Forgotten Husband (8 page)

When he lifted his head it was all she could do to meet the dark intentness of his gaze, and she felt her lips tremble as he gently rubbed his thumb back and forth across the kiss-swollen curves.

One hand traced a path down her neck to trail the edge of her silk robe, parting it to slip inside and caress the full curve of her breast. 'What did the obstetrician have to say?'

How did she answer that? With extreme care, a tiny voice warned. 'He reassured me that the baby is fine.'

Her breasts felt heavy, their peaks taut and aching. It wasn't the only part of her that ached.
Dammit,
how could her body react in such a traitorous fashion?

His eyes seared hers, dark and analytical, almost as if he knew precisely what had happened and was waiting for her to tell him.

Could the obstetrician have called him? The possibility wouldn't surprise her. 'I—suffered a bout of morning sickness.' She paused, then made a light attempt at humour. 'In the middle of the afternoon.' She was not such a good actress that Alejandro would be fooled for long. 'I had another memory flash.' It was an extension of the truth. 'It shook me up a little.'

'Poor niña
,'
Alejandro soothed, brushing his lips against her temple. 'If you don't feel up to dinner tonight, I will contact Andre and have him meet me at a restaurant.'

'No,' Elise said quickly, adding, 'Ana has gone to a lot of trouble.' She didn't want-to wake in the depths of night when he slid into bed and reached for her.

She wanted a confrontation. Dammit, she wanted to launch a full-scale war against him. But not when they had a guest due to arrive for dinner in—how long? Less than an hour?

'Shouldn't we get ready?'

Alejandro drew back and gave her a rueful smile. 'I need to shower and shave.'

The dress she had bought was a slim-fitting sheath in a brilliant red uncrushable viscose and linen mix, its hemline resting just above the knee. A clever panel of red beaded embroidery elevated the simple design to the glamorous, and matching beaded shoes completed an ensemble that shrieked a top Australian label.

Alejandro entered the bedroom as she put the finishing touches to her make-up, and with practised ease he attended to the hook on her bra, then assisted her into the dress. The long zip-fastener slid home, and she slowly turned to face him.

'Stunning,' he pronounced, his eyes gleaming with indolent appreciation as they roved over her slim curves. 'Do you need help with your hair?'

'I thought I'd wear it loose.'

She crossed to the dressing-table and caught up her brush, stroking the length of her hair until it shone. Ear-rings were too difficult to attach with one hand, so she discarded the idea.

Andre Valery was a tall, handsome man in his late thirties, charming, with Gallic appreciation for the opposite sex.

'I have been looking forward to meeting the woman who managed to slip beneath Alejandro's armour.' He lifted his glass in salute. 'I congratulate you.'

Dinner was a success, for not only had Ana excelled herself with superb culinary offerings, but the delicate baiting each man indulged in bore the stamp of a long friendship.

'You realise our fathers were business associates?
Oui.
It is true. For some years we spent holidays together. Gstaad. St Moritz. One year Alejandro was packed off to join my family in Paris.' His eyes twinkled with wicked humour. 'We were young, gregarious, and, I think, a little too adventurous for our own good.'

'Don't indulge in tales, Andre,' Alejandro drawled, 'or I may feel compelled to relay a few of my own to Anne-Marie when next I see her.'

'Anne-Marie,' Andre returned, with a Gallic shrug, 'is in no doubt as to what manner of man I am.'

'Are you about to destroy my illusions?' Elise queried lightly, and incurred his slight smile. His eyes, however, assumed inscrutability.

'What illusions do you refer to,
cherie?'

'That you might be an exception to most successful men and have chosen not to have both wife and mistress?’

Andre's gaze didn't waver, and she met it fearlessly, aware of the sudden stillness in the room. 'If a man values his family, and his wife meets his needs,' he offered quite gently, 'why would there be the necessity for him to take a mistress?'

She was stepping into dangerous territory, but she didn't care. 'The challenge it represents, perhaps? Excitement?' She managed a careless shrug. 'Would you consider it fair for a wife to expect her needs also to be met?'

Alejandro's voice was pure silk. 'You are lodging a subtle complaint,
querida?

It took all her acting ability, but she managed a light incredulous laugh. 'How could I begin to fault you?' She reached out a placating hand, and sat quite still as he took hold of it and raised her fingers to his lips.

It was a deliberate gesture, and she glimpsed the dark gleam in his eyes, a watchfulness that sent warning flares licking the taut edge of her nerves.

He knew. Perhaps not precisely
when
her memory had returned, but there was no doubt he was aware that she had experienced a total recall.

'Shall we adjourn to the lounge for coffee?' Alejandro suggested smoothly.

Somehow Elise managed to get through the rest of the evening. If Andre sensed that her conversation was a little too bright, he gave no indication.

'You must excuse me,' Andre said at last. 'It is late, and I must return to my hotel.' He crossed to her side. 'Thank you for a most enjoyable evening.' He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, then held it a fraction longer than was necessary. 'Alejandro must bring you to Paris,' he said gently. 'It would give Anne-Marie much pleasure.
^’

'Indeed,' Alejandro concurred as they moved through to the front of the house.

Elise turned away from the door the instant the car's tail-lights cleared the gates, acutely conscious of Alejandro's actions as he re-set the alarm system.

Apprehension prickled at the back of her neck as she made for the stairs. The anger that had lain dormant since this afternoon rose to the fore, darkening her eyes and reining her mouth into a firm line.

Entering the bedroom, she slipped off her shoes, then reached for the zip-fastening at the back of her dress.

Alejandro came into the room as she began a third fruitless attempt to slide the fastener down, and she didn't utter a word as he crossed to complete the task.

With extreme care she stepped out of the dress and placed it over a nearby chair, watching out of the corner of her eye as he discarded his jacket and removed his tie.

'When did it happen?'

His voice was quiet, deadly, and she turned slowly to face him, unwilling to prevaricate.

Eyes as dark as onyx were filled with a chilling intensity, and her chin tilted fractionally as she prepared to oppose him.

"This afternoon. In the obstetrician's waiting-room.' Her eyes sparked with green fire. 'A photograph of Savannah in a magazine acted as the trigger, giving me total recollection in slow motion.'

His expression darkened fractionally, and he leached out a hand, catching hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger, tightening his grasp when she attempted to wrench it away.

Elise's eyes flared a brilliant topaz-flecked emerald in unspoken challenge.
'Why?'
she demanded. 'Why did you deceive me?'

He held her effortlessly, his expression an inscrutable mask. His silence angered her immeasurably.

'Dammit,
answer
me!'

His eyes became bleak, and his voice sounded as dark as the depths of his black soul.
'When
would you have had me reveal facts?'

She suffered his raking scrutiny with angry defiance as she waited for him to continue.

'While you lay in a hospital bed injured and afraid?' he pursued relentlessly. 'When you first came home?' His eyes dared her to refute him. 'Should I have destroyed your trust? Refused you reassurance and affection?'

'You took advantage with a calculated play on my emotions,' she cried, raw with pain.

'We made love,' Alejandro corrected harshly.

'We had set.'

'A carnal coupling?' His voice was lethal. 'Based on greed and the gratification of a primitive urge?'

Dear God, it hadn't been like that. Ever. No matter how hard she fought, she had been entrapped from the moment of confrontation in his office. One look, and she'd been shaken to the very roots of her being by the mesmeric quality of his masculinity. Aware, with the depth of self-knowledge, that Alejandro Santanas possessed the ability to render her helpless as no other man could. She had hated him for it, hated herself for her own vulnerability. But, most of all, she had hated the circumstances that bound her to him.

She wanted to cry out a rejection, but the words choked in her throat. 'The night of the accident,' she revealed bleakly, 'I'd decided to leave you.'

His eyes speared her. 'How long did you imagine it would take before I tracked you down?'

'I intended to see a lawyer and file for separation.'

His features hardened measurably. 'You hate me so much that you would attempt to deny me knowledge of your pregnancy, my child's ' existence?' His voice lowered to a dangerous silkiness that sent tiny shivers along her spine. 'Or did you plan an abortion?'

‘No,'
she jerked out in shocked denial, reasserting in a hushed tone, 'No.' The thought had never entered her head.

He was silent for several interminable minutes, and when he spoke his voice was hard and held unaccountable bleakness. "The child you carry is as much mine as yours. Uniquely
ours.
Our son or daughter deserves to be more than someone we fight custody for in a law court.
^’

'I married you because I couldn't stand by and see my father emotionally and financially beaten. It would have killed him.' She had to take some consolation from the knowledge that the last few months of his life had been happy. 'You engineered a diabolical game,' she accused nun fiercely. 'I should have damned you to the depths of hell and walked away.'

He regarded her steadily for what seemed an age. 'Yet you didn't,' he reminded her, his gaze alert beneath partly lowered lids. 'You accepted the arrangement as a challenge, and attempted to score against me.’

That had been her intention. At first, she had fooled herself that she was succeeding. Except that somewhere along the way she had fallen in love with him.

'Displaying beautiful manners in public,' he went on in musing reflection, 'while behaving like a virago when we were alone.'

Her eyes were dark and accusing. 'A fact you deliberately withheld from me.'

'If you remember,' Alejandro pursued, 'I made no pretence that we shared an idyllic relationship.'

'You said we argued occasionally!' Elise flung, hating his skilful employment of words.

'Frequently,' he corrected. 'The resolving of such arguments was always---' he paused deliberately '—satisfactory, wouldn't you say?'

That was an understatement. In bed, they had always been in perfect accord. In the beginning it had been a source of anguish, for she found it difficult to condone the degree of her emotional involvement with a man she professed to hate.

'Our marriage breaks all the rules,' she offered wretchedly, her eyes stormy with anger, and her hand shook as she lifted it to push hair back from her face.

'The reason for its existence remains the same,' he said in a hard voice.

She looked at him carefully, aware of his immense strength of will, the arresting elemental quality that made her feel suddenly afraid. 'You can't mean for the marriage to continue?'

'Indeed,' Alejandro declared inflexibly. He subjected her to a long, level appraisal. 'What is more, I insist that you honour the two-year term listed in our pre-nuptial agreement.'

Anger emanated from every pore in her body. That's barbaric!'

'Perhaps.' His smile was a mere facsimile, his eyes dark and forbidding.

'You expect me to act a part?' She felt like screaming with indignant resentment.
'Pretend?'