Martinez's Pregnant Wife. Rachael Thomas

it great. It was his way of proving he could succeed, could still be something in the world of football despite the car accident that had cut short his career.

      Lisa fought against the flurry of nerves that added to the nausea she’d been trying to shake off since she’d finally had the courage to see her doctor. There was no getting away from it now, no way she could deny it and no way to avoid telling Max. To do that would be to go against everything she believed in. She had to tell him that their night together two months ago had lasting consequences and before anyone else they worked with guessed. He might be her boss at the football club where she was a physio but he was still her husband, despite the divorce papers she knew the court had sent him. Max had to hear this from her.

      She took a deep breath and then blew it out in an attempt to regain her composure, Max’s closed office door suddenly seeming more like the highest mountain on earth. She knocked and opened the door, stepping warily inside the masculine space. The room was empty. As she stood on the threshold, her hand still holding the door open, footsteps sounded in the corridor and she turned, knowing it wasn’t Max. Relief and annoyance rushed through her. She wanted to get this over and done with. Only then could she move on and leave this part of her life behind.

      ‘He’s not there,’ Max’s PA informed her as she slipped past her and put some files on the desk. ‘Probably gone for his usual coffee fix. Although he wasn’t in a good mood.’

      ‘He wasn’t?’ Lisa’s confidence began to erode like a cliff face pounded by an angry sea.

      ‘No. Far from it,’ his PA said as she ordered the files on his desk. ‘Very distracted.’

      ‘Thanks.’

      Before she became further embroiled in conversation, Lisa turned and made her way out of the modern building that served as the headquarters for Max’s various business ventures. It was also the head offices of the latest struggling football club whose fortunes he was intent on turning around. The cold December air snatched her breath away as she walked toward the very place she and Max had drunk far too much wine two months ago during an evening that had been meant to be for discussing business.

      That night should have been about her as the club’s physio and him as the club’s owner. Nothing more. Instead it had turned into being about each other, their marriage and the events that had led up to him walking out on her. Worse than that, it had soon become about the passion that still sparked between them, the consequences of which now linked them more closely and permanently than any marriage certificate ever could.

      She stopped walking. She couldn’t do this. How could she tell the man who regretted marrying her that he was going to be a father? Maybe she should wait until after Christmas? It was tempting, but the thought of whispered gossip reaching him before she did pushed her back on course and she walked on, her boots sounding hard and loud on the pavement, tapping out a rhythm of determination she was far from feeling.

      What was the worst he could do? Tell her he didn’t want anything to do with his child? That response was exactly what she expected and it certainly couldn’t be worse than his admission that he didn’t love her. The pain couldn’t be any harder to bear than that of losing the man she’d fallen in love with.

      Two months ago, after doing her utmost to keep out of his way at work, at least until she’d found a new position, she’d allowed her heart to rule her head and had given into Max’s lethal charm. It had been the most foolhardy thing she’d done and now, with their baby growing inside her, she couldn’t afford to make the mistake again of fooling herself that he cared. Her head had to be well and truly in charge, keeping her heart locked away. This was not a time for sentimental dreams of love and happy ever afters. Such a thing would never be possible with Maximiliano Martinez. She knew that now.

      She pushed open the door of the bar Max always favoured, the blast of warm air from the overhead heaters notching up the nausea as she walked in. The place was decked out for Christmas but at this hour of the morning it was practically deserted. She glanced into the dimness of the room and saw Max straight away, sitting with his back to her, staring ahead of him, seemingly oblivious to anything else.

      His PA was right. He wasn’t in a good mood.

      Her heart flipped over and tugged at the emotions she was desperate to keep under control. So much for being strong, for locking away her feelings. They were pouring from her like a torrent of rain, all jumbled up and veering from one extreme to another. She couldn’t decide if she was angry or nervous or even if she was doing the right thing as she stood looking at the man she knew she couldn’t remain married to, the man whose child she now carried.

      The tension in Max’s broad shoulders was all too obvious as he sat, elbows on the table and hands clasped tightly and pressed against his chin. She walked slowly forward, coming round to his side, but still he didn’t see her, didn’t hear her. He was lost in thought.

      Why was he so unreachable? She’d known he kept his emotions well-hidden even as she’d said I do, but had thought she could change that—change him. She’d thought she had love enough for them both and, after the hard upbringing she’d had, it was just another gamble in life she was prepared to take. But she couldn’t gamble any longer, not now there was a baby on the way.

      Now she had to be mercenary. She didn’t want her child growing up as she had, feeling unloved, unwanted. She’d dreaded the days her father had turned up, demanding to see his little girl, not out of any kind of love, or even duty, but out of spite. She’d been the weapon he’d used to get at her mother and that would not be happening to her baby.

      Planned or not, she wanted this baby, wanted to provide a happy and loving home, one free of any worries for her child, and after her childhood she knew that could only be achieved either entirely on her own or with the full support of a man who loved her and wanted the same. Max did not. He hadn’t even been able to commit to marriage so how could he possibly be there for his child? That left only one option. To get the divorce papers signed and end that chapter of her life so that she could raise her child alone. First she had to tell him. He had a right to know even if he never wanted to see his child.

      ‘Max.’ She put aside her past together with her future worries and focused on the present. She said his name softly as she moved toward him, but he remained still, lost in thought. She tried again, firmer this time. ‘Max.’

      He turned and looked at her, his handsome features she knew and loved marred by an expression that struck dread into her heart. Had he already heard? Was it possible someone had already given away her secret?

      ‘What are you doing here, Lisa? Come to make sure I sign the divorce papers? Maybe you have found someone new and want to move on?’ His accent was more pronounced than she’d heard for a long time and anger glittered in his eyes. The heavier than usual shadow of stubble on a man who demanded nothing but perfection notched up her nerves. Something was seriously wrong. He must know. Was he now toying with her? Seeing how long she’d hold out on him?

      Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She would tell him before he could challenge her.

      ‘I have something to tell you.’ There was a waiver of uncertainty in her voice and, judging by the slight narrowing of his inky black eyes, he’d detected it.

      ‘Nothing I don’t already know. You are a bit late to the party, Lisa.’ The venom in his words sent her heart into freefall as panic raced around her. How could he be so callous about the baby? His baby. Even if he’d found out from the malicious whisperings of the club’s gossips, it was still his baby.

      She lifted her chin and glared angrily at him. He wasn’t going to reduce her to a nervous wreck. She had to be strong, had to say what she needed to and then go—leave him to his foul mood. ‘I wasn’t aware such news required a party.’

      He stood up, his height suddenly dominating the air she wanted to gulp down in order to remain calm. As always he wore a dark suit, tailored and very expensive, which fitted him to perfection and she couldn’t help but allow her eyes to travel down his long legs. The part of her that loved this man fought for supremacy, not wanting to freeze him