Modern Romance Collection: January Books 5 - 8. Jane Porter

her before.

      ‘I think that is a perfect idea,’ she whispered and reached up to kiss him once more. He should resist, keep himself distanced and prove they could live together without the added complications of passion, but he’d never been able to resist Lisa.

      He kissed her back as a fierce and insistent desire began to beat like a drum around him. She responded and the gentle kiss became deep, hard and explosive. Every nerve in his body called for hers, called for the satisfaction that only she could bring, the pleasure and pure torment of her touch, her caress and kisses—his possession of her.

      When she pulled back from him, her eyes were heavy with desire and, without another word, he took Lisa’s hand and led her away from the warmth of the log fire. Her hand held his tightly as they climbed the narrow staircase of the cottage and when they reached the top he was pleased to see his instructions had been followed to the very last detail.

      The door of the master bedroom was open and the soft glow of lamplight shone from within. The gift shopper he’d hired online to give Lisa her perfect Christmas had excelled herself; her touch was so personal, he briefly wondered if she was still here. Not that she should be. He’d paid her well, extremely well, for this special gift. It was a gift to disarm his wife, to allow her to see that they could be together and raise their child without the complication of love and unnecessary emotions.

      He knew well enough that when he opened up and loved someone, let them into his heart, it all went wrong. His father had left him and his mother had taken a choice that had led to her leaving him. Then, as his career as a footballer had taken off, plunging him into the spotlight of the sports world, a freak accident had taken all that away too. There was only one person who’d been steadfast in her affection for him and that was his sister, Angelina, although he didn’t deserve any from her, not when he never allowed her close, when he always wore the armour of dominating older brother.

      ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this—for me.’ The disbelief in Lisa’s voice was clear, as was the wonder of the whole setting. He’d been sceptical at first, when the gift shopper had suggested a romantic cottage decked out for Christmas instead of a grand country spa hotel, but now he knew he’d made the right choice. This was far more personal and, judging by the wistful look on her face, far more what Lisa would have chosen.

      He turned to her, pulling her into his arms as they stood on the landing, the soft light spilling from the bedroom. Her body softened against his, the resistance she’d been putting up over the last few days gone and in its place burning passion and desire. ‘You wanted Christmas and so I ordered it for you.’

      ‘Ordered it?’ She frowned up at him then smiled shyly and he knew he was finally cracking through her hardened barriers. The same as the ones he’d created when he’d walked out on her and their marriage so soon after saying I do.

      This romantic setting would definitely prove they should be together, that they could raise their child together. That despite their short-lived marriage and the fact that he’d openly admitted he could never allow himself to love anyone, they could make this work. For their child’s sake.

      ‘I wanted to prove to you we can be together, despite our time apart.’ He stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek, a sense of satisfaction rushing through him when she closed her eyes briefly, those lovely long lashes lying on her pale skin.

      When she opened her eyes and looked up at him the green of her eyes was so vivid, so bright he was dragged into her soul, into her heart. He knew then that her feelings for him hadn’t changed. She’d told him more than once she loved him until one day, unable to tolerate it any longer, he’d thrown it back at her before walking out on his new marriage. He’d done it to save her pain, to save her heartache, but instead he’d created more. Now was a time to be honest, to tell her he did want to be in his child’s life, in her life, but he knew that he couldn’t allow himself to love her, not in the way she wanted. He owed it to her, to his child, to be honest.

      ‘And that’s all?’ The hope in those whispered words tugged at his conscience like a gale-force wind rushing in off stormy seas, but he couldn’t yield to it, couldn’t let it affect him. Not when his childhood had taught him that those he loved always left him, making him lock his heart away. He didn’t deserve the happy ever after Lisa craved so much.

      ‘We had a good marriage, Lisa. We had passion—lots of it.’ He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers; the soft sigh of desire she made only heightened his own, his need for her. ‘I warned you I didn’t go in for love and romance. You knew that before we married.’

      ‘I just thought...’ she said softly, the words dying on her lips as her eyes met his.

      More than anything he wanted to kiss her again, to claim her as his once more, to show her that even while he couldn’t say words of love to her he desired her, wanted her in the most primal way a man could want a woman.

      He shook his head. ‘Don’t overthink things, Lisa. We married because we couldn’t get enough of one another and now we will remain married because of our child. A child created with desire and passion so strong that neither of us could deny it then—or now.’

      * * *

      Lisa’s heart thumped so hard in her chest that she was sure it was echoing around the cosy cottage he’d presented her as a Christmas gift. Did he know that he was playing to her childhood insecurities by doing that? Did he know that in this house was all she’d ever wanted? Even the handsome man to live happily ever after with?

      ‘So this is all because I am carrying your child?’ The words sprang from her before she had time to think, time to work out this bizarre situation. The passion in the air around them evaporated and she was glad of that. Just now, kissing him under the mistletoe had been a mistake, one that had very nearly made her forget everything.

      ‘In part, yes, but also to show I can be in your life—in our child’s life.’ He touched her face again, sparking up the intense heat of passion. She wouldn’t be able to resist him, she knew that without any doubt, and before she ended up exactly where she’d vowed never to be again—in his bed—she wanted to clear things between them.

      ‘Is that to show you or me?’ A spark of defiance raced through her.

      He frowned slightly, but the darkness of his eyes remained full of desire. ‘I deserve that.’

      The moment of honesty almost fooled her, but she had her own honest moment to deal with first. ‘I never knew about your brother, the headlines. I wouldn’t have added to it all on the same day if I had.’

      He sighed. ‘I just couldn’t think straight. So much was happening, so fast.’

      A wave of sympathy curled through her. He’d had more than most men to deal with in recent weeks and she knew better than most what the past could do, how it could haunt you, colour your views and follow you through your life.

      ‘I have always wanted children, one day, although I am only too aware you don’t feel the same. I could never subject a child to the kind of childhood either of us experienced, but the fact is that I am pregnant and you made me feel that it was all my fault. We both drank too much wine, Max, both allowed ourselves to forget all we’d agreed on about being professional.’

      ‘More than a little wine.’ He smiled and her relief must have shown on her face. ‘Do you forgive me?’

      He pressed his lips lightly on hers, testing her reaction.

      ‘Give me one good reason why I should,’ she teased, thankful the mood had lightened, the heady passion returning. All it took was one light kiss, one gentle touch, one desire-filled look and she was lost.

      ‘Because it’s Christmas Eve.’ He said the words between light kisses and she closed her eyes to the sensation of fire on her skin.

      ‘And?’ Her teasing became bolder.

      ‘And because I desire you more than any other woman.’ His eyes were darker than ever, the message of promised passion within them unmistakable.