Martinez's Pregnant Wife

‘She is on her way.’ His words were short and he didn’t miss Raul’s brows flicking upward in question.

‘On her way?’ The accusation in Lydia’s voice was as clear as a mountain stream in the spring. ‘From where?’

He sighed, not wanting this inquisition right now. ‘She had other plans today and insisted she’d make her own way here this evening.’

When Lisa had finally answered her phone yesterday afternoon she’d been adamant that he was not going to fetch her. The fire of independence in her had raged so strong he hadn’t been able to talk her round, but he had sent a car for her, along with the diamonds he’d given her at Christmas as a reminder of their deal. That had been several hours ago, so where the hell was she?

With a sinking sensation deep inside him he realised she wasn’t coming. His phone vibrated in his inside pocket and he pulled it out, but the text was from the driver of the car he’d sent for Lisa, informing him that Mrs Martinez had not required it.

‘Problems?’ Raul asked, his dark eyes watchful and irritatingly knowing.

‘Lisa is behind schedule, so I suggest we go on into the party.’ He put on his most charming smile and used it to its full advantage on Lydia. It didn’t quite have the effect he was hoping for, but when Raul took her arm, urging her to do as Max suggested, the attention was finally off him.

He lingered behind the happy couple as they made their entrance into the magnificent room. He stayed at the top of the wide flight of steps as they descended into the party. He couldn’t go down yet, couldn’t mingle with such joyous happiness when his heart beat so savagely in his chest.

Not only had Lisa left him, she’d stood him up too.

He absently scanned the room, looking but not seeing the array of colours of the ladies’ dresses and the uniform black of tuxedos. The light and melodious sound of a grand piano competed with the cacophony of laughter and voices. He didn’t belong here. Not tonight.

‘You look like you could do with this.’ Raul’s voice startled him and he turned to see his brother beside him, a glass of whisky in his hand.

Without a word he took it, swirled the amber liquid round the glass and then looked at Raul. ‘Where’s Lydia?’

‘With friends. Now are you going to tell me what is really going on?’

His first instinct was to tell him nothing was going on, but he didn’t want to. There was a connection between him and Raul, a bond made so quickly that he owed it to him, his brother, to be honest. To admit his failings.

He drank the whisky back in one quick gulp and looked at Raul. ‘We are getting divorced.’

Raul swore harshly in Spanish, causing guests who were just arriving at the party to turn and look at him as they made their way down the stairs and into the centre of the merriment and celebration.

‘She asked for a divorce?’ The disbelief in Raul’s usually firm tone was all too apparent.

‘She did, before she knew about the baby.’

‘And you want a divorce?’ The disbelief in Raul’s voice was clear.

‘I do now.’

Raul swore again. ‘We can’t talk here,’ he said, looking around him. ‘Let’s get another drink.’

He turned and made his way down the stairs and Max knew he had to follow. Not out of any sense of duty or obligation, but because he wanted to. Hell, he had to share this with someone. He needed someone to reassure him he was doing the right thing, because it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

Raul led him through the snooker room and into a bar more reminiscent of a men’s club and gestured toward two large leather chairs by the window. Max sat and within seconds two glasses of whisky were on the table between them. Outside the window, Max could see the street and the cars and cabs moving away from the hotel entrance after dropping off their passengers.

Lisa wasn’t going to be one of them. His stupidity had made damn sure of that.

‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Raul looked at him sternly as he launched his tirade, one he deserved every bit of. He’d avoided love, telling Lisa what she wanted to hear, because he thought he could save her from hurt, but he’d only her hurt her even more and now she’d left him. Just as everyone else he’d ever loved had. Hell, even Angelina couldn’t bear to be with him for long.

‘It’s for the best.’ He clenched his jaw as his brother looked at him reprovingly.

‘The hell it is.’ Raul all but growled at him, then launched into a torrent of Spanish. ‘What is the matter with you? Can’t you see she loves you?’

‘Love isn’t everything, Raul,’ he threw back at his brother in Spanish, finding it liberating to be letting it all out, letting all the emotions he’d been holding behind his dam of hurt burst over the top. ‘I certainly didn’t get any from my father and I’m damn sure you didn’t either.’