The Vasquez Baby

She’d changed tactic in mid-fight but this alternative, gentler assault was infinitely more deadly than the fierce blast of her temper.

She was getting close. Too close. Closer than any woman had ever dared tread before.

‘We’ve been talking non-stop,’ he said coldly, retreating mentally and physically from the question he saw in her eyes.

‘Maybe we haven’t been talking about the right things.’

Swiftly, he sidestepped an issue he had no intention of exploring further. ‘You betrayed my trust.’

‘No.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘Why would you even think that?’

‘Because you went to astonishing lengths to drag me into this marriage.’

‘That is not what happened!’

‘Then what did happen, Faith? Why are we standing here, as husband and wife, because I sure as hell don’t know!’ His words thickened, his usually faultless accent tinged with a hint of his South American heritage.

She stood in front of him and he could actually see her slim legs shaking. In fact she was shaking so badly that for a moment he wondered whether she might actually collapse. Her face had lost every last hint of colour and she looked as though she were in shock. ‘We’re here because I thought it was what you wanted. You proposed, Raul. You asked me to marry you.’

‘Because you gave me no other option! Have you listened to anything I’ve said over the past ten months?’ With a supreme effort of will, he kept his voice level even though the temptation to vent his wrath was extreme. ‘Right from the beginning I made it clear to you—no marriage, no babies. If that’s what you had planned then you should have been with another man.’

But even as he uttered the words he knew them for a lie. He would never have let her go to another man.

‘I didn’t have anything planned. I didn’t plan any of this!’ Some of her spirit returned. ‘I came to your wretched estancia because the job was interesting and I wanted to see something of South America. All you were to me was a name. A guy who knew about horses!’

Watching her trembling and shaking in front of him, Raul frowned. ‘Calm down.’ She looked impossibly fragile and he watched with a mixture of concern and exasperation as she grew more and more agitated, her slender hands clasping and unclasping by her sides.

‘Don’t tell me to calm down! How can I possibly calm down when you’re accusing me of planning as though I’m some sort of s-s—’ she stumbled over the word ‘—scheming woman, out to trap you. I’m not scheming. I never planned or plotted. I had an accident! It happens to millions of women every day! And it wasn’t just my fault! You were there, too! You’re very quick to blame me, but I wasn’t alone in this. I didn’t have sex by myself. You were there, Raul, every time. You were there in our bed every night. You were there in the shower, in the stables, in your office, in the fields—wherever I was, you were. I didn’t do this by myself!’

Her passionate diatribe conjured up images of such disturbing clarity that it took him a moment to formulate a response. ‘You assured me that you were protected.’

‘Well, it seems that nothing is foolproof. I’ve thought about it and thought about it.’ Faith swallowed. ‘I was sick, if you remember. I

picked up that bug when we spent the night in that hotel outside Cordoba, when you were looking at a horse. I didn’t even think of it at the time, but it was probably enough—’

He digested that information in silence. ‘It’s history now.’

‘No, it isn’t history. I can’t be with a man who would think that badly of me!’

‘All marriages hit sticky patches.’

‘But not within hours of the ceremony! I hate you, Raul.’ The tears spilled down her cheeks and she started to sob. Not delicate, controlled sobs designed to win a man round, but tearing, anguished sobs that seemed to place great strain on her slender frame. ‘I hate you for not believing me, I hate you for marrying me when that wasn’t what you really wanted, but most of all I really, really hate you for not caring that I lost the baby.’

Raul swore fluently and stepped towards her but she held up a hand to stop him.

‘Don’t come near me,’ she choked. ‘Don’t you dare touch me or I’ll injure you.’

He stiffened. ‘You’re obviously distressed—’

‘And you are the reason for that distress! Make up your mind, Raul. You can’t accuse me of lying and manipulating one minute and then offer to support me the next. When I told you that I’d lost the baby—that was when I needed your support.’ Her voice was thickened and clogged with tears. ‘But what did you do? You accused me of having become pregnant on purpose to trap you into marriage. I didn’t just lose the baby, I lost you because I realised then that I couldn’t be with a man who would think me capable of something like that.’

‘What was I supposed to think?’ Infuriated by her totally unjust accusations, Raul felt his own tension levels soar.

‘You were supposed to think that I wouldn’t have done that to you. To us! That was what you were supposed to think.’ Her face was streaked with tears but for some reason she didn’t look pathetic or sorry for herself, just angry and passionate and very, very beautiful. ‘I know you find it hard to show your feelings, but I assumed you loved me. I assumed you cared about me. It didn’t occur to me to even question that because I thought we were happy together. So at the time, all I was really thinking about was the baby and how sad I was.’

Raul turned away and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘It might have helped if you’d told me about the miscarriage before the wedding.’

‘Well if I’d known how jaded and cynical you are then perhaps I would have done, although goodness knows when! You arrived five minutes before the ceremony! If I’d talked about it then I would have broken down and I thought it would be bad for your image to be seen marrying a woman who was sobbing.’