Best Modern Romances Of The Year 2017. Maisey Yates

me. I’m an ambitious man but prior to meeting you I had built up enough wealth to satisfy me and anything more was icing on the cake. Somehow in a very short space of time you became both the icing and the cake. Even so, I was intolerably greedy and selfish. I didn’t want any other man to have an excuse to come near you.’

      ‘Intolerably?’ Tia queried his choice of words shakily.

      ‘A more honourable man would have wanted you to come home and have the freedom to explore the dating scene. My blood ran cold at that prospect. I’m possessive. I didn’t want to run the risk of losing you to someone else. I didn’t want anyone to have the chance to take you from me. I knew I would meet Andrew’s expectations and look after you and, whatever happens, I will continue to do so. When I give my word, I stand by it, and you are my wife and I will always stand by that.’

      And she recognised that stubborn strength and resolution in him and it cut her and made her bleed where it didn’t show, made her bleed for what she couldn’t have and what she would have given anything to possess. Had he loved her she would have forgiven him anything but he didn’t love her. He desired her. Yes, she understood that perfectly, for she had desired him with equal fervour when they had first met. But desire had steadily transformed into love where she was concerned, only it hadn’t happened that way for Max. She understood that he would do only right by her; that she could rely on him and that he had not married her only for the riches that that marriage would bring him.

      But, that didn’t change the reality that she was married to Max now because Andrew had wanted Max to be with her, giving her the protection that Andrew had known he would not be around for long to give. Their sexual chemistry had persuaded Max that such a marriage could work but without the pressure of her grandfather’s emotional blackmail would it have ever occurred to Max to marry her?

      Tia thought not. Furthermore, there was a huge unacknowledged elephant in the room—the baby Max had yet to mention in any shape or form. He had had three days to brood. Surely that was time enough for a man to deal with an unexpected and unwelcome development? And as Tia rested troubled eyes on Max, her heart was sinking because she knew they did not have a future together. He didn’t want their child. He would do what he had to do, say what he had to say but without the spur of love and genuine interest he would be a poor parent. Much as her own father had been, Tia decided wretchedly, bad memories pulling at her. She had spent a lifetime trying to please a man who could not be pleased. She had struggled endlessly to win his love and approval, writing him weekly letters to which he never responded and passing every exam that came her way. And her efforts had only been a thankless and heartbreaking learning experience and she would never impose that burden on her baby. Sometimes, she thought sadly, no father could be better than an uncaring, indifferent one.

      ‘Now isn’t the time for this,’ she breathed, rising with sudden decisiveness. ‘We have a house full of visitors.’

      And Max thought, so much for the much-vaunted tactic of telling the truth and baring your heart. It hadn’t got him anywhere. Tia’s face was shuttered, eyes on lockdown, her lush mouth closed. Madonna diavolo! He wasn’t going to lose her—no way was he prepared to let her go! Particularly not now when she was carrying his child. His child, he reminded himself doggedly, striving valiantly to accustom himself to that astonishing idea. Some time soon when her grief was not so fresh he would tell her the whole story of his childhood and then she would understand his apprehension, wouldn’t she?

      Right now he didn’t want to weigh her down with any more stress and worry. She looked fragile as a bird in her elegant black dress and he knew she was eating little more than a sparrow’s ration at mealtimes. The tension of anxiety settled into Max’s bones. So far he was dismayed by what pregnancy appeared to be doing to his wife. He knew that a pregnancy wasn’t an illness but Tia looked wan, thin and drained and her once buoyant spirits were at basement level.

      Tia quickly discovered that gossiping tongues had been busy in the drawing room because her mother wasted no time in tracking her down to draw her into a quiet corner and say angrily, ‘We’ll take Andrew’s will to court. It’s a disgrace. Your inheritance has been stolen by your husband. He’s a fortune hunter! No wonder he doesn’t want me around!’

      ‘I’m not taking anyone to court, Inez,’ Tia countered in a firm undertone.

      ‘Can’t you call me Mamae like my other children?’ the blonde woman asked plaintively.

      Tia breathed in deep. ‘I don’t want to be unkind but you were never my mother in the way you were a mother to them...and it’s too late now. We’re strangers. I needed a mother when I was a little girl. I’ve got used to not having one now.’

      ‘But it could be different...if I stayed here, if I lived with you,’ Inez argued vehemently, ‘then we could get to know each other.’

      ‘Lived with me? Why would you want to live with me when your home and your husband are in Brazil?’ Tia queried in genuine astonishment.

      ‘Francisco has replaced me with a younger woman,’ Inez admitted with a dismissive toss of her head and a shrug. ‘We’re currently going through a divorce and my children have elected to stay with their father and their future stepmother.’

      Tia had a scornful urge to ask her mother what it felt like to be abandoned and was immediately deeply ashamed of that spiteful prompting. ‘I’m sorry. It must be very hard for you right now.’

      ‘But if I could move in with you, everything would be much easier,’ Inez confessed. ‘I would have no financial worries and I could live in comfort.’

      And comprehension set in then with Tia. Her mother had only come to the funeral because she had decided that Tia might finally be useful to her, and of course she wanted Tia to take Max to court and fight Andrew’s will because the wealthier Tia was, the more useful she could be to her mother. Bitterness threatened to claim Tia. For an instant, she recalled the loneliness of convent life for a little girl who never got to go home to a family during the holidays like her classmates. Inez’s self-interest was not a surprise but what did surprise Tia was that her mother’s selfishness could still hurt and disappoint her.

      ‘That’s not possible,’ Tia responded deflatingly.

      ‘But this is your house now,’ Inez protested, making it clear that she had received that confidential information from someone present at the reading of the will. ‘You can have whoever you like to stay and who better than your mother?’

      ‘Her husband,’ another voice interposed and Tia glanced up in dismay to find Max towering over them, his lean, strong face formidable in its hard resolve. ‘Tia has me and right now she doesn’t need anyone else.’

      Inez’s mouth took on a venomous twist but before she could say anything more, Tia stepped away. ‘It was good to see you today, Inez,’ she said politely as she walked away.

      ‘I feel awful,’ she whispered to Max. ‘I don’t feel anything for her. Well, actually, that’s another lie. At one point I felt angry, bitter and nasty and I hate feeling like that.’

      Max shrugged a broad shoulder. ‘She made it that way when she walked out on you and never came back, bella mia. Don’t blame yourself for being human.’

      And instantly, Tia felt soothed, gazing up into lustrous dark golden eyes, her tummy flipping a somersault in sudden excitement as that sliding sensation thrummed between her legs and she ached down deep inside. Every response seemed heightened by the rawness of her turbulent emotions. For a heady split second she craved his mouth with every fibre of her being, hunger threatening to roar up inside her like a raging fire. She sucked in a shuddering breath to calm her fevered body, wondering where she would focus that passion when she no longer had Max. On her baby? On some other interest?

      Max swallowed with difficulty, his hand clenching into a fist and digging into his pocket. It was neither the time nor the place and her fine-boned face was etched with strain and fatigue. He didn’t want her to have to play hostess any longer; he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and lay her down to rest somewhere quiet and peaceful. Knowing she would do her duty,