Lynne Graham's Brides of L'Amour Bundle

The previous month she had only shared Roel’s bed for a week. How likely was it that she could have conceived in so short a space of time? Hadn’t she read a newspaper article about falling fertility rates? Most probably stress had upset her menstrual cycle and that very disruption was throwing her whole system out of sync and making her feel unwell. She would wait a few days and if she were still concerned she would have a pregnancy test. In the meantime it would be madness for her to start fretting herself into a panic over something that might never happen.

Umberto brought her a phone. It was Roel.

‘I meant to call you last night but the meeting went on too late,’ he asserted.

His dark, deep drawl sounded wonderful on the phone line and she was furious with herself for noticing that. ‘Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.’

‘We’re attending a party tonight, cara.’

‘Oh, so I get a night out for good behaviour,’ she sniped.

‘And a night in for bad. No prizes for guessing which I would prefer,’ he incised smoothly. ‘I’m no party animal.’

While she dressed that evening she waited with bated breath for the communicating door between their bedrooms to open. Sheathed in a green evening dress that bared her shoulders and accentuated the creamy perfection of her pale skin, she finally descended the stairs.

Roel strolled out into the hall below her. Heavily lidded dark-as-night eyes scanned her and glittered gold with appreciation. ‘You look good.’

Madly conscious of his scrutiny, she turned pink. ‘No need to sound so surprised.’

‘It crossed my mind that you might try to score points by opting to wear something totally inappropriate,’ Roel admitted.

‘I wouldn’t be that childish.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I put the wedding ring back on…by the way.’

‘Why not? You worked hard enough for it,’ Roel derided with silken cool.

Her face flamed as though he had slapped her. ‘When you speak to me like that I hate you!’

Roel vented a jeering laugh. ‘It’s traditional for hatred to blossom between married couples in my family.’

‘Your mother fell for someone else. That didn’t mean she hated your father—’

‘Didn’t it? She was in love with that same man when she married my father. My father’s love turned to hate when he realised the truth.’

Hilary winced. ‘Why on earth did she marry him?’

‘Money,’ Roel said succinctly, tucking her into the limousine waiting outside the house. ‘My grandmother was equally rapacious but more moral. She gave my grandfather, Clemente, one child and then informed him that her duty was done. Although they remained below the same roof until her death, they never lived as man and wife again.’

‘It seems wrong that your mother married your father when she loved another man. But maybe there were pressures on her that you don’t know about or maybe she even believed that she was doing the right thing and would learn to love your father,’ Hilary contended, keen to encourage him to be less judgemental when it came to other people’s mistakes.

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nbsp; ‘That possibility had never occurred to me,’ Roel said very drily. ‘Do you suppose that she gave birth to me in the hope that she might learn to love me too?’

Hilary blenched at the cutting note of ridicule in that suggestion. ‘I was only trying to say that there are two sides to any unhappy marriage and there might have been extenuating circumstances…I was trying to comfort you.’

‘But I don’t need comfort.’ Bold, bronzed face taut, Roel spoke with acid clarity. ‘I don’t even remember my mother. She died before I was four years old.’

‘How?’

Roel shrugged. ‘She drowned.’

‘I’m sorry you never had the chance to know her. Yes, I know you think I’m very sentimental,’ she conceded. ‘But if you only knew how much I would give to have my mother back to talk to for just five minutes…I would do just about anything for that chance—’

‘If you can’t persuade your heart to bleed in silence,’ Roel interrupted with icy derision, ‘I’ll attend the party on my own.’

‘I think that would be the best idea,’ Hilary retorted a little unevenly because her eyes were glimmering with tears and her throat was closing over. ‘I don’t think I want to spend one more second in the company of someone as unfeeling as you are!’

‘We’re almost at the airport. Calm down. You’re too emotional—’