Rising Stars. Maisey Yates

changed my mind.” He scowled at her. “From the day I held our baby, I knew that whatever I’d once planned, our marriage would be—must be—permanent. That is the best way to raise our child. The only way. I’d hoped you would come to realize that.”

      “But you said you’d divorce me,” she whispered. The will-o’-the-wisp Christmas lights seemed to be dancing away, disappearing along with her dreams of returning home to her family. “You promised. You said our marriage was just to make our child legitimate, to give her your name!”

      His eyes had turned utterly cold, his body taut beneath his tuxedo. “You should be pleased,” he said stiffly. “As my wife, you have everything you could possibly want. A fortune at your disposal, beautiful homes, servants, clothes and jewels.”

      “But what about …” Her throat closed and she looked away. “What about the people I love?”

      “You’ll love your children,” he ground out.

      Wide-eyed, she turned back to face him. “Children?” she stammered. “As in … more than one?”

      He narrowed his eyes. “It is lonely to be an only child. Marisol needs siblings. Sisters to play with. Brothers to protect her.”

      Callie stared at him, remembering what she’d heard about Eduardo’s poverty-stricken childhood in Spain, about his mother who’d run off with her lover, and his proud, humiliated father, who’d shot himself in the aftermath with an old World War II rifle. At ten years old, Eduardo had been shipped off to a great-aunt he’d never met in New York, and even she had died when he was eighteen. He had no one. He was alone.

      She couldn’t even imagine it. As much as the restrictive rules of her old-fashioned parents had chafed her, and as much as her little sister had irritated her on a regular basis, Callie couldn’t imagine being an only child—and an orphan to boot, whose parents had both chosen to abandon her. Sympathy choked her, but then she hardened her heart. “So just like that, you expect me to agree? You expect us to remain married, to have more children? To plan it all in such a cold-blooded fashion?”

      Glaring at her, he sat back in the car seat, folding his arms. “Marisol will be wanted. She will be safe and loved. She will have two parents and a home. There will be no divorce.”

      Horrified, Callie stared at him.

      Stay Eduardo’s wife?

      Forever?

      Her heart twisted in her chest. It was all like some strange dream. For a moment she was mesmerized by his certainty. Perhaps Eduardo was right. Perhaps it would be better for Marisol … better for everyone.

      But how could she stay married to him, loving him as she did? He still wanted to be married to her for one reason only: to give their child a good home. How could Callie spend the rest of her life giving him her love, when all he wanted was—at most—her body?

      Could she sacrifice her heart, and all hope of ever being loved? Could she spend the rest of her life feeling unloved and alone, in order to give her child the home she deserved?

      Swallowing, Callie lifted her chin. “My family would have to be part of Marisol’s life. And mine. I miss them. My parents and my sister and—” She cut herself off, but too late.

      A sneer rose to his lips. “And Brandon McLinn, of course. His light still glows so brightly in your heart.” He set his jaw, turning away. “You disappoint me.”

      Controlling herself with a deep breath, she didn’t rise to his bait. “It was unreasonable of you to block me from seeing him. The only reason I went along with your demand was because I knew that as soon as the three months was over I could—”

      “Yes.” His eyes were hard as he glared at her. “I know exactly what you were planning to do.”

      The limousine stopped and Sanchez opened the door. Miserably she followed Eduardo out of the car. Why did he always take things so wrong? Why did he persist in being jealous of Brandon?

      Eduardo didn’t even look at her as they walked through the lobby of their building. The hot passion of Central Park seemed to have evaporated like smoke. He pressed the button, and they stood without touching, waiting silently in front of the private elevator.

      Then he abruptly turned to face her, his hands clenched.

      “I’ve left you alone too long,” he ground out, his eyes dark. “I was trying to give you space to grieve the past and accept your new life. To embrace your future as my wife.” Furiously he seized her in his arms. “But I see I took the wrong path with you. I should have staked my claim long ago.”

      Callie stared up at him, her eyes wide with shock. “You can’t—”

      Tightening his grip on her, he brought his mouth down on hers in a hard, punishing kiss. Trembling, she tried to push him away, but he was too strong for her. Especially when his lips tasted like sweet fire …

      The door to the elevator opened with a ding, and Eduardo lifted her up into his arms. He looked down at her fiercely.

      “Tonight, wife,” he growled, “I’m taking back my bed.”

      The elevator door hadn’t even closed before he was pressing her against the mirrored wall, his mouth hard and hungry against hers. Callie had given up any thought of resisting. In fact, she’d given up any thought altogether. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss with equal hunger. He released her, letting her body slide down his, and she felt his hard desire for her. She felt hot, wearing his tuxedo jacket, and through the thin cotton of his shirt, she felt the strength and heat of his body as he held her tight and kissed her, so long and hard and deep that she prayed he’d never let her go.

      At the ding of the elevator, he picked her up and carried her wordlessly through their massive foyer, beneath the crystals of the shadowy chandelier above. His black eyes never left hers as he carried her up the curved, sweeping staircase. His gaze reached into her heart, taking brutal possession of her soul.

      “Och, you’re home early!” Downstairs, Mrs. McAuliffe came out into the foyer, her voice cheerful. “The baby’s sleeping and happy and—oh.”

      As if from a distance, Callie heard the woman’s shocked intake of breath, saw her turn and flee back down the shadowy hall toward her own rooms on the first floor. But for once in her life, Callie wasn’t embarrassed. She couldn’t care. All that mattered was this.

      Without a word, Eduardo carried her up the last stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. He set her down on her feet beside the king-size bed. She glanced down at the mattress, remembering how she’d slept alone for all the nights of their marriage. But she would not be alone tonight.

      Her husband caressed her hair, tucking tendrils behind her ear. She shivered as his rough fingertips brushed her sensitive earlobe, and his hand slowly moved down her cheek to her throat, beneath the expensive diamond-and-emerald necklace to the sensitive corner between her neck and shoulder. His body towered over hers as he pulled his oversize tuxedo jacket off her shoulders, dropping it to the floor.

      Walking around her slowly, he stroked the bare skin of her shoulders. Fire raced up and down her body as he finally faced her, cupping her face. He lowered his mouth to hers.

      His lips were soft and warm, rough and hard all at once, searing through her body like lava, melting her core from within. Her full breasts ached, crushed against his muscled chest. He reached around her, and she heard, and felt, the pull of the zipper. Suddenly the weight of the silver strapless gown fell to the hardwood floor.

      Stepping back, Eduardo looked at her in the moonlight. “You’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve waited for you so long. Too long …”

      Yanking off his black tie, he tossed it to the floor. But as he started to unbutton his tuxedo shirt, his hands seemed clumsy. She looked at his fingers and realized they were shaking, just as hers were. With a low curse, he finally just ripped off his shirt, popping the buttons with brute force and kicking