So maybe there was a one-in-ten-million chance that a miracle might occur and she would conceive. Why was she even thinking such nonsense? Antonio, she thought painfully, would be absolutely appalled if she were to fall pregnant. He would already have an image of the kind of woman he would choose to become the mother of his child. She was willing to bet that the likely lady would be blue-blooded, beautiful and fancy just as he was. But that woman would still be only his second wife. Well, at least she’d have been the first wife and nobody could take that away from her, Sophie reminded herself dully. Although she had to remember that she was only a wife because of Lydia and only in bed with Antonio because he had an overactive libido. Wasn’t that the most likely explanation of all?
‘I’ve arranged to take a couple of weeks off,’ Antonio confessed, striving for a casual note. ‘I need to spend more time with you and Lydia.’
Sophie splayed small fingers across the hair-roughened expanse of his virile chest and released a contented sigh. ‘You definitely do.’
He rolled over, swinging her under him to gaze down at her with smouldering dark golden eyes. ‘Do you think you could keep me entertained for that length of time?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Sophie surveyed his lean bronzed face from beneath her curling lashes, a newly playful light in her sparkling gaze. ‘After all, the boot will be on the other foot.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Josias might be a tough act for you to follow.’
Reluctant appreciation of that sally lit Antonio’s appraisal even as his big, powerful body tensed at the impudence of that challenge and suggested comparison. ‘Anything he can do…’ Antonio shrugged with magnificent assurance. ‘Can you doubt it, gatita?’
Her heart swelled with love, for his supreme confidence made her feel safe. ‘I have no doubts about you at all—’
‘That sounds ominous.’ Antonio finally slotted in a question he had been holding back for quite a few minutes in search of the right light moment. ‘I saw that interview you did with the magazine—’
‘Wasn’t it amazing? Didn’t the cameraman make me look really special?’ Sophie exclaimed with pleasure. ‘I did it for a charity…you’d be amazed at the size of the donation the magazine made to their funds. The interviewer said really nice things about me too—’
‘Journalists generally do in publications of that nature. If they were unpleasant, people would not give them access to their lives and their homes,’ Antonio said drily.
‘I never thought of that. But I was hoping you would see the interview and be proud of me. What did you think?’ she prompted eagerly.
That, aside of the business news, a Rocha should only receive a mention in print on the occasions of birth, marriage and death. That was Antonio’s attitude to all such publicity.
Antonio sidestepped the question. ‘I wondered who the Ferrari in the photos belonged to—’
‘Josias…’
Antonio was learning that the mere mention of a name could set his teeth on edge.
‘He gave me a lift from Reina’s apartment to a restaurant. Of course, if you take me out to eat at least once a week, promise to teach me how to drive and constantly tell me that I’m fantastically beautiful and fantastic fun, I could probably get by without Josias,’ Sophie told him deadpan, dancing green eyes pinned to his frowning incredulity.
‘Yes to the eating out. No to the driving— I’d be a hellish teacher. As for Josias’s seduction routine, I don’t copy,’ Antonio informed her huskily, rearranging her under him to his own very precise requirements and with a sexual intimacy and finesse that made her shiver in wanton anticipation of the pleasure to come. ‘I have my own methods, mi rica.’
But it was the smile that transfixed Sophie. That dazzling, charismatic smile that was purely for her and the conviction he gave that nothing was more important than her at that moment. It was her dream, and shutting out her misgivings and her fears, she surrendered to living her dream.
CHAPTER NINE
SIX weeks later, Sophie sat in the bright and colourful nursery watching Antonio demonstrate in all seriousness to Lydia how to crawl. Amusement was threatening to crack her up, but she managed to keep a straight face. All his life Antonio had been a high achiever and, having read a book on child development, he had learned all the important milestones and was keen to see Lydia sprint ahead of her peers.
‘You’re wasting your time,’ Sophie warned him gently. ‘Some babies may crawl at this age, but I don’t think Lydia is likely to be one of them. She’s too laid-back and contented to rush into making that much effort.’
‘Perhaps all she needs is encouragement,’ Antonio informed her stubbornly while his niece chuckled at the sight of him on hands and knees and held up her arms to be lifted.
‘No, Lydia’s not the physically active type. You can tell by the way she behaves. Belinda was like that. She loved to be lazy. I could hardly get her out of bed in the morning.’
‘But her daughter just might take after my side of the family—’
‘I think we’d know by now if that was on the cards,’ Sophie interposed. ‘We’d have found her barking out orders to the staff through the bars of her cot, setting her own developmental targets and threatening to leave home unless we let her sit up to watch the stock market close.’
A slow grin curved Antonio’s handsome mouth. ‘I don’t bark out orders…’
‘Well, you do it very politely, but you are an incredibly bossy person,’ Sophie told him, watching him surrender to Lydia’s pantomime of pathetic pleading and hoist his delighted niece in the air. ‘Just promise me one thing…that you’re not going to be disappointed with Lydia if she fails to set the world on fire.’
Antonio shot her a look of reproach. ‘Of course not. As her parents we can hope and pray that she enjoys good health and happiness as she grows up. But beyond that her life will be what she chooses it to be.’
His common-sense outlook impressed Sophie and she scolded herself for worrying that he might have too high expectations of Lydia. After all, in recent weeks she had come to appreciate that Antonio was demonstrating all the signs of becoming a fantastic father. For a start, Lydia just adored him. Her little face shone with trust and love and pleasure the instant Antonio appeared. Antonio might have started out spending time with Lydia because he knew that that was what he ought to do. But his niece’s enthusiastic response to his attention had swiftly won her his interest and affection for her own sake.
As for Sophie, she was simply basking in the kind of happiness she had never dared to hope might be hers. Six weeks ago, Antonio had swept her and Lydia off to a Caribbean villa for the best part of a month. They had had a wonderful time. He had taught her how to sail and swim and snorkel, and she had taught him how to make the sort of basic sandcastle that Lydia could then be allowed to destroy. Even with a baby in tow the number of staff looking after their needs had ensured that the holiday was a honeymoon in every sense of the word.
There had been long, endless days when they had barely stirred further than the sunlit privacy of the terrace beyond their bedroom. Days the
y had barely got out of bed and surrendered body and soul to the overwhelming magnetic attraction that kept on welding them back together again when satiation ought to have long since set in. She studied him with a secret smile. He was an incredible lover and in that department they appeared to be a perfect match. He might not be able to keep his hands off her, but she was equally useless at keeping her hands off him, she conceded with hot cheeks. Every time she saw him she wanted to connect with him in some way just to convince herself that he was still hers.
Since returning from the Caribbean they had spent most of their time at the castillo. There the more leisurely pace of life and the vast swathe of countryside encompassed by the Salazar estate allowed them a peaceful seclusion that they could have found in no other place. Sophie had got to know the staff, had managed to handle a couple of semi-formal dinner parties and was gradually becoming acquainted with the tenants as well. She now had quite a vocabulary of Spanish words and expressions and had agreed to teach new stitches to the needlework group that met in the village. Her skill with a needle had crossed the barriers of language and nationality and had done more than anything else to help her to win acceptance as Antonio’s wife.
Antonio closed his arms round her as she straightened from settling Lydia into her cot. ‘Lunch…’ he growled soft and low.
The feel and the familiar scent of him hit Sophie like an instant aphrodisiac and she wriggled back shamelessly into the hard, muscular shelter of his lithe, powerful body.
‘Keep on doing that and you’re likely to go hungry until we dine this evening,’ Antonio promised in a husky purr.
Her knees went weak at that sensual threat. She leant back into his impressively male frame, wickedly conscious of the helpless awakening of her own body. He used a certain tone of voice and looked at her with those spectacular golden eyes in a certain way and she just melted into a pitiful puddle of eager longing.