She had fallen in love with him.
Well, more fool her.
He stands to inherit the family business. Cristina’s words were branded on Hollie’s brain like fire.
If he’d told her himself, she might have understood. If he’d said Look, this baby means that I can get something I’ve always lusted after, she probably could have accepted it. If he’d kept it coldly businesslike from the beginning, then perhaps she wouldn’t have built up all those fantasies in her head. But he hadn’t and that had given her imagination a free rein. No wonder she thought she’d seen a look of triumph on his face when he’d asked if they could announce the pregnancy. He was probably rubbing his hands with glee at the thought of all that new power.
She picked up her phone, turning it over and over in her hand before finally tapping her fingers over the keypad. It took longer than it should have done but that was because her hands were trembling so much. She kept the message short—because, really, it all boiled down to one simple fact whichever way you looked at it.
Maximo...
A tear dripped onto the back of her hand and, impatiently, she shook it away before continuing to type.
Being back in Devon has given me a bit of time to reflect on things and I just don’t think it’s going to work out between us.
Her finger hovered as she battled between the desire to put as much distance between them as possible and the knowledge that she needed to act like a grown-up.
If you like we can talk in a couple of days. Hollie.
She didn’t put any kisses, and that drove home the realisation that there had never been any of the stuff which defined most normal love affairs. No letters or texts of undying devotion. Just sex and a baby and a big diamond ring. She thought about the turrets and towers of Kastelloes and the thick snow which had trapped them there. She remembered how grateful she had been to that inclement weather, because it had brought her into Maximo’s arms. She’d been blown away by her Spanish lover, and hopeful when he’d opened up his heart to her. The world had felt tinged with magic, when all the time...
All the time he had been using their marriage as a way of getting his hands on the family business.
What a trusting fool she had been.
Well, not any more.
She had once told Maximo that she could do all this on her own and she would—with or without his financial assistance. Because anything would be preferable to a lifetime of deceit.
She tugged the heavy ring from her finger and it clattered as she put it on the table and then, letting out a shuddered breath, she laid her face against her cradled arms and wept.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A THIN DRIZZLE of rain coated the windscreen in a slimy film as the car turned into the wintry English road. Maximo eased his foot off the accelerator, bringing the powerful vehicle almost to a halt so that it crept along at a snail’s pace. He stared fixedly ahead, not caring if he was wasting time. Because he needed time to work out what he was going to do. To assemble his whirling thoughts into some sort of order before he saw Hollie.
To say what?
He still didn’t know.
He thought about the bald little message he had received from her.
I just don’t think it’s going to work out between us...
He had been taken aback by the dark surge of pain which had flooded through him.
He had wanted to lift the phone and demand to know what had made her write it, but something made him change his mind—though he didn’t stop to think what that might be. Instead, he sought a solution in action, because that was how he operated. He had ordered his jet to be made ready and within hours had flown into Exeter airport, planning his movements with the precision of a cat burglar.
Unobserved, he had watched Hollie leave the office and a wave of relief had swamped him as he’d seen her familiar figure walking towards the bus stop. And although every part of him had ached to drive up and tell her to get in the car, he’d resisted the powerful temptation to do so, because he didn’t want any kind of confrontation or public spectacle. He didn’t want to run the risk of her refusing to travel with him.
He had seen the chill wind blowing at her hair, but the tresses were no longer unfettered and free as he liked them. They had been tamed beneath a hat he’d never seen her wear before, and the coat she was huddling into was not one of the items he had bought her, but a well-worn relic from her old wardrobe. It was as if she had embraced her old life and cut him out completely, he thought, and his heart gave another painful clench as he increased the speed of the car.
Once he had vowed never to let a woman close enough to hurt him. What had happened to that fervent vow from which he had never wavered? The vow he’d made on his knees on that snowy Christmas Eve in Spain, all those years ago.
You could leave now while there’s still time, a cold and pragmatic voice in his head reminded him.
But he ignored it.
His car slid to a halt outside her tiny cottage and he crunched his way up the gravel path. Ignoring the twee little bell which dangled in the porch, he lifted his arm and began to pound on the door and the mighty sound created by his fist echoed through the still night air.
Someone was knocking at her door and Hollie paused in the middle of washing up her teacup. No, it was more like a pounding. The sound which someone who was in a hurry—or a temper—would make. Someone autocratic and powerful who wouldn’t think twice about making enough noise to wake the dead.
Her throat dried. There was only one person she knew who would knock like that. Was that why her heart started racing as she put her teacup down and headed for the door? Or was it just that deep down she’d been expecting this visit and now the moment had arrived, she felt a terrible fatalistic sorrow washing over her?
Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled open the door and there stood Maximo. His hair was windswept and he was dressed in the black clothes which were so familiar, but Hollie had never seen that expression on his face before. It was tense. Brittle. As if he were holding something dark and unwanted inside him. His eyes narrowed, and then he spoke.
‘Can I come in, please, Hollie?’
Did he really think she would refuse him entry? That she would want to? Because even though she recognised that the final minutes of their relationship were ticking away, Hollie wasn’t feeling the things she wanted to feel. Despite the fact that he had used her as a pawn in his ambitious game plan, she wasn’t hating him, or not fancying him. Her stupid stomach still turned to mush when he brushed past her, forcing her to shut the door on the drizzly evening outside.
For a minute she was tempted to throw herself into his arms in an effort to blot out all those things she’d discovered. Or even to ask if he’d like some coffee after his long journey, in a futile desire to put off the inevitable. To act as if she were still going to be his wife and make like they were going to be a happy family.