Rising Stars. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
murmuring in her sleep as she turned on his soft feather pillow with its thousand-thread-count Egyptian cotton pillowcase. Eduardo closed the heavy curtains around the windows, darkening the room. He covered her sleeping form with a blanket, then for a long moment, he looked down at her, listening to her steady, even breath.
He’d only meant their marriage to last three months. He hadn’t thought he could endure it for longer.
But in the forty-eight hours since the birth, his perspective had changed.
His daughter was small and innocent and oh, so fragile. Eduardo knew what it meant to feel like unwanted baggage, like a stray without a home. He wanted his daughter to feel safe and protected, not split between divorced parents, between two lives. He wanted her to have not just a name, but a real home. A real family.
And no matter what Eduardo thought of Callie, he knew she loved their baby. He’d seen it in the way she’d fought through the pain of childbirth with such bravery. In the way she’d sacrificed her own body, her own sleep and peace, in order to nurture and cherish their child. Even in the way she’d fought with him over her name.
Eduardo’s jaw set. If Callie could endure pain, so could he. He turned away. There would be no divorce. They both would sacrifice. He would give up his desire for a wife he could trust. She would give up her dreams of love. Love was an illusion, anyway.
Responsibility was not.
She might not like his plan. Eduardo exhaled, remembering her horrified reaction when he’d first proposed marriage. She wouldn’t accept a permanent union without a fight. So he would give her time to accept their loveless marriage. To appreciate what he could offer. To forget the people she’d left behind.
His hand tightened on the doorknob. He’d give her the agreed-upon three months to see the benefits of their marriage. And if, at the end, Callie still wanted her freedom?
He glanced back through the shadowy bedroom with narrowed eyes. Then he’d ruthlessly keep her prisoner, like a songbird in a gilded cage. Walking into the hallway, Eduardo shut the double doors behind him with quiet, ominous finality.
Now that Callie was his wife, he never intended to let her go.
CHAPTER FOUR
CALLIE sat up straight in bed.
Disoriented, she put her hands to her head, feeling dizzy and half-asleep as she looked around the strange, dark room. Where was she? How did she get in this bed? Her breasts were full and aching, and she was still dressed in the same long-sleeved T-shirt and knit pants she’d worn from the hospital. She had no memory of how she’d gotten here, but she’d thought she heard her baby crying….
Her baby! She sucked in her breath. Where was her baby?
“Soleil?” she whimpered. She jumped up from bed and screamed, “Soleil!”
Light flooded the room from the hallway as double doors opened. Suddenly Eduardo’s arms were around her.
“Where is she?” she cried in panic, struggling in his arms. She looked up at the hard lines of his face, half-hidden in shadows. “Where have you taken her?”
“She’s here.” Eduardo abruptly released her, crossing the bedroom to fling open a door. “Here!”
Her baby’s cries became louder. With a gasp, Callie ran through the door. As he turned on a lamp, she saw the bassinet. Sobbing with relief, she scooped her baby up into her arms.
The baby’s cries subsided the instant she was cradled against her mother’s breast, but she was clearly hungry. Callie sat down in a soft glider near the lamp and started to pull up her T-shirt. She stopped, looking up awkwardly at Eduardo. “I need to feed her.”
His dark eyes shimmered in the dim lamplight. “Go ahead.”
“You’re watching.”
“I’ve seen your breasts before.”
She glared at him. “Turn around!”
He lifted an eyebrow then with a sigh he turned away.
Once he was safely facing the other direction, Callie lifted up her shirt, pulled down her nursing bra and got her baby latched on to her breast. She flinched at first then relaxed as her tiny daughter started gulping blissfully.
“Sounds like she was hungry.”
“Don’t listen!” Callie cried, annoyed.
He gave a low laugh. “Sorry.”
Moments passed in silence, and Callie took a deep breath, suddenly ashamed. “I’m sorry about earlier. I just panicked. I woke up in a strange place and didn’t know where I was.”
His spine stiffened, but he didn’t turn. “You fell asleep in the car, on the way home. I carried you upstairs. Don’t you remember?”
The last thing she recalled was arguing with him as they drove through Central Park. He’d been pressuring her about their baby’s name—as if Callie would ever name her sweet newborn after a spoiled Spanish heiress! But the soft hum of the engine had been hypnotic.
“I guess I was tired.” She rubbed her hand over her eyes. “I slept so hard that I almost thought you’d drugged me so you could steal the baby. Funny, right?”
His voice was cold. “Hilarious.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of …” Her throat constricted.
He turned to face her, but he definitely wasn’t looking at her breasts. “Of stealing the baby?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
His eyes glimmered in the dim light. “Don’t worry about it.”
He was being nice, which made her feel even worse. For months, she’d hated Eduardo, calling him a coldhearted jerk to her parents and friends, telling them stories about his worst flaws, telling herself he didn’t deserve to be a father.
But she was the coldhearted jerk. Her lips parted. If not for Sami’s meddling, she would have done the dreadful thing she’d just accused him of: she’d have stolen their baby. He never would have even known he had a daughter.
How could Eduardo stand to look at her?
“I was wrong not to tell you.” It took all her courage to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Forget it,” he said harshly. He folded his arms. “We both made mistakes. It’s in the past. Our marriage is a fresh start.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling like she didn’t deserve his generosity. Awkwardly she looked around them. The nursery was straight out of a celebrity magazine, with soft yellow walls, stuffed animals, and the sleek comfort of an expensive designer crib and bassinet. “This is nice.”
“I had my staff redecorate the study while we were at the hospital.”
“Your staff?”
“Mrs. McAuliffe.”
“I’ve always known I liked her,” Callie said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “So next door is the guest room?”
He shook his head. “It’s the master bedroom.”
Her heart plummeted. “I … I was sleeping in your bed?”
“Sí.”
“Oh.” She swallowed and tried to pretend it was no big deal that she’d slept sprawled across the same bed where Eduardo Cruz slept naked every night, when he wasn’t entertaining lingerie models. Feeling self-conscious, she moved her baby to the other breast, quickly covering up any flash of skin with her cotton shirt. Cheeks flaming, she glanced up at Eduardo, but thank heaven, he was carefully looking away. “Well, thanks,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “I’ll move to the guest