Special Deliveries: Her Nine-Month Secret. Charlene Sands

months. He had been instantly attracted to her when she had rescued him after his car crash. He had certainly planned on getting her into bed. He had never played with the possibility that a little time out—a few days of harmless pretence, of letting go of the persona he was compelled to be on a daily basis and all the stresses that came with it—would end up lasting over a year.

      The thing to do would be to start thinking clearly and regaining some of that lost control. The obvious solution would be to walk away. He certainly had no intention of encouraging anyone to start thinking in terms of diamond rings, churches and flower girls, however good the sex as between them. No way.

      He especially would not be going down that route with a woman who was, frankly, as poor as a church mouse. She might be disingenuous charm itself as long as she believed him to be little more than another one of life’s hard workers who saved up to pay the mortgage and grab an annual holiday somewhere cheap and cheerful. But how different would she have been had she known the extent of his wealth? He had been conned once and he had vowed never to allow that situation to happen again.

      Step one in the preventative stakes was to ensure that any lifetime partner—and there certainly wouldn’t be one on the horizon in the foreseeable future—would be able to match his wealth. He would only ever marry a woman who didn’t have anything to gain in the financial stakes by marrying him.

      Holly George was just not suitable. She had raised an issue and the only way to deal with it would be to dispose of her. It sounded heartless, but in the end he would be doing her a favour. If the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow was marriage, then she wasn’t going to get the pot of gold from him, and it was kinder to let her go now. When it came to handling the reins of a relationship, any relationship, he was the one in control.

      Holly turned away and began walking towards the sitting room. Her heart was beating very fast. She just couldn’t believe that this conversation was taking place. She had been so secure in their relationship. Had love blinded her to the very real possibility that what he felt for her was nothing more than lust? She couldn’t credit that! Lust became eroded over time, lost its urgency… What they had had just got better and better, deeper and deeper, at least as far as she was concerned…

      Luiz watched her leave the kitchen and he wanted to throw things, or at the very least haul her back into his arms and make love to her until her questions had been put to rest. He had become accustomed to her smiling, upbeat, eternally optimistic nature. He was used to her glorious, uninhibited chatter. He luxuriated in the company of someone who didn’t feel as though she ought to be impressing him. Now, he felt like a monster responsible for draining all the sunshine and light out of her. He had to remind himself that there was nothing he could do to alter the situation and to offer her anything beyond his remit would be to make matters worse in the long run.

      ‘So what are you telling me?’ Holly was standing by the bay window, arms folded, every inch of her body radiating tension. ‘Are you telling me that what we have isn’t going anywhere? Is never going to go anywhere? Because if that’s the case then I don’t see any point to us carrying on. I don’t want to be in a relationship where we just drift along until one of us gets bored and decides to call it a day.’

      She could hardly breathe. Her chest felt tight. How could he just stand there, looking at her with an inscrutable expression, not saying anything? A treacherous little voice whispered that perhaps she should have left well alone and not said anything, but as soon as the thought flitted through her head Holly knew that she had had to say what was on her mind. She had been feeling strangely emotional over the past few weeks. Holding things in would only exacerbate those heightened emotions.

      ‘Why won’t you talk to me, Luiz?’ Her eyes brimmed and she chewed her lip in anguish.

      ‘Because you’re getting hysterical and you’re not saying anything I want to hear.’

      ‘I am not getting hysterical! I’m just asking you to tell me how you feel about a future for us.’

      ‘I don’t think in terms of future when it comes to my relationships.’

      ‘Because of Clarissa? Is that why?’ Holly knew that she was clinging to this as the get-out clause for him. She could deal with him having been hurt in the past and therefore reluctant to commit in the present. That was a situation they could address, one that could be changed. No one could surely allow a past hurt to rule their life for ever? What she found much more difficult to deal with was a blanket refusal to enter the discussion.

      Luiz looked at her with veiled eyes. ‘Let’s not drag history into this, Holly.’

      ‘But you don’t understand! I would never let you down! You’ve never told me what happened between the two of you. Maybe if you just opened up on the subject we could work our way through this.’

      ‘I’m not in the mood for psychobabble.’

      ‘So what are you in the mood for, Luiz?’

      ‘I wouldn’t say no to sliding between the sheets with you…’

      ‘Why does it always have to be about sex?’

      ‘Since when is it always about sex with us?’ It was all he wanted from the relationship and yet he was outraged that she should diminish what they enjoyed.

      ‘Well, then, if it’s not all about the sex with you, then what else is it about?’

      Luiz stared at her, speechlessly aware that she had managed to box him in. Since when did any woman think that she had the right to challenge his decisions, ask for clarifications or demand explanations for his behaviour? And yet, he had been with her for an extraordinarily long time. At least, extraordinarily long as far as he was concerned. Little by little, he realised that she had made inroads into his levels of tolerance. Somewhere along the line, they had stretched and expanded to accommodate her forthright honesty. That was what now gave her the freedom to stand there, glaring, waiting for him to answer her.

      Taking advantage of his temporary silence, Holly thought it a good idea to carry on making her point. There was a certain desperation blossoming inside her but she felt as though if she didn’t push as hard as she could beyond that stubborn, autocratic, all-knowing veneer, she would forever rue her hesitation.

      ‘I’m crazy about you. You know that. And if you haven’t said so to me in so many words, then… then, you must feel… If it’s not just about sex, you must feel…’

      In the face of his continuing grim silence, she could feel the confidence leaking out of her. In its place, desperation was giving way to the numbing realisation that perhaps he didn’t feel anything for her, or perhaps what he did feel for her just wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to form a basis for a healthy ongoing relationship where holidays were planned and children were discussed and growing old together was a possibility. If all those things had been on the cards, she thought with a sickening jolt, then wouldn’t he have suggested her going to Brazil to meet his family? She would have asked him to meet hers ages ago! Had they really been operating on two different planes? Had she been so blind that she hadn’t been able to see that what she really wanted was different from what was actually there and, in fact, was leagues apart from what he wanted?

      Luiz watched as she stammered her way into silence. ‘I enjoy your company, Holly, and I care about you.’

      ‘You care about me…’ Her voice was low and dull. She adored him to distraction and would cheerfully have walked on a bed of burning coals for him. He, on the other hand, cared about her. Caring wouldn’t go the distance when it came to the bed of burning coals and it wouldn’t go the distance when it came to planning for a future.

      ‘Don’t knock it.’ He read the disappointment on her face but there was no way that he was going to be drawn into offering any more on the subject of how he felt. He could have told her that she turned him on more than any woman ever had, that she had certainly held his attention longer than any woman ever had, but he had a feeling that those sentiments would not have met with an enthusiastic reception.

      ‘I’m