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She put a trembling hand to her forehead. What did she care? Tomorrow, she’d be packing for North Dakota. For home. She missed her family. Sami. Her mother. Brandon. Even her father. She’d missed so much. Harvest. Autumn. Apple dunking and hot mulled cider. Thanksgiving with her father carving the turkey and her mother’s prize-winning pumpkin pie. But she’d been resentful and angry. She’d wanted them to call and apologize. They had the number. But they hadn’t called, and neither had she.
But tomorrow, she’d go home. She’d noted the date in her planner and circled it with a black pen. This sham marriage would be over.
No doubt Eduardo, too, had been watching the calendar. He’d done a wonderful job as a father but he must be exhausted, hiding his love affairs, working only nine hours a day instead of his usual sixteen, eating dinner at home every night. Honestly, she’d never expected him to last this long.
Callie shivered as if she felt the cold December wind blowing through the canyons of the city.
He’d never tried to touch her during their marriage, not once. They’d only had that single night together, the night they’d conceived Marisol. One perfect night, the fulfillment of all her innocent dreams. One night. And so much she would never forget. The sudden hot hunger of his gaze across the hotel ballroom. The warmth of his sensual lips as they kissed in the back of a taxi heading south on Fifth at a breakneck pace. The woodsy, clean scent of his black hair as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom and how silky it had felt clutched in her fingers as he covered her naked body with his own. The low rasp of his breath as he cupped her breasts. His hard gasp as he pushed inside her. The sound of her own scream ringing in her ears as her world exploded like fireworks, like a million dreams coming true at once.
Tomorrow, she’d go home and try to find a regular job. She’d face her family. She’d forget Eduardo. She had to; otherwise the rest of her life would be bleak …
“Querida.”
She whirled around. Eduardo was standing in the open doorway of the master bedroom, wearing a well-cut black tuxedo. He looked so devastatingly handsome that her heart lifted to her throat.
His eyes were as black as his jacket. His dark, short, wavy hair set off his handsome, chiseled face to perfection. As he came into the bedroom, the muscles of his powerful body seemed barely constrained by the civilized, sophisticated tuxedo.
He slowly looked her up and down, and his eyes seemed to devour her in the floor-length silver dress. “You look ridiculously beautiful,” he said huskily. “Every man will envy me tonight.”
“Oh,” she said in shock, and blushed. She had no idea how to react. He’d never said such a thing to her before. On this, the last night of their marriage, she suddenly felt as awkward and self-conscious as if they were on a first date. “Thank you. Um. You, too.”
He smiled. “I brought you a gift.”
Pulling a black velvet box from his tuxedo pocket, he opened it in fro
nt of her. Her jaw dropped when she saw the priceless emerald and diamond necklace sparkling inside.
She looked up with a gasp. “That’s—that’s for me? Why?”
He gave a low laugh. “Do you really need to ask?”
She bit her lip. “Is it like—a going-away present?”
“No.” He shook his head then gave her a charming, crooked grin. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.” Setting down the box on the bed, he pulled the necklace from the black velvet setting. “May I?”
Nervously she held up her long brown hair and allowed him to place the necklace’s heavy weight around her neck and latch it in the back, shivering as she felt his strong, warm hands brush against her nape. It was the first time he’d touched her in months, and it caused a tremble to rise from deep inside her. Moving away, she glanced at herself in the mirror. She put her hand over the green jewels sparkling in the light from the black wrought-iron chandelier.
“It’s beautiful,” she said over the lump in her throat.
Their eyes met in the mirror. The smile left his face.
“Not half as beautiful as you,” he said in a low voice. “No other woman can compare.”
He was standing behind her, so close their bodies could almost touch. Sensual need suddenly poured through her, so intense and deep that it made her knees weak. She closed her eyes.
“Why are you being nice to me?” she choked out. “Why now? When it’s the end?”
Coming behind her, he put his hands on her bare shoulders. “Who says it’s the end?”
She felt the weight of his hands on her skin and breathed, “The prenuptial agreement.”
Eduardo turned her around, and she opened her eyes. She could feel the heat radiating from his body. Feel its answering, unwilling fire in her own.
Nervously she licked her lips. His gaze fell hungrily to her mouth. “You have to know what I want,” he said softly.
His freedom, she thought unhappily. While as for her … The time of their marriage had only taught her to crave him again. To yearn. To want.
“Of course I know,” she said, and tried to laugh. “It must have felt like the longest three months of your life.”
