Читать книгу Modern Romance October Books 1-4 - Мишель Смарт, Miranda Lee - Страница 21
ОглавлениеSOPHIE DIDN’T KNOW whether to throw her arms around Javier in her relief or push him down the steps.
She’d searched everywhere in that huge apartment for him, refusing to believe he would have left without her.
She’d only confronted the truth when she’d gone outside to look and Michael, his driver, who’d been waiting for them, had gently told her Javier had chosen to walk home.
That had been three hours ago.
The realisation that he’d abandoned her with a roomful of strangers had knocked all the wind out of her.
She’d been too shocked to be angry.
Then the time had passed while she’d waited for him to come home and the anger had built.
That anger had been giving way to concern when she had spotted him in the CCTV camera feed she’d sat herself in front of.
Now she didn’t know how she felt, just that she was so full of contrary emotions that she would either cry or scream.
He stared back at her, his features taut, a pulse throbbing on his jaw, hands rammed in his pockets, breathing heavily.
He was the one to break the oppressive silence.
‘You need to step out of my way.’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Sophie, at this moment I do not trust myself to be anywhere near you. Get out of my way.’
Holding her ground, she folded her arms across her chest. ‘No.’
He swore loudly.
‘I’m not moving until you tell me why you left me at the party without a—’
‘You didn’t look as if you’d care,’ he spat back, suddenly springing to life to brush past her and enter the house.
She pushed the door shut and turned in time to see him storm up the stairs.
Barefooted, holding the skirt of her dress up, she pursued him.
She might be pregnant but she was still quick and she reached the bedroom door before he could slam it shut and lock her out.
‘Sophie, you need to leave,’ he told her tightly as he held the door frame, his knuckles white, refusing her admittance. ‘Sleep in another room tonight. We will talk in the morning when I am not so angry.’
‘When you’re not so angry? I’m the only one who should be angry. You abandoned me.’
He winced at her choice of word.
Good. So he damned well should wince.
‘I told Michael I was walking home. I knew he would get you back safely.’
‘You left me there. You humiliated me in front of all those people who were already laughing at me.’
‘If you felt humiliated you did a fine job of hiding it. You looked like you were having a damned good time without me. Now, I need you to go.’
‘I am not going anywhere. You’re not shutting me out, Javier. Why did you leave? Tell me!’
‘It was either leave or throw your boyfriend out of the window. Would you have preferred I do that?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I saw you, carina. With that man. Laughing with him.’
She suddenly remembered the Englishman she’d briefly chatted with, the only bright spot of her entire night. ‘My God, were you jealous? Is that what this is all about?’
‘Right now, I do not know anything other than that I cannot trust myself to be in the same room as you and you need to get the hell out of my sight until I am calm.’
Struggling for air, her heart thumping, Sophie took a step back, saw Javier loosen his hold on the frame of the door and, before he could close it, used the advantage of surprise to push past him and into the bedroom.
‘Get out!’ he howled.
‘No, I will not! You’re behaving like an idiot. All I was doing was talking. Or is that illegal now? Do I need your permission to talk to a man? Or maybe you would like to cover me in a bin bag when I leave the house? And what do you even care?’ she continued, her voice getting louder as she gathered momentum, all her bottled-up feelings rising like poison inside her. ‘I’m just a possession to you, aren’t I? The second-best wife, not as good as your first choice, not as perfect, not good enough to be taken out in public with pride because I’m only a second-rate ballerina, not as pretty—’
‘That’s enough!’
His roar echoed through the walls as he lunged for her, taking hold of her biceps and leaning down to her, his breath hot on her face. ‘Don’t you ever put yourself down again, do you hear me? You are worth a million Freyas. Don’t you see that? You are the most incredible, special person I have ever met in my life and it scares the hell out of me that one day I might hurt you. I felt nothing for Freya and she felt nothing for me and that was safe. You do not make me feel safe. You make me feel things I should never feel and the thought of anyone hurting a hair on your beautiful head makes me want to rip heads off bodies and that’s what I’ve been fighting against since you walked into my life because I know the biggest danger to you is me.’
If a heart could burst then hers just did.
‘Oh, Javier,’ she whispered, a tear spilling down her cheek as she put a trembling hand to his face and gazed helplessly at the eyes that swirled with more emotion than she could have ever hoped to see in them. ‘You are not your father.’
Javier stared at the beautiful, open face that haunted his every waking and sleeping moment and suddenly he was lost.
Pushing her against the wall, he kissed her with every ounce of feeling contained inside him.
Her lips parted to welcome him and then they were clinging together, her arms tight around his neck as he fed on her kisses like a condemned man taking his one last meal.
A desperation he had never felt before overcame him, a need to touch and be touched, and it hit him like a fever in his brain, the blood that had sprung to life all that time ago for this beautiful, incredible woman awake and crashing through his body, refusing to be denied or ignored any longer.
He lifted her into his arms and cradled her in them, gazing into her eyes as he carried her to the bed, marvelling with wonder at the colours and emotions he saw in their depths.
How had he never seen them before?
And she stared back with equal intensity.
Laying her on the bed, he put his palm to her cheek and caressed the satin skin his fingers always yearned to touch.
And then he kissed her again.
And then he was drowning.
Working as one as they devoured each other with their mouths, they stripped their clothes off, throwing them without a care for where they landed, the need to be naked in each other’s arms too strong to care for anything but this moment, this here, this now.
Because whatever fever had him in its grip, it was in Sophie too, there in the hunger of her kisses and the urgency of her touch.
He wanted to feel every part of her, to give this woman who sang to his heart all the passion and love that had broken free from its casing for her.
He opened his ears to her sighs and let them seep into his senses and then he opened all his senses to her.
He was helpless to do anything else.
And she opened her senses to him.
Her fingers traced lightly over his chest, exploring him, her mouth following, her nose brushing over his skin to breathe him in, touching him in a way he had never been touched before.
Every breath of her mouth to his flesh seeped deep inside him to the bones that lay beneath.
He brushed his lips over every part of her too. He inhaled the scent of her skin so deeply that it became a part of him. He kissed her breasts and felt their weight in his hands. He ran his fingers over her belly, a distant part of him awed at what lay inside it but only a distant part because this moment was not about their child, this moment was for her, for him, for them.
When he inhaled the musky heat between her legs, he almost lost himself entirely.
How had he blocked it out so well before and for so long?
It was a scent he would remember for the rest of his life.
If he could love any woman it would be this one, he thought dimly, pressing a kiss to her hip before pushing himself back up to stare into the pale blue eyes once more.
Sophie gazed into the eyes staring at her with such hunger and felt every part of her expand and contract.
She pressed a hand to his face. He rubbed his cheek against it and kissed her palm. And then he kissed her mouth with such possessiveness that her heart bloomed.
Every part of her bloomed.
Her skin was alive from the flames of his touch, everything heated, scorched, her veins lava...and that was lava reflecting back at her in the depth of his stare and she realised that for the first time she was staring right into the heart of this man she loved so much.
The sense of detachment that had always been there...gone.
This was Javier as she had dreamed, touching her and making love to her as if she were the most revered thing in his life, holding her so close their skin could become one and their hearts unite.
His eyes stayed open, boring into her when he entered and...
Oh, the sensation that erupted within her...
This was everything. Everything.
Javier had no recall of entering her; found himself buried deep inside Sophie with her arms locked around him and his hands resting against her cheeks.
The expression reflecting back at him as he made love to her, the wonder, the tenderness...
The void he’d fought against for so long welcomed him into its depths.
He submitted to it.
* * *
Javier woke with a start, opening his eyes to the darkness.
Sophie was draped over him, the delicious weight of her thigh hooked over his, her arm locked around his waist.
His heart pounded, his guts felt as if he’d been punched and for a moment it was as if he’d forgotten how to breathe.
What the hell had he done?
He’d lost all control of himself.
With Sophie.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and fought to inhale.
His movement must have disturbed her for she shifted, pressing herself closer to him; as if it was even possible for her to get any closer.
She could. She did.
He didn’t know if she was fully awake when her lips brushed against his neck and she rolled on top of him, her cheek pressed to his, her silky hair falling softly onto his face, or if she was in the midst of a dream.
It felt as if he were in a dream of his own when she sank onto his hardness, a dream that had him holding her tightly, possessively, while deep in the back of his mind came the thought that if anything happened to this woman he would want to die.
* * *
Sophie stretched a leg out and smiled before she’d even opened her eyes.
This was the start of a new day that would mark the beginning of her new life.
This was the day that marked the true start of her marriage.
The breakthrough she had so longed for had finally been reached. Javier had opened himself up to her and then he had made love to her. Truly made love to her, with his heart and his mind as well as his body.
She still wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would be plain sailing from here on in, but what they had found together under these sheets and the connection that embraced them tightly together...
She opened her eyes and her heart sank as if it had a weight attached to it to find the empty space between them.
Javier had moved to the edge of the bed, his back to her.
It wasn’t his mesmerising face she was greeted with after the best night of her life but his cold shoulder.
She blew a puff of air out and told herself to put a curb on her imagination.
He’d rolled over? He’d probably been uncomfortable. He probably hadn’t even done it consciously.
But that was a huge distance. To reach him she would have to stretch a hand out...
Before she had the chance to do so, he suddenly pushed the sheets off and climbed out of bed.
He strolled to the bathroom and shut the door without looking at her.
Disturbed but telling herself she was being silly, trying her hardest not to make a big deal out of something she didn’t even know what, Sophie hurried to the dressing room and threw on an oversized T-shirt and a pair of leggings.
She needed to act normal.
Before she could leave the bedroom, he appeared from the bathroom, a towel around his waist.
‘Good morning,’ she said brightly.
She was answered with a grunt.
‘I’m going to check on Frodo. Do you want a coffee?’
‘I’ll get one when I come down.’
‘Okay... Is everything all right?’
He cast her a quick glance. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
She shrugged, not knowing how to answer, and backed out of the room.
Frodo was asleep at the bottom of the stairs. He woke up at her footsteps and wagged his tail excitedly to see her.
At least someone was happy to see her, she thought unhappily, scooping him up.
Javier was being...well, he was being exactly how he always was first thing in the morning: moody and distant.
He wasn’t a morning person.
She’d try to add an extra sugar to his coffee to sweeten him up, she decided, brushing away the anxiety now gnawing in her belly.
She found Marsela laying out the breakfast stuff in the dining room and thanked her for looking after Frodo. ‘I’ll sort some money out for you when I go back up to get changed,’ she promised.
Marsela looked positively affronted. ‘I don’t want your money. It was my pleasure to look after him.’
On impulse, Sophie planted a kiss to the sweet Spanish woman’s cheek, the exact moment Javier came into the dining room.
Marsela hurried out.
He took a seat at the table and swiped at his phone. ‘You are too familiar with the staff,’ he said, not looking at her.
‘Am I?’
‘Yes.’
She sat opposite him and put Frodo down at her feet. ‘Marsela’s my age. I like her. If I want to be friends with her then I shall.’
His jaw clenched but he said nothing further.
Breakfast was brought in and placed between them.
‘I was thinking of taking Frodo for a walk in the park later. Do you want to come?’
‘I’m going to the office.’
She tried to cover her disappointment. ‘On a Saturday?’
‘I have much to organise before my trip to Cape Town.’
‘That’s not for another week,’ she pointed out.
‘I’m looking to bring it forward.’
‘Any reason?’
‘To get things moving quicker.’
‘We’ve got the scan on Wednesday,’ she reminded him. He hadn’t promised he would be there, only promised that he would try. She had wanted to push it but had held back.
If this had been a conversation held an hour ago she would have pushed it, secure in the cocoon of passion they had created together.
‘If I can come then I will come,’ he answered shortly.
She was bewildered at the change in him.
The cold, emotionless man was back with a vengeance.
He drank his coffee and got to his feet.
‘You’re going to the office now?’
‘Yes. I’ll let you know if I’m not going to make it back for dinner.’
Stunned and hurt at the indifference being displayed, she watched him walk out before suddenly calling out to him. ‘Javier.’
‘What?’
She almost recoiled to see the coldness in his eyes.
‘Last night...’ But she couldn’t say anything more. Her throat had closed up.
‘What about it?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
He left without saying goodbye.
* * *
Sophie was grateful to have Frodo as a distraction. Although still small, he was unrecognisable as the damaged puppy she had found on the kerb. Playful and loving, he had a marvellous time playing in the park with the other dogs and Sophie soon found other owners to talk with. For the first time, a complete stranger asked her if she was pregnant.
The thickening around her waist was turning into a small but recognisable swell, more pronounced on her petite frame than it would otherwise be. She was barely halfway through the pregnancy. There was still a long way to go.
But she had experienced flutterings in recent weeks, real, unmistakable signs that the baby inside her was growing strongly, that it was a baby in there.
On the short walk back to the house, she bought a newspaper from a vendor she passed. Javier would laugh at her for absorbing the news the old-fashioned way but she much preferred to read it in paper format than through a screen.
Reading the paper would be another good distraction. She no longer had to avoid the news, the Javier-Freya-Benjamin saga relegated to history.
Except it wasn’t.
Her insides twisted with pain for her husband.
Page nine contained a half-page story on the marriage of Luis Casillas and Chloe Guillem.
