Martinez's Pregnant Wife

‘You are coming home with me. You are my wife.’ The feral growl of his voice served only to spike her mutinous anger even higher.

‘Only when it suits you, it seems.’

‘Don’t challenge me now, Lisa. You have just told me you are expecting my child. And that changes everything. We are married and will remain married—living under the same roof.’

Like an angry lion he stood and almost snarled out his demands and instantly she became the defensive woman she’d grown up to be. The need to fight her corner, to stand up for herself and be heard, dominated all her thoughts and she lashed out verbally.

‘You might have watched your father walk away but I will not allow that to happen to my child, not when I know what it’s like to be despised by my own father and then stepfathers.’ She hadn’t meant to let the past creep out, but as he took a step toward her, towering over her, she stood steadfast, refusing to be dominated. Ever. Not by anyone, least of all the man she’d married.

‘I’m not the only one with a past to hide, or hide behind, am I, Lisa?’

‘No, you’re not,’ she raged against him and the past she’d been trying to escape all her life. She’d thought marrying Max had finally meant that she could put all that behind her, that she could finally settle and make a home, but how wrong she’d been. The situation she had been plunged into meant she had to face that head-on. ‘But I’m not the one still running.’

The barb, laced with recrimination, hit its mark. His eyes glittered with anger but she matched his with her own. Being brought up on the wrong side of town had made her always ready to leap to her defence with anger. She didn’t need him—or any man. She was more than able to look after herself and now she would do the same for her baby, just as her mother had had to do. But with one difference. She would not be inflicting a constant stream of father figures on her son or daughter. She’d rather do this alone than risk that.

‘You think coming here today, meeting a brother I never knew I had, is running away? You think saying we will remain married—living together for the sake of our child—is running away?’ He moved closer to her, his intoxicating presence making her head swim, increasing the nausea, but she remained, tall and strong.

‘It is not a physical presence that counts. It’s more than that and it’s something you have already proved you are unable to do when you walked out on our marriage. I’m not going anywhere with you.’

As the words flew like accusing bullets from her lips the nausea took over, weakening her body. The luxury of the hotel foyer blurred and the last thing she could focus on was the Christmas tree, resplendent in gold, its lights twinkling like a thousand stars. She couldn’t hold on any longer and slipped into the bliss of soft darkness and the sanctuary it offered.

* * *

‘Lisa.’ She heard Max say her name and smiled weakly. She’d always loved the way his accent lengthened her name, made it sound so exotic and sensual, but this time there was a hint of panic.

In the depths of darkness, she was aware of her body beginning to fall but before she reached the floor Max’s arms were around her, his strong and muscled chest now a cushion for her head. She leaned against him, finally finding the will to fight the blackness as she inhaled the scent of the man she loved. The only man she would ever love. A man, by his own admission, incapable of love.

That last thought lingered in her mind like the frost that had covered the ground this morning; its chill revived her mind, her body, bringing everything once more into stinging focus.

‘I’m okay.’ She pushed against him, but his arms held her tightly. Weariness and confusion muddled her mind.

‘Is she all right?’ Another male voice, one as strong and commanding as Max’s, forced her to open her eyes.

She looked into a handsome face, one so familiar to that of the man whose strong arms now carried her to the chair she’d been sitting in only a short time ago. His brother. Her mind processed the information slowly but she knew that there could never be any doubt about that fact.

‘This is my wife, Lisa.’ She looked up at Max as his arms slipped from her, allowing her to sit in the chair again, but he stayed, crouched low, at her side, lines of anger on his face, and she wished he could look as concerned for her as his brother did. ‘Pregnancy is not agreeing with her.’

Not agreeing with her. How very dared he? He was the one who found this pregnancy disagreeable.

‘You should take her home. Call the doctor.’ The dominating male voice of Max’s brother spoke again and she looked up at him, standing over them like a demon.