Rising Stars. Maisey Yates

he is the man you adore, the man you trust, the man you wanted to be Marisol’s father. The man you tried to marry two days ago.”

      “Only because I was pregnant—”

      “You were engaged years ago, Callie,” he snapped. “Before I even met you!”

      Her mouth fell open. “What?”

      Eduardo leaned his hand on the kitchen countertop. “Last Christmas Eve, when we made love,” he ground out, “I couldn’t sleep with you in my bed—”

      “So why didn’t you kick me out?”

      He ground his teeth. “I went for a walk. I decided to stop at your apartment to collect a few of your things. I was going to ask you to stay. I never expected to find a man living there with you.”

      “You—what?”

      His jaw was hard as he shook his head. “After our years together, I’d actually thought I could trust you. But just hours after you gave me your virginity, I met your live-in love. Your longtime fiancé.”

      She gaped at him.

      “What, no witty comeback?” he jibed.

      “Brandon wasn’t my fiancé. Not back then!”

      His eyes grew wild. “Stop it, damn you! Will you never stop lying? I met him!”

      “But we only got engaged a few weeks ago!”

      Eduardo folded his arms, his expression as hard as the wooden floors. “Then how do you explain it? Either you are lying, or he was. Which is it?”

      She licked her lips. “Brandon wouldn’t lie,” she said weakly. “Unless—” She covered her mouth with her hand.

      If we’re not married by thirty—Brandon had taken her hands in his own—let’s marry each other.

      Sure, she’d laughed. On the night of their senior prom, thirty had seemed a million miles away. Why not?

      She’d thought it was a joke. But could Brandon have taken it seriously? Could that be why, the day after Eduardo had gotten her an apartment, Brandon had suddenly shown up in New York with no job and a suitcase full of jeans? Because he’d heard in Callie’s voice that she was falling completely in love with her boss, and wanted to protect his territory?

      No. It couldn’t be. Brandon loved her as a friend. Just a friend!

      She glared at Eduardo. “Either you misunderstood him, or Brandon was trying to warn you off. To protect me from a sleazy boss.”

      “Sleazy?” he gasped.

      She folded her arms. “But there’s never been anything romantic between Brandon and me. Let me call him and prove it!”

      “He’s in love with you.” His eyes were like ice. “You’re either lying, or blind. But I won’t be played for a fool ever again. You will not communicate with McLinn in any way. Not by phone, by computer or via carrier pigeon. And not through your parents. Do you understand?”

      Callie couldn’t believe he was being so unreasonable. Tears rose to her eyes. “But I just left him there,” she whispered. “Standing in the street on our wedding day. He deserves an explanation!”

      “He saw you leave with me. That is all the explanation he needs. And if not …” He allowed himself a cold smile. “I just told him everything he needs to know.”

      A chill went down her spine. “What did you say to him?”

      Turning away, he scooped up quesadillas and rice on a plate and shoved it toward her on the countertop. “It’s simple. Contact him during our marriage, just once, and you are in breach of our agreement.”

      “Fine, I’ll be in breach! Keep your stupid alimony. I don’t care about your money!”

      “Do you care about custody?”

      She sucked in her breath. “What?”

      He lifted an eyebrow. “It seems you did not read our prenuptial agreement very carefully before you signed it.”

      She struggled to remember the words of the prenup, but the truth was she’d barely skimmed the first pages. “I was in labor! In pain, under duress! Whatever I may have signed, it will never stand up in court!”

      He gave her grim smile. “Shall we find out?”

      Callie couldn’t believe he could be so heartless. No, on second thought, she could. What she couldn’t believe was her own stupidity—in believing it was possible for Eduardo Cruz to be anything but heartless! Blinking back tears, she tried to keep her voice from trembling. “Just let me talk to him once. You can listen on the other line. I just need to tell him I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes. “When I think of what I did to him …”

      “Yes, I can only imagine how badly you feel,” Eduardo said sardonically. “Knowing you caused him pain by flinging yourself enthusiastically into bed with me and conceiving my child instead of his. A pity raising Marisol is now a responsibility more important than the romantic longings of your heart!”

      His sardonic tone tore at her soul like nails on a chalkboard. “Why do you even care?” she spat out. “Our marriage will be over in months. For that matter, why did you even marry me? Why make such a song and dance about giving our child a name and a father and a home, when we both know you’ll never last for long?”

      His hand tightened into a fist on the counter. “What are you talking about?”

      “I know you too well,” she said. “I know the life you love. Traveling around the world, beating your competitors, buying expensive toys you barely take time to enjoy, any more than the women whose names you can’t remember. Keeping score with your billions in the bank.” She lifted her chin. “Am I leaving anything out?”

      His dark eyes were cold. “My priorities have changed.”

      “For how long? A few days? A week? How long will you last before you abandon us?”

      “Abandon?” he ground out. “You mean, how long until I let you rush into another man’s arms?”

      She shook her head. “I’m sick of your stupid jealousy!”

      “And I’m sick of constantly being told it’s impossible for me to be a decent husband, oh, no, not like some unemployed farmer who hangs on your every word. Too bad for you he’s not Marisol’s father!”

      It was the last straw.

      “Yes, it is!” Callie cried, blinking back tears. Grabbing her plate of quesadillas and rice—which indeed looked very poorly cooked—she yanked violently through the cupboards until she found a fork, then stomped across the kitchen. Stopping at the swinging door, she turned and yelled, “Three months can’t come soon enough!”

      Then with a sob, she ran upstairs, where she could eat and cry in peace with the one person in this world who still loved her—her baby.

      CHAPTER FIVE

       Three months later

      IT HAD been a horrible three months of watching Eduardo be a perfect, loving, devoted father to their baby, who’d gone from tiny newborn to chubby baby who slept better through the night. Three months of being treated with distant courtesy as his wife. Three months of being tortured with memories, of silent hurt and anger and repressed longing by day—and haunted dreams at night. Three months.

      Over.

      Looking at herself in the bedroom mirror, Callie zipped up her silver dress, a slinky, strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline that emphasized her bustline. She put on the three-carat diamond stud earrings that matched the ten-carat diamond ring on her hand. Leaning forward, she applied mascara and red lipstick. Stepping back into crystal-studded high