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  Deep in her heart, she knew it would be sooner. But the joy of that knowledge was crushed beneath the boulder sitting on her chest.

  Ramon emerged from the salon and for a moment the weight lightened. Her gaze met his as he joined her at the poolside, her senses barely registering the kitchen staff who followed a moment later with a tray holding fruit punch.

  Ramon too had changed into a lighter T-shirt that hugged his impressive torso and a pair of swim shorts that framed his powerful thighs.

  Tall, proud, virile and impossibly handsome.

  His gaze obscured by aviator sunglasses, he stretched out on a lounger. She stared, unable to help herself, unable to fathom why the sight of him did such unimaginably crazy things to her. Why, even when he was with her, a part of her mourned the future loss.

  How can you mourn something that never truly belonged to you?

  Because she was only borrowing for a while, wasn’t she?

  Frustration and confusion battling through her, she pushed away from the wall, dived under the water in the vain hope that the exercise would bring her some clarity.

  It didn’t.

  When she eventually gave up and walked up the shallow steps, he met her at the edge of the pool, wrapping a towel around her before leading her back to the loungers.

  He waited until she’d patted herself dry, then poured her a drink. Thirstily, she drank the punch, eyeing him as he grabbed sun protection, squeezed a portion into his palm and tugged her foot into his lap. In silence he massaged the protection over her ankles and up her calves.

  Her breath hitched when he slid those sure hands over her thighs, but, although his movements were firm and efficient, his touch didn’t linger.

  Fighting the hunger that was never far off when he touched her like this, she took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry if I brought back memories for you earlier.’

  A handful of seconds passed, then he shrugged. ‘No es nada,’ he dismissed. ‘Your peace of mind is more important than my past liaisons.’

  ‘Is it? I guess we’re making progress, then.’

  With the shades obscuring his eyes, she couldn’t tell their expression. But she felt tension bouncing off him as his hands froze on her thigh. ‘Is there something else on your mind, Suki? I thought we were done, but perhaps you wish to air whatever troubles had you clinging so tightly to the pool tiles ten minutes ago?’ His voice was even, but it held the barest hint of a storm that intensified her floundering.

  ‘You were watching me?’

  ‘You decided you wanted to swim directly after lunch,’ he replied, as if that explained everything.

  ‘You know that those theories about cramps from swimming after a meal have been proven groundless, right?’ she snapped.

  ‘I know that you seem to be spoiling for a fight. Are you?’

  The laughter that emerged was dry. ‘I don’t know. Maybe let’s blame the past few hours on crazy hormones.’ Words that were meant to be offhand suddenly grew leaden, dropped like anchors between them.

  Ramon went completely still. Suki was sure he’d stopped breathing. ‘To which type of hormones are you referring?’ he asked, that storm powered by a different kind of energy now.

  ‘Which do you think?’ Her voice was little more than hushed sound, her instincts clamouring.

  He reached up and slid off his glasses, as if he wanted no barrier between them when he asked, ‘Are you sure?’ His accent was pronounced; a deep husk throbbing with a maelstrom of emotions.

  Suki willed her racing heart to calm. ‘I... I think so.’

  He stood and held out his hand in silent command. ‘There’s only one way to find out. Come.’

  Her head tilted higher to read his face. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Upstairs. Unless you wish to perform the tests down here?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘You bought pregnancy tests?’

  ‘Sí, of course. A dozen of them when we were in Miami.’

  ‘But you didn’t say anything...’

  His hand extended again impatiently. ‘I was waiting for you. And now you’re wasting time, Suki.’

  She slid her hand into his, secretly grateful for the support when she rose on shaky legs.

  For a moment, they faced each other, saying nothing as hardly a breath passed between them. Then he was leading her away from the pool, through the salon and down the endless hallways to the grand staircase.

  His fingers tightened around hers for a second before he made an impatient sound. The next instant, he swept her into his arms. Her already non-existent breath completely evaporated at the sizzling skin-to-skin contact. But while her senses went into free fall, he was taking the stairs with quick, purposeful strides, barely exerting himself as he carried her into his suite.

  In his large, luxuriously appointed bathroom, he set her down on the cushioned vanity seat, pulled open a drawer and scooped out the long, rectangular boxes. With uncharacteristically unsteady movements, he started to rip open the boxes.

  Suki stopped him when he reached for the fifth one.

  ‘I think we have enough.’

  He paused, looked as if he wanted to disagree, then gave a tight nod. ‘Do you need anything else?’ he rasped, casting a searching look around the bathroom.

  ‘N-no. I’m fine.’

  Still he hesitated. Finally, he nodded again, and left the bathroom.

  Heart in her throat, Suki reached for the first white and blue stick. The handful of kits he’d bought were far superior quality to the ones she’d used previously, but the basics were the same.

  An excruciating three minutes later, she had her answer.

  She emerged to find him pacing the bedroom in tight circles, one hand clamped on his nape. He spun around immediately.

  A vein throbbed at his temple. Eyes ablaze with rabid, expectant light fixed on her. His mouth worked, but no sound emerged.

  The equally soul-shaking cocktail of emotions rampaging through her weakened her limbs. Leaning against the door frame, she slowly held up the sticks. ‘I’m... I’m pregnant.’

  His hand dropped from his neck, his eyes turning a dark, dark green she was associating with deep emotional upheaval. When after a full minute he said nothing, she nervously licked her lips. ‘Did you hear—?’

  ‘Sí, querida. I heard you,’ he croaked.

  ‘And?’ The blend of joy, hope and naked fear in her voice was very easy to discern.

  Coming to life again, he ate up the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands. She’d seen a ruthlessly determined Ramon more times than she cared for. The expression that crossed his face was nothing short of a man on a crusade.

  ‘And this time things will be different. We will succeed this time.’ He repeated the words he’d said last night.

  And because she needed that assurance more than she would’ve thought possible, because she wanted to hold on to something...anything that affirmed the belief that things would be different this time, she took a deep breath, and, just like last time, she nodded. ‘Yes.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  RAMON ENTERED THE sunlit space that was his studio one week later and drew to a stop.

  The temperature was the same as it had been yesterday, the blue sky visible through his glass roof just as cloudless. The floor bore evidence of his deep frustrations. And yet, the light was almost blinding. And he felt more invigorated than he had in...hell, he couldn’t remember.

  Sure, there were a million other emotions bubbling beneath the surface of his skin that he didn’t want to name, never mind examine, but the energy surging through him was so overwhelming, he experienced its sizzle to the very tips of his fingers.

  A father. He was going to become a father.

  He’d plotted, planned and executed it. But he h
adn’t allowed himself to fully embrace its possibilities. Same as he had never thought himself particularly invested in evolution or been hell-bent on leaving his mark on the Earth the way some men were obsessed with. Not until Luis had dropped the news of his lost unborn child in his lap. Not until precarious conditions on a rainy night in Mexico had caused a lorry to smash into his parents’ car, ending the lives of the three people who meant the world to him.

  The dark gloom and relentless anguish that dogged his days hadn’t suddenly lifted, but for the first time in a long time Ramon was able to take a breath that wasn’t drawn from a place of complete despair.

  He knew part of that stemmed from what Suki had told him. She’d wanted their child. Fate had forced her to make a different, harrowing decision. One he couldn’t fault her for. Absurdly, mourning for his lost child too now felt a little easier.

  He took another deep, soul-restoring breath. He wasn’t naive to the risks involved in every pregnancy, had probably over-educated himself on the subject. But the unfamiliar sentiment he first witnessed in Suki’s face and was beginning to entertain himself—hope—had been bolstered by the requisite doctors’ tests and reassurance.

  All of which had turned him into the very laughable, very unrecognisable cliché of a reborn man.

  Fairly certain it was that same alien sentiment that was leading him to re-examine other ideas he’d sealed in the never again vault, he’d left a napping Suki in her suite and retreated to the studio.

  He looked around him at the half-finished works that had documented his turbulent state of mind.

  Pieces he’d promised to his galleries for fast-approaching exhibits lay abandoned, giant hunks of metal, stone and marble enshrouded beneath black cloth.

  Ignoring them, he crossed the cavernous space to the back of the studio where untouched slabs of stone and marble were lined up on wheel brackets. Running his hands over the raw material, he settled on the smooth Carrara marble.

  Wheeling it to the middle of the room, he yanked off his T-shirt, powered up his tools and started to sculpt.

  Three hours later, the frame of his idea had begun to take shape. Unsettlingly, so had the idea that the parameters of the bargain he’d struck with Suki could...should be altered.

  Like the master strategist the world claimed him to be, he stepped back from fully embracing it, weighing the pros and cons as the days passed.

  In many ways it wasn’t a road he wanted to go down again. But there was more than himself to think about now. And his child outweighed any con that stood in his way.

  So he chipped away, until the one that remained was Suki herself.

  * * *

  The first six weeks of pregnancy rolled by in a dizzying tumult of blinding joy, hopefulness and inevitable moments of abject fear. The urge to make plans, choose a nursery and start decorating immediately was tempered by the need to exercise brutal caution. With each day that passed, Suki counted her blessings. Hell, she even welcomed the double bout of morning sickness that plagued her this time round.

  Through it all, Ramon remained a steady presence at hand to see to her general well-being. Just as he’d made it his mission to get her pregnant, he took on the role of ruthless overseer with aplomb, never straying far when she was awake, reciting bare but reassuring statistics when worry threatened to take over.

  He found excuses to be in the room when she tested colour swatches on walls and supervised the staining of the new mantelpiece. He threw a casual arm over her shoulder and held her at a distance when the restorers reinserted the mosaic windows and even helped her re-plaster the priceless tiles.

  The belief that he would be committed to his child was indelibly cemented into place. Between that, the doctors’ continued reassurance about her healthy pregnancy and the fact that her mother had undergone the first round of treatment and come through with flying colours should’ve placed her somewhere on cloud nine.

  Except for one large hole in the fabric of her contentment.

  She and Ramon no longer shared a bed. Despite knowing the day was coming, his immediate and complete withdrawal following confirmation of her pregnancy had lodged a nasty little ball of anguish in her chest she hadn’t been able to destroy no matter how much she tried.

  And she’d tried.

  By reminding herself how her presence here came about. By summoning up Svetlana’s drop-dead gorgeous form, comparing it to her own and reiterating that she would always be found wanting.

  And if that wasn’t enough, she had Ramon’s own words to remind her why she needed to find a way to deal with the silly torment of her crush.

  We were engaged to be married. Of course I cared...

  Except Suki couldn’t hide from the fact that this time, it was more than a crush. Her crush had been unwieldy and inconvenient. So much so she’d given in at the first true lesson in temptation in the hope of getting rid of it.

  But this...

  This ache grew mockingly bigger, churning more anguish with each passing day. And it stemmed from the simple knowledge that she missed him. Missed his sometimes acerbic tongue. Missed him teasing her about her love of Teresa’s cooking.

  Most of all, she missed falling asleep in his arms. A fact she readily accepted was her most foolish yearning of all.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  She jumped at the sharp demand, her heart racing as her hand stilled from the light gloss she’d been applying to the frame of an antique painting that had once hung in the drawing room that was being restored.

  Carefully she modulated her voice so her feelings wouldn’t bleed through. ‘What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.’

  ‘Then why were you standing there with your face contorted and your hand on your stomach?’ came the sharper query.

  Realising the direction of his thoughts, she dropped the rag, set the painting against the wall, and turned. ‘Ramon, there’s nothing wrong, I prom—’ The rest of the words died in her throat at the sight of him.

  He was shirtless. Again. A light sheen of sweat covered his insanely chiselled torso and dampened the trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of weathered trousers that were stained with specks of marble dust and the special oil he used on his tools when he was sculpting.

  Suki wanted to blame pregnancy hormones for the way her senses went into meltdown at the sight of his half-naked form, but she knew that would be false. Her stupefying reaction to Ramon was nothing new. But it would seriously get out of hand if she wasn’t careful.

  ‘You were saying?’ he pressed, one hand reaching into his back pocket to pluck a towel to wipe his grimy fingers on.

  The sight of those slim, capable fingers, the sweat on his skin, the earthy, sexy smell of him.

  Dear God, he was too much.

  ‘I was saying I’m fine,’ she replied, her voice waspish. ‘And do you have to go around half naked all the time?’

  One eyebrow spiked. ‘Does the sight of me offend you?’ he drawled.

  She wanted to laugh. And cry. Maybe throw in a scream or two. Instead, she chose the high road paved with composure and dignity. ‘On second thought, forget it. It’s your house. You can come and go as you please, I suppose.’

  ‘Gracias... I think,’ he returned dryly.

  With nothing more to add, and the even more urgent need to do something other than give in to the temptation to stare at his glorious half-nakedness, she picked up the painting and started walking towards the door. She’d barely taken a few steps when he intercepted her and took it from her.

  ‘I hired an additional team so you didn’t have to do your own carrying, Suki,’ he grumbled.

  Once her morning sickness had abated, a second team of architects had arrived. With the detailed photos from the room, they’d come up with a schedule of when the restoration works would start. She’d been forbidden
from any lifting so Suki set up a temporary office in one of the many bedrooms on the second floor and contented herself with choosing the antique furniture, wallpaper and drapes to finish the room with once the work was done.

  ‘That painting weighs less than my laptop and, besides, I need the exercise.’

  His scowl was pure storm clouds. ‘Not one that involves you going up and down the stairs a dozen times a day.’

  She stopped herself from pointing out that she’d only been down twice today, both times at his bidding, to share a meal with him. ‘Was there a particular reason you came looking for me? Or are you gracing me with your grumpy presence just for laughs?’

  He paused at the top of the stairs and eyed her. ‘Now who’s grumpy?’

  ‘You haven’t answered my questions.’

  He observed her pursed-lips response for a minute before he started walking down the stairs.

  Following a step behind him, she couldn’t avoid staring at his gladiator-like physique, the beautiful musculature of his back and the light bounce of his slightly unruly hair as he moved in that deeply animalistic way unique to him.

  One of the restorers was coming out of a hallway as they reached the ground floor. Ramon handed over the painting with a flurry of Spanish that received several quick and agreeable nods, before he turned to her.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Go where? And what did you say to the contractor?’ she asked.

  He turned in the direction of the main salon and she, with no choice, followed. ‘I suggested that perhaps they would be better off making less trips to the kitchen to take advantage of our housekeeper’s culinary skills and more manpower keeping you from having to traipse around with antiques. He was kind enough to agree.’

  ‘Ramon!’

  He stopped, turned to face her. And she noticed that, despite his casual tone, he was highly vexed. ‘We had a deal, guapa. One that I’d hoped wouldn’t need us to have this conversation.’