Rising Stars. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
there anything I could do to help you sleep?” Realizing how blatant that sounded, she blushed. “I mean, could I get you some warm milk or something?”
“No,” he said abruptly then amended, “but thanks.”
She looked at him. “Why didn’t you kick me out?” she whispered. “Last Christmas, the night I stayed at your house?”
His eyes met hers. “You weren’t just some starlet I picked up at a gala. You were important to me. I wanted you to stay.”
“You did?” she breathed. “Why?”
“Don’t you know?” Pulling her into his arms, he lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Then he smiled … the charming, megawatt smile that always twisted her heart in a million pieces. “I need you, Callie.”
Eduardo looked at his wife in the shadows of the hallway. Her pale cheeks were rosy, her emerald eyes bright, and her light brown hair, long and wavy, fell over the shoulders of her blue robe. She was so sexy, so soft and desirable. He’d just had her, and already he wanted her again. He wanted her even more.
Callie’s eyes filled up with tears.
“You need me? I thought … I thought you only wanted me here because of the baby.”
He moved toward her, gently brushing her hair off her shoulders. “That’s not the only reason.”
Trembling, she looked up at him. Words seemed to tremble on her lips, but at the last moment, she turned away. Staring down the dark, quiet hall, she wrapped her arms around her body. The sleeves of the blue chenille robe hung long over her wrists, making her look like a kid playing dress-up.
“I want to stay with you,” she said softly. “And be your wife.”
Eduardo’s heart rose with fierce triumph. “Querida—”
She held up her hand. Her green eyes were luminous. “But I will no longer neglect and ignore my friends and family just to coddle your insecurity.”
Her harsh words were like a slap across the jaw. His eyes widened then narrowed. “Coddle my insecurity.” His voice was low and dangerous. “You mean how I’ve forbidden you to talk to Brandon McLinn.”
“Yes.”
Jaw tight, he took a step toward her. “You should just let him go.”
“No.” Her eyes glittered defiantly. “He’s my friend.”
“Friend!” he snarled. He shook his head. “He told me you’d been engaged since high school. He said even if you’d fallen into bed with me, I meant nothing to you and that you’d soon be done with me—”
Eduardo stopped, his jaw tight, his heart pounding. He hadn’t meant to say so much. Brow furrowed, Callie came closer, and the soft light from the guest room illuminated her pale, beautiful face. She gave an awkward laugh.
“Want to hear a funny story? At senior prom, we made this silly pact that if we weren’t married by the time we were thirty, we would marry each other.”
“You’re only twenty-five.”
“Yes, I know. I’m starting to wonder if perhaps Brandon was—” she licked her lips uncomfortably “—well, maybe threatened by you.”
Suddenly it all made sense.
Eduardo sucked in his breath. “You weren’t in love with him, were you? He was trying to get rid of me, and it worked.” He clawed back his hair with his hand. “Once I was out of the way, he used your pregnancy as an excuse to move in for the kill.”
Drawing back in confusion, Callie shook her head. “He loves me, yes, but like a brother!”
“I was such a fool.” Pacing two steps down the hall, he could hardly believe his own stupidity. That night, that beautiful Christmas Eve night when they’d first made love, when he’d taken Callie’s virginity, he’d thought their relationship might be different from all the rest. But he’d thrown away that precious connection—based on the insinuations of his rival!
“Brandon McLinn is in love with you,” he ground out. “I saw it in his face.”
“He must have been trying to protect me.”
“You may be blind to his true feelings. I am not.” His eyes narrowed. “You will never contact him again. Or your family.”
“What?” Callie’s mouth fell open. “What does my family have to do with anything?”
Eduardo couldn’t explain, or she would find out everything he’d been keeping from her—for her own good. “I am your husband. You will trust me and obey.”
“Obey?” Callie glared at him, folding her arms. “What century are you in? You might be my husband, but you are no longer my boss!”
“Am I not?” he said softly. He reached his hand to her cheek, stroking softly down her neck. She closed her eyes, and he felt her shudder beneath his touch. “I am trying to protect our family. I have my reasons. Believe me.”
But Callie stiffened, stepping back, out of his reach. “No.”
His eyes widened then his brows lowered. “No?”
“I want to be your wife, Eduardo. I do,” she whispered. “But I have to see my family. And Brandon.”
“I could take you to court. The prenuptial agreement—”
“So do it.” She looked at him evenly. “Take me to court.”
She was calling his bluff. He had no desire to sue his own wife, the mother of his baby. And now they both knew it. He exhaled, clenching his hands. “I will not allow you to—”
“It’s not a question of you allowing me. I’m telling you. I need a relationship with my family—including Brandon—and so does Marisol. I’m going home to visit my family. You can divorce me. But you can’t stop me.”
Checkmate, he thought, almost with despair.
He still couldn’t forget—or forgive—the way her parents had treated Callie when she’d called them just two hours after the birth, anxious to tell them about the baby. She’d had every reason to relax and get some rest, but instead she’d tried to share the joyous news with her mother and father. She’d been left sobbing with grief. The memory still made his jaw clench.
Eduardo had always dreamed of having a family of his own. A family that was kind and loving, not cruel or harsh as his own had been.
He wouldn’t let anyone make Callie cry like that. Ever.
Staring at her, a thought took hold of his brain. Morally reprehensible—but then, he thought grimly, he was already in so deep he might as well go a little further.
It was for her own good, he repeated to himself. For her own good, and the safety of their little family.
“Have you considered, querida,” he said in a low voice, “that perhaps they might not want to see you?”
Callie looked at him with stricken eyes. “What?”
It was cold, it was cruel, it was wrong. But he pushed aside his twinges of conscience. He had to be ruthless. “Has McLinn contacted you once in the last three months?” He tilted his head. “Has anyone in your family tried to call you back, even once?”
Her folded arms fell, and she looked uncertain. “No.” Swallowing, she blinked fast. “But I can’t blame them. I let them down.”
“No,” he said sharply. “You had a baby. You got married. And when you tried to share that news with them, they ripped you apart.”
She took a deep breath. “I know it might seem that way …”
“They were cruel to you.” He could still remember the rasp of