Rising Stars. Maisey Yates

thought of herself as plain and plump but the mirror now plainly told her otherwise. Her light brown hair was long and lustrous, blown-dry straight twice a week at the best salon on the Upper West Side. Her arms and legs had become toned and sleek from carrying Marisol and taking her on long autumn walks. She went to the park almost every day, rain or shine, eager to escape the penthouse, where she felt useless, trapped in the same house as a husband who did not care for her.

      But her transformation into his trophy wife was complete. She no longer looked the part of the farm girl, or even the secretary. She was Mrs. Eduardo Cruz. The oil tycoon’s unloved wife.

      But tomorrow morning, her three-month marriage sentence would be over. She and her baby would be free.

      Callie’s green eyes were pools of misery.

      Every night, she’d slept alone in his big bed as he slept in the guest room down the hall. Every day when Eduardo came home from work—earlier than he ever had, before dinner—his face lit up with joy as he scooped Marisol up in his arms. At night, when the baby couldn’t sleep, she heard him walking the halls, cuddling her against his chest, singing her to sleep in his low baritone. Callie had a million new memories that would always twist her heart, because after they divorced, she’d never see them again.

      Eduardo had been unfailingly courteous. He’d never brought up Brandon, her family, or any other subject that might cause an argument. Instead, every night as she sat beside him at the dinner table, he read the paper over dinner and kept the discussion to small talk. And her gaze unwillingly traced the sensual curve of his lips and shape of his hands, her body electrified with awareness as she breathed in his masculine scent and felt his warmth.

      He never touched her. All he expected of Callie was for her to take care of their child and occasionally accompany him to charitable events. As they were doing tonight.

      In the intimate world of New York society, the official Christmas season was kicked off in early December by the annual Winter Ball, which raised money for children’s charities across the five boroughs. Tonight was the last night Callie would wear an elegant gown and accompany Eduardo in his dashing tuxedo. The last night she’d have to look up at her husband and pretend her heart wasn’t breaking.

      Tonight was the end.

      Fitting that their marriage would end at a Christmas party, she thought dully. Just as it had begun with one. Tomorrow, as outlined by the prenuptial agreement, she would move out and Eduardo would begin divorce proceedings.

      Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, Callie exhaled. She didn’t believe for a single second that he’d been faithful to her. She knew him too well. He wasn’t the type of man who could go without physical release for a month, much less three. He must have had lovers since their marriage—but where? How? It tortured her.

      She put a trembling hand to her forehead. What did she care? Tomorrow, she’d be packing for North Dakota. For home. She missed her family. Sami. Her mother. Brandon. Even her father. She’d missed so much. Harvest. Autumn. Apple dunking and hot mulled cider. Thanksgiving with her father carving the turkey and her mother’s prize-winning pumpkin pie. But she’d been resentful and angry. She’d wanted them to call and apologize. They had the number. But they hadn’t called, and neither had she.

      But tomorrow, she’d go home. She’d noted the date in her planner and circled it with a black pen. This sham marriage would be over.

      No doubt Eduardo, too, had been watching the calendar. He’d done a wonderful job as a father but he must be exhausted, hiding his love affairs, working only nine hours a day instead of his usual sixteen, eating dinner at home every night. Honestly, she’d never expected him to last this long.

      Callie shivered as if she felt the cold December wind blowing through the canyons of the city.

      He’d never tried to touch her during their marriage, not once. They’d only had that single night together, the night they’d conceived Marisol. One perfect night, the fulfillment of all her innocent dreams. One night. And so much she would never forget. The sudden hot hunger of his gaze across the hotel ballroom. The warmth of his sensual lips as they kissed in the back of a taxi heading south on Fifth at a breakneck pace. The woodsy, clean scent of his black hair as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom and how silky it had felt clutched in her fingers as he covered her naked body with his own. The low rasp of his breath as he cupped her breasts. His hard gasp as he pushed inside her. The sound of her own scream ringing in her ears as her world exploded like fireworks, like a million dreams coming true at once.

      Tomorrow, she’d go home and try to find a regular job. She’d face her family. She’d forget Eduardo. She had to; otherwise the rest of her life would be bleak …

      “Querida.”

      She whirled around. Eduardo was standing in the open doorway of the master bedroom, wearing a well-cut black tuxedo. He looked so devastatingly handsome that her heart lifted to her throat.

      His eyes were as black as his jacket. His dark, short, wavy hair set off his handsome, chiseled face to perfection. As he came into the bedroom, the muscles of his powerful body seemed barely constrained by the civilized, sophisticated tuxedo.

      He slowly looked her up and down, and his eyes seemed to devour her in the floor-length silver dress. “You look ridiculously beautiful,” he said huskily. “Every man will envy me tonight.”

      “Oh,” she said in shock, and blushed. She had no idea how to react. He’d never said such a thing to her before. On this, the last night of their marriage, she suddenly felt as awkward and self-conscious as if they were on a first date. “Thank you. Um. You, too.”

      He smiled. “I brought you a gift.”

      Pulling a black velvet box from his tuxedo pocket, he opened it in front of her. Her jaw dropped when she saw the priceless emerald and diamond necklace sparkling inside.

      She looked up with a gasp. “That’s—that’s for me? Why?”

      He gave a low laugh. “Do you really need to ask?”

      She bit her lip. “Is it like—a going-away present?”

      “No.” He shook his head then gave her a charming, crooked grin. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.” Setting down the box on the bed, he pulled the necklace from the black velvet setting. “May I?”

      Nervously she held up her long brown hair and allowed him to place the necklace’s heavy weight around her neck and latch it in the back, shivering as she felt his strong, warm hands brush against her nape. It was the first time he’d touched her in months, and it caused a tremble to rise from deep inside her. Moving away, she glanced at herself in the mirror. She put her hand over the green jewels sparkling in the light from the black wrought-iron chandelier.

      “It’s beautiful,” she said over the lump in her throat.

      Their eyes met in the mirror. The smile left his face.

      “Not half as beautiful as you,” he said in a low voice. “No other woman can compare.”

      He was standing behind her, so close their bodies could almost touch. Sensual need suddenly poured through her, so intense and deep that it made her knees weak. She closed her eyes.

      “Why are you being nice to me?” she choked out. “Why now? When it’s the end?”

      Coming behind her, he put his hands on her bare shoulders. “Who says it’s the end?”

      She felt the weight of his hands on her skin and breathed, “The prenuptial agreement.”

      Eduardo turned her around, and she opened her eyes. She could feel the heat radiating from his body. Feel its answering, unwilling fire in her own.

      Nervously she licked her lips. His gaze fell hungrily to her mouth. “You have to know what I want,” he said softly.

      His freedom, she thought unhappily. While as for her … The time of their marriage had only taught her to crave