Page 30 of Claiming His Wife

Cassie closed her eyes briefly, her head going back as if to force the threatening tears back right where they came from. She'd expected initial difficulties, but they were turning out to be more painful than she could ever have imagined.

'And not quite everything,' he corrected, loosing his grip on the case, letting it drop to the floor. 'The house in Jerez will stay in the family, for the benefit of the older generation.' He lifted his shoulders in an uncaring shrug. 'After the place has served its pur­pose, who knows? It will probably go the same way as the estate and this house.'

'You can't do it!' Her throat tightened up again, the words emerging thickly. He would spend the rest of his life regretting it; his heritage was the most important thing in his life.

He crossed his arms across his chest, his long legs straddled, his aristocratic nostrils narrowed. 'No one tells me what I can and cannot do.'

His arrogance pricked her on the raw, despite her compassion. Knowing what his proud heritage meant to him, she knew that something deeply traumatic had forced him to this decision. 'A law unto your­self?' she snapped sardonically. 'What was it you used to say? That you were merely the custodian of your inheritance, honour-bound to hand it on to the next generation in a better state than when it came to you. Or have you conveniently forgotten that?'

She saw a muscle jerk at the side of his mouth, another clench along his hard jawline. 'As there is to be no future generation, I see no point in tying my­self to places that hold nothing but bad memories of a woman I don't know any more.. I thought I did know you. For a few perfect weeks you had me fooled.'

Her heart lifted. The feeling was so strong it was almost a pain. He had followed her to England to ask her to go back to him, of course he had, and she hadn't lost sight of that. Was it possible that he was feeling as bereft as she was? How could she prove that she loved him, that there had never been anyone else for her?

'Roman—' She wanted to go to him, to hold him, to take the pain away. But even though the hope in her heart was a great and desperate thing, she knew it was too soon. She had to convince him that what he'd seen and heard back at Guy's flat wasn't what it must have seemed.

'Roman.' She repeated his name softly. 'There is a point. You do have an heir.' Unconsciously, her hand rested against her still-flat tummy, then dropped shakily back to her side as she registered the im­mediate and contemptuous curl of his mouth.

'You try to pass your lover's child off as mine? You insult me, senora'

‘The baby is not Guy's!'

'Nor mine. You were protected by the contracep­tive pill when we were—were together. Or have you, too, very conveniently forgotten you told me that? Do you take me for a fool?' His fists were clenched at his sides, a white line of temper around his mouth. 'I saw you together with my own eyes. Barely dressed. I heard what he said. You were living with him. Well, senora, you may go right back to him, with my blessing!'

Shakily, she passed a hand over her burning fore­head. This was her worst nightmare. But, unlike a nightmare, she knew she wouldn't wake and leave the horrors behind.

They would stay with her until the end of her days.

Weariness swamped her. It had been a long, long day. The flight out to Jerez, the seemingly endless drive, hither and thither. And nothing accomplished. Zilch. Zero. He would never believe she loved him; more than anything in the world she loved him...

Even if she told him?

She filled her lungs with much needed oxygen. She had to make him believe her. She had to! 'Roman—I always loved you. I've never made love with any other man, despite what you thought. I was able to express my love for you physically because I'd finally grown up, begun to rate myself as a human being—a woman. And I believe—' she dragged in a shaky breath '—that you had finally learned to love me, too.'

She couldn't look at him, couldn't bear to see the cynical disbelief in his eyes which would mean she'd failed. She began to pace the floor, nervous energy overcoming her tiredness, making her restless.

'I'd hoped you'd tell me you wanted me to stay beyond the three months you'd stipulated. Hoped you wanted to make our marriage work as much as I did. But you said I was free to go. I took it that I was no longer any use to you because you'd just heard that Delfina had got herself engaged. What else was I to think?

'Thanks to you, my old flat above Cindy's shop was no longer available. I had nowhere to stay. Guy offered to put me up until I got back on my feet. Against my better judgement, I accepted. I don't know why he said the things he did. Only that—'

'He's in love with you,' Roman injected blankly. 'Unfortunately.'

Silence. She had her back to him; he wasn't re­sponding to her declarations of love. She had opened her heart and he could say nothing in return. Because he thought she was lying?

There was nothing left for her to say except, 'Later, a paternity test can be arranged. It will prove beyond any doubt that you are the father of my child.'

Tears clogged her throat. That it should come down to this. A clinical procedure when, in a perfect world, all it needed was love. And trust.

But this wasn't a perfect world. And very few peo­ple in it were free of imperfections.

And still the silence was deafening. He had de­cided that what he had felt for her wasn't worth the hassle. He could do without her.

But could he do without his child?

The thought of the tiny, precious life within her tore her apart. She pressed her fingertips to her throb­bing temples and reached the hardest, most painful decision of her life.

'When you're satisfied that the baby is yours, then I will hand him or her over to you. To your safe­keeping. Hang on to your heritage for the sake of your heir. I'll—' her voice faltered, the words chok­ing her. But she knew it had to be this way, there wasn't any other.

It would kill her to give up her baby—all the joy in the world would end for her on that dreadful day— but she loved Roman far too much to allow him to be deprived of the child he had always wanted to carry on his name.

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