Kitabı oku: «Christmas Kisses: The Spanish Billionaire's Christmas Bride / Christmas Bride-To-Be / Christmas Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses», sayfa 3

CHAPTER THREE

NO PRESSURE, then …

‘I’m still unsure,’ she replied. ‘They’ve already organised the rota at the restaurant, and I’ve promised I’ll work.’

‘And, apart from working, how were you planning on spending the rest of the holiday?’ Cristiano asked quietly.

The question was apt to make her burst into tears. Biting her lip, Dominique covered her distress by briefly raising her cup to her lips and carefully sipping at her drink. ‘I was just going to spend it quietly with Matilde.’

‘You were not planning on spending any time with your mother?’

Dominique tensed even more. ‘She’s going skiing with friends, like she always does at Christmas. I probably wouldn’t have seen her anyway.’

Cristiano stared at Dominique in disbelief. Her mother was going away with friends, leaving her daughter and grandchild to spend the Christmas holidays entirely alone? He understood that other cultures had different ways of doing things, but this was surely one of the most unnatural things he had ever heard!

Although offended on Dominique’s and the baby’s behalf, he quickly saw an opportunity for making his case even more compelling, and did not hesitate to take it.

‘Christmas where I come from is a truly magical season,’ he intoned softly, the edges of his lips lifting in genuine pleasure at the thought. ‘At the centre of the tradition is the belén—what you call here the Nativity. The scene is recreated using all kinds of lovingly collected materials and passed down through each family, generation to generation. It is something we take great pride in. Sometimes whole communities get together to make the belén, and you will find them in many public places as well as in the churches. On Christmas Eve—what we call Nochebuena—the church bells sound joyfully, calling everyone to mass, and afterwards we all return home for a fantastic feast. When that is over we gather round the Christmas tree to sing carols. It is a time for warmth and community … not a time to be alone!’

Dominique’s big blue eyes were round with wonder. Gratified, Cristiano could see that he’d captivated her with the inviting picture his words had conjured up.

‘My mother has never believed in making a big fuss at Christmas,’ she sighed, her slender shoulders drooping a little in the plain black dress. ‘In fact she’s always dreaded it rather than looked forward to it. A “commercial rip-off”, she calls it. That’s why she prefers to go away rather than stay at home.’

‘Your mother has her view on the matter and I have mine. But one thing is for certain … you and the little one cannot spend Christmas alone. Consuela would be beside herself if she heard such a thing!’

‘Consuela?’

‘Ramón’s mother.’ Cristiano leant towards her, renewed determination in his heart as he thought of the aunt he loved and adored as much as his own mother. ‘Come back with me to Spain, Dominique. You will not regret it, I promise.’

‘You mean for Christmas? What about my job at the restaurant? I might lose it if I don’t work.’

He shook his head impatiently. ‘If it comes to it, I will ensure it will not be a problem. I told you … from now on I see it as my duty and responsibility to provide for you, and instead of worrying about how to make ends meet if you stay in the UK you will be able to concentrate on the most important job of all in Spain … that of raising your child.’

‘And if I decide to accept your offer and stay … what about your own immediate family?’ she asked him reasonably. ‘Do you have a wife and children? If so, won’t they mind you inviting a complete stranger and her baby into your home?’

His body tensing, Cristiano waited for the inevitable feeling of sorrow and regret that pierced him to subside a little. The symptoms were like an illness that persisted, as raw as they had ever been, and he suspected he would never be free of them.

‘I have neither wife nor child,’ he replied, his jaw tightening. ‘So the problem would hardly arise. In any case, I am head of the Cordova family and I am entrusted to make decisions that are best for all.’

‘You mean … whatever you say goes?’

‘If you want to put it like that … yes.’

‘I see.’

‘Was there anything else you wanted to know?’

She pursed her lips and gazed straight ahead of her.

Cristiano’s brow furrowed. ‘Dominique?’

‘It’s just that … Well, is it right that I should contemplate going to live with Ramón’s family under the circumstances? I mean, when we’d already broken up and everything? It might have been different if we had been engaged to be married, but we weren’t.’

‘Did you want to marry him?’

‘No. That was something I never fooled myself about. Even when he was with me he never stopped admiring other girls. I was well aware he craved his freedom and detested the idea of a long-term commitment. A marriage between us wouldn’t have lasted five minutes!”

‘That may unfortunately have been the case, but I have to tell you that you have every right to expect the support of his family, Dominique. It is Matilde’s birthright we are talking about here! As well as my own responsibility towards her, Ramón had money and property that will naturally go to his daughter now that he is dead. Once you are established in Spain everything will be arranged legally.’

‘Assuming I agree to go, of course!’

Assessing the proud lift of her head and the continued defiance etched into her small, perfect jaw, Cristiano could not help but smile. Victory was close, he sensed, but he would not risk jeopardising it by displaying arrogance at such a crucial juncture.

‘I understand your concerns—it is unknown territory for you, and your fears about going to people you do not yet know are only natural. But you are an intelligent girl, and I think you are already aware that returning to Spain with me and the opportunities that would afford you if you decide to stay—as well as the family support you would receive—would surely make for a much better future than you could ever hope to enjoy here!’

She glanced away from him for a moment, chewing on her lip, her gaze reflective. ‘It’s a big step … moving to another country. All right. I’ll agree to go with you for Christmas, but after that … well, we’ll see. My main concern is that I make the right choices for my child. Naturally I want her to be with people who’ll love her as much as I do. And I’m well aware she probably won’t have that if I stay here. My mother is too bitter and disappointed in me to ever be the kind of grandmother I would wish for Matilde … I realise that.’

‘That is her loss—of that I have no doubt.’

Equal parts of anger and dismay clutched at Cristiano’s vitals when he thought about Dominique’s mother and her unforgiving, unnatural attitude towards her daughter. But he was also eager to ring home and give them some good news for a change. To let them know that Dominique and the baby would be coming back with him for Christmas would fill them with joy instead of the numbing sadness and grief they had been living with these past few weeks. A baby in the house would signify new life and a new beginning. New hope.

The thought laid a soft blanket over his own grief and despair, and he glanced at Dominique with genuine concern, seeing a young woman who clearly needed his protection and guidance. He could not let her down.

‘When can you be ready to leave?’ he asked her, stirring his coffee and taking a satisfying sip of the dark sweet brew.

Her cup rattling a little in its saucer as she placed it on the table, Dominique sank further back into her chair and folded her arms. ‘Well … I’ll have to discuss it with my manager at work, but I’d say the earliest I could go would be in about two weeks’ time. If I’m not going to be there over Christmas I’ll probably have to put in some extra hours to make up for my absence. There’ll be other things to arrange too … a medical check for Matilde, packing, and I’ll have to ask my neighbour to keep an eye on my place for me while I’m away.’

‘Two weeks is out of the question! I aim to be back in Spain in no more than a week, and I am not going back without you! You can arrange the little one’s medical check, but as for your work—I will be only too happy to speak to your manager and put him in the picture. You should be entitled to compassionate leave at the very least!’

Once again Dominique was made aware of the iron resolve of the man sitting opposite her. She recognised his natural proclivity for taking charge of both situations and people—and could not help feeling resentful. She had had a bellyful of being told what to do! Her teachers, her mother … everyone pushing and prodding her to achieve their own ends, not hers. If she was going to become part of this new Spanish family that her daughter had inherited then she had to establish for Cristiano Cordova the fact that she had a mind and a will of her own, and would not be backed into a corner by anyone.

‘That won’t be necessary. I’m quite capable of speaking to my manager myself, thank you! And if you can’t wait as long as two weeks, then why don’t you go back as planned and let me follow on later?’

‘No.’

Dominique had never heard such an intractable no in her life. Getting to his feet, Cristiano appeared suddenly restless, as if he had sat too long and was unused to such enforced inactivity.

‘We will return to Spain together and I will not hear of any other arrangement than that! Over the coming week I will be totally at your disposal to help you with whatever has to be done—and it will be done, rest assured. And, talking of travelling, you have an up-to-date passport, I presume?’

Dominique nodded, her expression stunned.

‘And Matilde?’

‘Well, no,’ Dominique answered. ‘There’s hardly been a need …’

‘No matter—I can easily speed things up with a word in the right ear at the embassy. And as for packing—you will not need to bring much with you when you first come out at all. I will ensure absolutely everything you need will be provided once we arrive back home.’

‘Can you turn water into wine too?’

He stared at her with a dark look in his eyes.

‘Very amusing! I can see that it will take time for you to become used to how I operate, Dominique, but you will soon learn. When I say a thing should be done then it is done without question, and I want you to know that I will be completely unrelenting in my goal to have Ramón’s daughter and her mother on Spanish soil sooner rather than later. I am absolutely adamant about that!’

Her cheeks twin beacons of indignant scarlet at his words, Dominique stubbornly refused to shy away from Cristiano’s arrogant gaze. But an icy chill of warning slid down her spine. Ramón had been right … his cousin was, indeed, formidable.

‘And I want you to know that whilst I may be young I’m no badly behaved five-year-old who needs to be told what to do—so don’t treat me like I am!’

‘Is that so? I will endeavour to try and remember that. I am beginning to see that Ramón certainly had his work cut out for him being with you, Dominique!’

To Dominique’s complete surprise, Cristiano’s steely-eyed glare was swiftly replaced by a teasing glance that made heat erupt inside her like a rip tide, scorching right through her centre.

Stunned by her disturbing response—and suddenly not feeling quite so defiant—she pushed to her feet. ‘I need to use the bathroom,’ she mumbled and, disconcerted that the smile had still not completely left her tormentor’s lips, she hurried away in the direction he indicated.

Standing in the luxurious marble bathroom, in front of a huge antique mirror edged with gold-painted rosebuds and curlicues, Dominique surveyed her flushed, heated face with impatience and surprise. What had just happened in there? Why was the man getting to her so? Dropping her shoulders, she flicked her hair back over her shoulder and sighed. She was scared, that was all. Fear was apt to make her anxious and edgy, liable to react nervously to even the most inconsequential thing.

But how could she feel anything but scared about the possibility of going to live in Spain amongst people she didn’t know, as well as putting herself under the daunting wing of a man like Cristiano Cordova? It hardly surprised her that he was a lawyer—no doubt a frighteningly successful one too. Once they were in his sphere, he would hold her and Matilde’s futures in his hands as ruthlessly and single-mindedly as he controlled the fates of the people he represented in court, she was sure.

Yet, even so, Dominique realised that this was the right thing to do for her child. She might not have had the chance to find out about her own father, or be close to his family, but Matilde would. And even though she could foresee that sparks would fly between herself and Cristiano—he would want to control her and Dominique would naturally want to resist being manipulated in any way—he had told her that his family were kind, loving people, and the picture he had painted so evocatively of the kind of Christmases they enjoyed had been compelling. Her heart had squeezed with longing for such an experience.

If only she could trust what he said, then maybe she could start to allow herself to hope that the future might not be so frightening as she feared. She ached to feel connected to the rest of the world again … not to be cut off by people who were so emotionally distant that they made Dominique feel like an island in a stark, cold sea. Her mother had scorned her for throwing away her future by having Matilde, but it was her emotional neglect that had driven her into Ramón Cordova’s arms in the first place.

Ramón. Even though he had been thoughtless and wild, and in the end had rejected her, when they’d been together he had given her more attention and affection than anyone else ever had. He had shown her what it was to laugh too, to be young and foolish and not to take life so seriously.

Suddenly it hit her hard that he was dead—his vibrant young life ended before it had really begun, leaving his child without even the possibility of ever meeting him. She felt her whole body sag towards the floor, as if some strange irresistible force were dragging her down, down into a dark abyss, and tears welled up in her eyes like hot springs, rolling down her cheeks in glistening wet tracks. Was she destined to be alone and unloved for ever? She almost couldn’t bear it.

‘Dominique? Is everything all right?’

Cristiano’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. Straightening in shock, Dominique ripped a tissue out of the chic box on the vanity unit, blew her nose and mumbled, ‘I’m fine. I just need a minute, okay?’

‘You are crying,’ he retorted, his voice accusing.

‘I suppose that’s a hanging offence where you come from?’ she burst out, unable to help herself.

‘Do not be so foolish! I never said it was an offence to cry.’

There was a surprisingly gentle quality to his tone that Dominique had not heard before.

‘But if you are upset I would like to help comfort you,’ he added.

Comfort … Spiritual, emotional, physical … It was the thing she longed for, but somehow it always escaped her. The distressing events of the past year had all but ripped away her confidence and trust in everything, and on top of that her hormones were going haywire after having Matilde.

‘You are the last person I would want to comfort me!’ she heard herself rail, before she could stem the impulse.

There was silence outside for a long moment, then Cristiano spoke again, his voice low and his words measured.

‘Maybe you would prefer it if it was my cousin standing outside this door talking to you? But as we both know that is not possible. You will simply have to make do with me. Open the door, Dominique.’

‘I don’t want Ramón!’ she answered, her tears coming faster. ‘Why would I want him? It was over between us a long time ago, and he walked out on me—remember? It’s just such a waste, that’s all—to die like that! A stupid, stupid waste!’

Glancing at her stricken expression sidelong in the mirror, Dominique gulped down another sob and dabbed feverishly at her reddened eyes.

‘Sometimes it is hard to make sense of these things, even when one has faith … But life goes on, yes? And you have a beautiful baby daughter to remember him by. Not all is lost.’

Strangely comforted by his words, Dominique took a deep breath, then shakily released the latch and opened the door. The handsome visage that confronted her was both grave and concerned, and she didn’t know why she should feel so guilty about yelling at him, but she did. He was, after all, throwing her a lifeline of sorts, as well as giving Matilde an opportunity to grow up knowing the family that had raised her father …

‘There is a park close by,’ Cristiano told her, dark eyes assessing her tear-stained face with intimate scrutiny. ‘The day is bright and cold—I think we should take a walk together and get some air. What do you say?’

‘I don’t know. Yes … all right.’ But even as she agreed, Dominique sensed her lip quiver uncontrollably and her face crumple. ‘I’m just so tired!’ she breathed mournfully, dipping her head. ‘So tired of everything!’

In the next instant Cristiano had propelled her into his arms and was cradling her head against his chest, just over his heart. The steady, even throb of his heartbeat and the comforting sensation of warmth and strength that emanated from his hard, masculine body made Dominique curl her fingers into his fine wool sweater for added security, and she gratefully shut her eyes, feeling as if they stood together in the eye of a storm. She prayed it would soon pass. But her scalding tears would not be so easily contained, and they seeped from her eyelids in a steady trickle of pain and sorrow. What was the matter with her? After all this time of staying strong, telling herself she could cope come what may, she was suddenly falling apart.

‘Cry all you want, querida,’ the man who held her murmured in his compelling velvet-lined voice, his big hand cupping her head and stroking her hair as though tenderly giving consolation to a child. ‘Expressing our sorrows is sometimes necessary rather then holding them inside. You should not see giving in to grief as something undesirable, or feel that you have to put on a brave face when you are feeling sad. That would not be good for you or the little one!’

For disturbing moments Cristiano felt as if his feelings were under siege as he held Dominique’s slender quivering body close to his own. The scent of her honey-laced shampoo was inexplicably alluring as it drifted beneath his nose, and he had never touched hair of such fine silk as hers before. The sensation was incredible. He was aware too of the soft fullness of her breasts as they pressed intimately into his chest, and was shocked by the entirely inappropriate sensations that swept violently through his body as a result of that close contact.

It had been too long since he had held a woman in his arms, and no doubt that was why his body was reacting so strongly. All he had wanted to do was offer Dominique some comfort and reassurance, but now her body was awakening feelings in him that he’d thought long petrified. If the sensations were purely sexual he could handle them well enough—women had always been interested in Cristiano, and there had been no lack of opportunity for that kind of consolation since the tragedy that had stopped his world. But other, much more dangerous emotions were assailing him too, and Cristiano realised he would have to be on his guard against getting this close to the beguiling Dominique again. The risks were simply too terrifying to be contemplated …

CHAPTER FOUR

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!’