around her. Expectation hung in the air of the old town hall as the few assembled guests awaited the arrival of the bride. She glanced at Max as he sat at her side and then at Raul, who waited calmly for Lydia’s arrival. Had Max been as calm the day they’d married?

The sun had shone that day and she’d thought she was the luckiest woman on earth. She was so in love, so full of the promise of her happy ever after, yet within a few months all that had crumbled away with Max’s admission that he couldn’t love her.

Lisa pushed the memories aside as her doubts began to build, increasing to such a level she could barely sit still. Why was she even here? As the thought careered around in her mind like an out-of-control horse, the bride made her entrance. Lisa had always loved attending weddings, loved to admire the bride, but this time her focus was on the groom. Although she’d met him briefly after that first meeting, she hadn’t been feeling well. He was so like Max they could be twins, not mere half-brothers.

It was the love in Raul’s eyes as he watched his bride come nearer that had her so transfixed she could scarcely breathe. There was no doubt that he loved her—completely and utterly. The smile on his lips held a secret message, known only to the bride and groom. Her heart ached and began to crack into pieces. Max had never looked at her like that and certainly not on their wedding day. He’d never shown any sign of love because he couldn’t.

‘I can’t love you, Lisa. I can’t love anyone.’

The words he’d cruelly delivered just months after they’d exchanged vows still cut deep. She’d been so in love with him, so sure he’d come to love her, she’d clung to the hope, like a thirsty woman in the middle of the desert, that one day he’d love her as she did him. That had never happened. To him it had been only lust. Nothing more than undeniable passion, which had blazed between them since they’d first met.

She moved, physically shivering as the icy memories invaded the present, desperate not to allow her emotions to get the better of her, but in doing so she brushed against Max. He stiffened instantly beside her and she risked a quick glance at him. His profile was stern, his focus on his brother as Lydia joined him. Then he looked at her and the steel in his eyes turned her and her battered heart to stone.

‘I would never have guessed.’ His whispered words held a feral edge, as if he were a wild animal afraid he’d be cornered at any moment. She knew exactly what he meant. She’d seen the love there, the very emotion he couldn’t feel, couldn’t give.

‘That they could be so in love?’ She goaded him, wanting some kind of emotion from him. Even anger was better than this distant, cool reserve.

The sound of his breath being sucked in made a few heads turn their way, but the fierce connection his eyes had made with hers was too strong to break. ‘That the might of Raul Valdez would be so weak. He must be doing what is expected. Going through the motions.’

‘Faking it?’ Her gasped whisper once again made heads turn their way, but she wasn’t going to let this go now. Not when she was finally getting somewhere, finally able to talk about the emotions that had made him marry her, then walk away. ‘Like you did?’

‘Sí.’ His eyes hardened, challenging her to say more, and she wished they were alone, that they were anywhere else. But this was Raul and Lydia’s day and she wasn’t going to spoil it and, damn him, he knew it too. She glared back at him, matching his challenge, his anger. She held his gaze for several long seconds, then turned without a word and focused once more on the bride and groom.

Raul was the epitome of command as he stood, resplendent in a black suit worn with a pale blue tie, and even though it was Max who had stolen her heart she had to admit his brother was strikingly handsome. Lydia wore a white cape, the hood trimmed with fur, over her wedding dress, looking every bit the winter fairy-tale bride.

Lisa watched stoically as they exchanged their vows, their rings and then kissed one another. They didn’t take their eyes from each other as they stayed locked in their world of love.

Max had done all that with her. The vows, the rings exchanged, the look and then the kiss, but none of it had been for real, none of it had been love. She clamped her teeth together against the threat of tears, cursing the pregnancy hormones that seemed to make crying her default emotion right now. No, she would not cry. She would never let Max know how much he’d hurt her—or that she cared.

She kept up that pretence as the guests assembled for the wedding breakfast, hardly daring to look at how happy and radiant the bride looked. It was hard to believe she was the same woman Lisa had seen leaving the restaurant in London so hurriedly just a few days ago. Did that mean there was hope for her and Max? That they could put aside their differences and fall in love again?

Again? Who was she kidding? Max had never loved her. That was the one difference. Raul had obviously loved Lydia despite the fallout that must have happened, probably all due to the stress of discovering and meeting his brother.

Beside her, she felt Max inhale deeply as an older woman talked with Raul, looking at them, and then she walked toward them. Instantly on alert, Lisa guessed this must be Raul’s mother, the woman his father had left Max and his mother to be with all those years ago. As she tried to process this, the woman spoke to Max in Spanish and, judging from his curt and brief response, it wasn’t good.

She risked a glance at Max to see his jaw was set in that stubborn way she knew only too well and she wished she understood what the woman had said, and if it was even Raul’s mother.

Then the older woman looked at Lisa and spoke in heavily accented English. ‘I am happy that my son has found love, but it is strange, is it not, that both the Valdez sons have taken an English bride?’

Her voice was warm, friendly. She wasn’t merely making a comment, it was accepting Max, a way to bridge the gap between them. She didn’t have to do that. It must be the hardest thing to face the son of your husband’s mistress. Lisa smiled at her, but she could feel Max’s anger, feel him bristle with indignation. She didn’t need to look at him to know that.

‘I am not a Valdez.’ Max’s response was harsh and razor sharp.

Raul’s mother looked at him and continued in her accented English, obviously wanting Lisa to understand. ‘You may not like to admit it, but you are. More than you will ever know.’

‘I think not.’ The growled response was fierce, full of denial.

‘You are, Max. There is no doubt that you are Maximiliano’s son and it is far more than good looks which makes me say this.’ Raul’s mother looked into his eyes and Lisa could see her expression soften. This was a woman who didn’t blame him, didn’t hate him and was extending the hand of friendship. Maybe she knew he’d lost his mother as a teenager and all too soon after losing his father.

Further thoughts were cast aside as Max cursed in Spanish. ‘I have no wish to be like my father.’

Raul’s mother turned and looked back at her son and Lisa wondered how this was all really affecting her. Then she turned her attention back to Max and touched him gently on the arm. Max looked down at her hand, a stark contrast to charcoal grey of his suit. She saw Max swallow, as if he was trying to gulp down the pain of the past, and Lisa realised she knew very little of it—just as he knew very little of her.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she spoke in a hushed tone, but still in English. ‘There is no denying you are his son, just as there is no denying you are Raul’s brother. Don’t run from the truth, Max, face it. Own it. Make it your friend, not your enemy.’

Lisa frowned. What was this woman talking about?

‘Thank you for your advice, signora. I will give it some thought, but right now my wife and I need to leave.’

‘We do?’ Lisa sensed there was more to this conversation if only he’d participate in it, but she also knew Max and pushing him to do anything he didn’t want to do was useless.

He put his arm around Lisa in a show of affection she knew wasn’t real, pulling her close, and that instant spark of heat surged through her, much to her annoyance. ‘We are returning to England for Christmas.’

‘How romantic.’ Raul’s mother smiled at her. ‘It looks like you don’t need my advice after all.’

Lisa hid her confusion behind a bright smile of her own. What was he talking about? Christmas in England? With Max?

* * *

Max looked at Raul’s mother, questioning if the genuine warmth in her voice and soft brown eyes was really directed at him—her husband’s secret love child. A stab of something approaching jealousy pierced him as he thought of his own mother, her unhappiness after his father, this woman’s husband, had left. He recalled the defeat in everything she’d done since that day. Even though she’d found a gentle and loving man in his stepfather, she’d never had the will to properly fight her cancer and by the time Angelina had brought a smile back to her face, it was too late to win that particular battle.

Life had been cruel and hard for his mother. When her cancer diagnosis had been confirmed she was pregnant and her choice at that time was to delay treatment and save the baby. She only got to spend a few years with her new daughter. Max hated the memories from those dark days. He’d ignored his sister once he’d been told the full truth of her illness, but his mother had talked him round, made him see it had been her choice and then extracted his promise to look after Angelina. He was now her fiercest protector, although he knew she thought of him as nothing more than a tyrant big brother. At least it didn’t involve emotions that way.

He refocused his mind, determined not to get sidetracked by the past. ‘Lisa and I spent last Christmas in the sunshine for our honeymoon. I intend to give Lisa the Christmas she has always dreamed of.’

‘Very romantic.’ Raul’s mother smiled at Lisa and he felt her body freeze next to him, as if the hardest frost of the winter had descended. Lisa obviously had no intention of being romantic with him, but would his planned surprise soften her? Would it show her he could play the role of dutiful husband and protective father without the need for love to complicate it all?

‘It will be fun, if not romantic,’ Lisa said resolutely, looking anywhere but at him. She might have missed Raul’s mother’s frown, but he didn’t. Life had taught him to look beyond mere words, to look for more in a person’s actions. It was the only way to safeguard himself and those around him from dangerous emotions that only caused upset and pain. The kind of emotions he would never expose himself to again.

Raul’s mother reached out and laid her hand on his arm for a second time. This time he had to fight hard against the instinct to pull away, avoid any kind of contact. It was his default setting, but somehow he managed not to. Instead he looked at her, trying to decipher what was really going through her mind.

‘I don’t blame you for any of this,’ she said, looking directly and earnestly into his eyes, just as his mother had done the day she’d told him the truth about his father, knowing she didn’t have long. Savagely, he pushed that to the back of his mind. ‘And neither must you blame yourself.’

‘There is only one person to blame and he is no longer with us to accept that blame.’ The harsh words rushed from him in an uncustomary display of hurt. He took a deep breath, determined to lock himself back behind his barrier, his wall of protection. She was getting too close. The only other woman to have got that close to his emotions since his mother had died was Lisa. And that had done neither of them any good.

Raul’s mother spoke again, this time in fluid Spanish. Was it because she didn’t want Lisa to know or was it because it was truly meant? But as he watched her turn and walk away, mingling with other guests, the pain of his childhood began to resurface.

‘I’m guessing that wasn’t good.’ Lisa’s voice jolted him back to the present, thankfully shutting away the past, the pain and knowledge that he didn’t deserve the kind of happiness she’d been looking for when they’d married.

‘Apparently I am like my father, but I don’t have to be.’

Lisa’s perplexed expression reassured him that he wasn’t the only one who was unable to decode whatever message was within that statement, but her next words threw that into disarray.

‘You are also like your brother,’ she said tentatively, her green eyes ever watchful.

Was she still holding out for love and happiness, the kind that sparked around the bride and groom? Raul had confessed on their very first meeting in London that he didn’t do emotions and that had been the fine thread that had pulled them together, allowing them to bond. Two brothers rejected by the same man. Either Raul was a liar or a very good actor.

He shook his head in denial. ‘We might look similar, but that is where it ends.’

He looked over at Raul as he lowered his head to kiss Lydia and even he could see the love between them. From the other side of the room he could feel it, heavy in the air. The man was a liar. A damn good one. He did do emotions and the most painful one of all.

‘Are you sure?’ Lisa’s breathy whisper irritated him, sure as he was that it was intended to evoke emotions from him. What was she pushing him to admit? That he loved her, that they too would find the happiness Raul and Lydia had? Well, she’d be disappointed.

‘Absolutely, now if we are to arrive in England on time, we should leave now.’ He changed the subject, diverted her attention, hoping to distract her from the destructive course the conversation had veered to after Raul’s mother had left them.

‘They have only just said their vows,’ Lisa implored, her green eyes full of confusion. ‘We can’t leave now.’

‘We can and we will.’ He put his arm in the small of her back, ignoring the jolt of heat that rushed through him, and gently but firmly propelled her through the guests. ‘After we wish the bride and groom well.’

* * *

Before Lisa could process what was happening, a radiant Lydia was smiling at her. ‘I hear congratulations are in order, that you are Max are going to be parents.’

‘Yes.’ This was the hardest bit of acting she’d done since arriving in Madrid.

Raul and Max were suddenly deep in conversation, turned slightly away, and Lisa had never felt so excluded. Lydia must have noticed. ‘They are talking about their father’s will. It seems he’d had help all along from one very corrupt member of the board, but I bet he never expected Raul to find his brother and welcome him into the business as well as get married.’

Lydia’s light laughter didn’t quite disguise the undercurrent of seriousness of her words and Lisa vowed to ask Max about it later. In fact, maybe now would be a good time to find out more about the man who was her child’s father. But that would mean revealing more about herself, her childhood brought up on the wrong side of town where police visits to her house happened with alarming regularity.

‘Lisa and I will look forward to seeing you in London for Angelina’s twenty-first birthday party.’ Max’s words dragged her mind back from the brink of those dark days as he pulled her close against him in a pretence of affection.

‘We wouldn’t miss it.’ Raul’s deep and accented voice was so like Max’s it was hardly believable.

‘You’re not going on honeymoon?’ Lisa asked before giving it any thought.

‘My wife is a romantic,’ Max said quickly as if it was something to apologise for, the sting of hurt bringing heat to her cheeks.

‘Then you are very lucky,’ Raul said as he looked into his wife’s eyes, making a connection that almost excluded her and Max. ‘And so too am I.’

‘I think we should leave you two alone.’ Max’s stern voice hardly dented the aura of love in the air and the newly-weds barely noticed. ‘Especially as I have romantic plans in England.’

* * *

Lisa had resisted the urge to ask any further questions as the small jet plane had flown to England. The dark and brooding scowl on Max’s face had been enough to see to that, but with each passing hour his mood had deepened and she was beginning to feel he was further away than ever from her. Unreachable.

She’d never imagined Christmas Eve would be like this. It had gone from the wonderful moment of seeing two people in love say their vows to a cold and stony silence that was frostier than the weather they’d returned to. That silence had deepened, becoming more Arctic as a sleek black car had pulled up at the steps of the plane and Max had ushered her into the passenger seat and then settled himself in the driver’s seat. They had left the airport and driven, not toward his London apartment as she’d thought, but out into the darkness of the countryside.

‘This is where we will be spending Christmas.’ His deep and all too sensual voice shocked her as he spoke in the darkness of the car. His gaze was firmly fixed on the road ahead, lit by the strong beams of the car’s headlights, as he manoeuvred his sleek sports car off the main road and onto a smaller one. Around them was nothing but darkness. She had no idea where they were. All she knew was that they’d left London behind over an hour ago.

‘Where are we?’ The mystery was too much for her tired mind, but as the car turned another corner, a cottage, festooned in festive lights, sprang from the darkness of the countryside. The yellow glow of lights from the windows warned her they were arriving at someone else’s home. One very much occupied.

‘You wanted Christmas and if my memory serves me right, your idea of Christmas, something like this.’ There was the faintest hint of amusement in his voice, but she wasn’t going to be fooled or lulled into a false sense of security, not after the hard and cold mood he’d been in all day.

‘But I told you that a long time ago. Before we were married.’ Inwardly she cursed herself for saying that word, for reminding them both of the issues that lay between them.

‘You did. You said you’d always imagined spending it at a cosy country cottage, complete with Christmas lights and a log fire.’ He moved toward her in the darkness of the car, the leather of the seat scrunching softly above the subtle hum of the engine. Her heart leapt as she inhaled his scent. Why did she have to react so acutely to him?

‘I never thought...’ Her voice trailed off in a whisper. He’d done this for her?

‘I give you exactly that.’ He looked over at her as he turned off the engine stopped and an expectant silence filled the car, wrapping around them. ‘Christmas in a country cottage.’

‘But whose cottage is it?’ It was late on Christmas Eve and she wanted to know just whose Christmas they would be descending on.

‘Ours—for Christmas, that is.’

‘And you did all this?’ He’d remembered all she’d said when they were dating, how she’d never had a Christmas that had been special, how she’d wanted the tree, the trimmings, the lights and champagne in front of an open fire. Didn’t that mean something? That he cared?

‘You doubt that I could be a family man, one who cares, and this is my way of showing you otherwise.’ A determined firmness entered his voice but she refused to spoil the moment by thinking too hard about what he’d just said. She didn’t want to acknowledge the true implications of this. She just wanted to enjoy this special moment, imagine this was how they really were.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she said as she opened the car door and got out, smiling at the traditional wreath hanging on the green-painted door. It was her dream Christmas and the man who claimed not to be able to love her had brought her here.

The night air was cold and crisp. Exactly what she’d always imagined in her idea of a perfect Christmas. The only glitch was that she’d imagined spending it with the man she loved, one she’d foolishly thought had loved her too. If she put that notion to one side, she could make a memory to hold onto, one to cherish when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve and all this pretence of affection, of wanting to be a father, came crashing down.

‘I hope you like it because we are here until we return to London for Angelina’s birthday party and then there will, of course, be the New Year’s Eve party.’ His breath hung in the air, clouding around her, and she smiled up at him. Surely it meant something? He wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble otherwise. The pain and anger which had built up since they’d gone their separate ways thawed even as the night air chilled.

‘I won’t know until I see it,’ she teased him, anxious now to see what his idea of the perfect Christmas cottage was like inside and trying hard to stifle the hope that he really did want her and the baby in his life. To allow that hope to grow would be foolish.

He smiled at her. Warmth filled his eyes that she hadn’t seen for a long time and her heart constricted with the effort of not letting her love show. She wanted to reach up and kiss his lips, to snuggle against him and be held in his arms.

‘Very well.’ He took out a key from his pocket and opened the door, the old key turning in the lock, sounding loud in the dark stillness of the winter night.

She pushed open the door and the heat from inside the cottage rushed at her. The scent of Christmas filled the air as he followed her in, but having him standing so close behind her made her feel weak as her legs trembled. She tried to ignore it, looking around the festive feast of decorations in the room, of which a real tree was the centrepiece.

It stood beside the fire, which glowed with orange warmth, creating the perfect scene. Beneath the tree were presents and its branches were heavy with coloured baubles and lights. How had he managed to arrange all this? The fact that he had even thought of it infused her with hope. Maybe he wasn’t so immune to her or the idea of fatherhood. Maybe there was a future for them.

‘I love it,’ she whispered as she pulled her cashmere scarf off and walked into the room. ‘But how did you manage all this when we were in Madrid?’ With arms wide she gestured around her. The whole room looked as if the owners had just stepped outside for a moment.

‘I rented the cottage and specified exactly what I wanted, even down to the mistletoe.’ He moved closer to her and pulled her toward him and under the piece of mistletoe adorned with white berries. The darkening of his eyes left her in no doubt that Christmas decorations were the furthest thing from his mind right now and her resolve to keep her distance melted like ice in front of the fire.

‘Thank you.’ She moved toward him, wanting to make the most of the change in him. It must have been Raul and Lydia’s wedding that had been darkening his mood over recent days, not impending fatherhood as she’d thought. She’d been too sensitive—too emotional. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘As are you.’ The deep tone of his voice and heavy accent left her in no doubt where this was going to lead. A sliver of doubt crept in, threatening to spoil the moment, but she pushed it aside. It was Christmas Eve and didn’t wishes made on Christmas Eve come true?

‘Max,’ she said as he took her in his arms, pulling her against the hardness of his body. She could feel his warmth through the heavy coat he wore and her heart somersaulted just from being in his arms. ‘Is this really what you want?’

He looked at her, dark eyes hooded with building desire. ‘We had something good, Lisa, and I have every intention of finding it again, especially as it is Christmas.’

Before she could protest or ask him just what he meant, his lips brushed teasingly over hers. Her resolve didn’t melt. It blew apart into millions of pieces and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself closer. Right now she didn’t care what he meant. She just wanted to feel the passion, the desire that this man, the man she loved, evoked in her.

‘Here?’ She breathed the word against his lips, pleased to hear the feral growl her whisper created.

Never in her life had she been so bold, so empowered. Her love for him changed her, made her a different woman. A real woman. She took hold of the lapels of his coat and kissed him, letting every bit of desire in her show. Then, with purposeful intent, she slid her hands inside the coat and up to his shoulders before pushing off the heavy fabric. All the time her eyes held his, daring him to want her—daring him to stop her.

‘I have been reliably informed that every room in the cottage has been prepared for Christmas. Maybe now would be a good time to see what the master bedroom has to offer.’