To Love, Honour and Betray Page 6
And yet …
How could she be angry at Sami for betraying her, when telling Eduardo the truth had been the right thing to do? Even if Sami’s motives hadn’t been totally pure. A tremble went through Callie. Even if her sister’s motivation had only been because she was in love with Brandon.
Sami was in love with Brandon. Callie had to face it. For years, she’d seen the way Sami hung on Brandon’s every word, but she’d told herself it couldn’t possibly be serious. Her sister had a crush. Puppy love. Callie hadn’t seen the truth. She doubted Brandon did, either. They’d never noticed Sami’s devoted, anguished love, right in front of their very eyes.
But Brandon deserved to be loved like that, as every husband wanted to be loved by his wife. Callie had been selfish to accept his proposal, to think, even for an instant, that friendship would be enough for a marriage. How could she have even thought of allowing him to make that sacrifice? A sob escaped her throat. She’d very nearly ruined so many lives.
Looking down, Eduardo put his hand gently on her shoulder.
“I’ve heard you talk about your little sister for years,” he said quietly. “You send her gifts, write her letters. You’re putting her through college. We both know you’re going to forgive her.”
Callie looked up at him, blinking back tears. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I was so angry at her. But she didn’t do anything wrong.” She closed her eyes. “It was all me.”
Silence fell. When she opened her eyes, Eduardo’s forehead was furrowed, as if he couldn’t understand her. Their eyes met, and she felt that strange tugging at her heart. With an intake of breath, she turned away. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Her middle name can be Samantha.” Callie touched her baby’s plump, soft cheek. “Marisol Samantha Cruz.”
“I don’t believe it.” A ghost of a smile lifted the corners of Eduardo’s lips. “Are we in agreement? I can fill out the birth certificate?”
Looking up at him, she smiled back. “Yup.”
“Wonders never cease.” For a long moment, their eyes met in the soft light of the nursery, with their baby slumbering between them. Then clearing his throat, he glanced at his platinum watch. “It’s nearly ten. You must be starving.”
“Not really …” As if on cue, her stomach growled. “I guess I am.”
“I’ll make you something.”
“You? You’ll cook?” she said faintly.
She must have sounded dubious, because Eduardo smiled. “I am not completely helpless.”
“You must have changed a lot in the last nine months. The man I knew could barely find his own kitchen.” She shook her head with a snort. “I’m amazed you even survived without me.”
He looked at her.
“It wasn’t easy,” he said gruffly. Turning, he paused at the door. “Come down when you are ready.”
Callie stared at the empty doorway, bewildered at this friendlier mood between them. Looking down at her sleeping newborn, she rocked back and forth in the soft cushioned glider, cuddling her close. She gazed in wonder at her downy dark hair. Her daughter had Callie’s snub little nose and round face, with her father’s dark coloring and olive-colored skin. She would be a beauty. How could she not be, with such a father?
In all the years Callie worked for Eduardo, she’d never once seen him put someone else’s comfort above his own. But in the last two days, he’d asked her to marry him. He’d slept in a chair for two nights at the hospital. He’d brought her to his home. Turned his study into a nursery. He’d given Callie his bed while he himself was relegated to the guest room down the hall. He’d asked her to teach him how to swaddle their baby and change her tiny, doll-size diapers. Coldhearted billionaire tycoon Eduardo Cruz, changing a baby’s diaper? That was something she’d never imagined in a million years!
It won’t last, Callie told herself fiercely. When the novelty wore off, Eduardo would chafe at the responsibility and intimacy of family. He would crave the freedom of sixteen-hour workdays and endless one-night stands. He would return to the selfish, cold playboy he was at heart. Very soon—likely before the three months was even up—
he would divorce Callie, and be relieved to make his parental support of Marisol the distant, financial kind.
Once that happened, Callie and her baby would go back to North Dakota. To her family. To the people who loved her.
Or did they?
She swallowed. Her phone call to her family, just hours after the birth when she was still exhausted and in pain, had officially been a disaster. Callie tried to explain that she’d just had a baby and gotten married to a man they didn’t know except by reputation, and planned to live in New York for the foreseeable future. Her mother had just sobbed as if her heart was breaking. As for her father …
Her shoulders tightened. Her father never reacted well when his wife was crying. But he’d never spoken to Callie like that before—as if she were such a disappointment he didn’t even want to call her his daughter. As if he yearned to disown her.
An ache filled her throat. She’d never planned to get pregnant, but keeping her baby a secret had just made it a million times worse. And that phone call had changed something between them. She felt estranged from her family, and it was like half her heart was missing.
But she also felt angry. How could her family have turned on her like this? They were supposed to love her. Why couldn’t they see her side?
And her father had been so harsh to Eduardo. Callie still didn’t know exactly what he’d said. She just remembered how Eduardo’s expression had changed when they were talking on the phone, from conciliation to cold fury.
Walter Woodville had never liked the way Cruz Oil had swept into their town, bulldozing through the county with money and influence, luring young people from family farms with the promise of high-paying jobs. But Callie had made that initial dislike worse. Her cheeks burned as she recalled her bitter words about Eduardo after he’d fired her. Was it any wonder that stalwart, old-fashioned Walter, who’d married his high school sweetheart and still farmed land once owned by his grandfather, had been horrified by the idea of such a man knocking up his daughter, and worse—marrying her?
And as for Brandon …
Her cheeks reddened further with shame and regret. Brandon was certainly back in North Dakota by now, after driving across the country alone. She wondered what he’d told her parents. What he felt inside. Was he worried about her? Was he angry? Or worse—brokenhearted?
Amazing to think he was willing to marry you while you were pregnant by another man. He must be insanely in love with you.
Callie shook Eduardo’s words away. Brandon wasn’t in love with her. Friends just tried to help each other. But no—that was a cop-out. She swallowed. He’d been kind, and she’d taken advantage. She needed to call him and beg for forgiveness.
Another person she’d hurt. She slowly rose to her feet, her body sore, her legs shaking with exhaustion. As she tucked her sleeping daughter into the bassinet, she suddenly remembered the tender light in Eduardo’s dark eyes when he’d held Marisol for the first time. Remembered how he’d dozed on a chair in their hospital room, cuddling their daughter against his naked chest so the baby could feel the warmth and comfort of skin on skin. Strange. In this moment, she felt closer to Eduardo than anyone else. Eduardo.
Creeping softly out of the nursery, she went to the bedroom, where she found the suitcase of new clothes his staff had brought to the hospital. Opening it on the enormous bed, she selected a pink cashmere lounge set and sighed. It probably cost the equivalent of a week’s salary. But the cashmere felt soft.
Taking a hot shower in the marble en suite bathroom was pure heaven. After combing her wet hair, Callie put on the soft cashmere set over a white cotton t-shirt and went downstairs.
It wasn’t just a penthouse, she thought in amazement. It was a mansion in the sky. She went down the sweeping stairs to the great room, with a fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows that
showed the sparkling lights of New York City by night.
“What do you think?”
She jumped and turned. Eduardo walked toward her with two martini glasses. He was wearing dark jeans and a black T-shirt that showed off his exquisitely muscled body. “It’s incredible,” she breathed. “Like nothing else I’ve seen.”
“Good.” He gave her a slow-rising smile. “I’m glad you like it, since it’s yours.” She blushed, but still couldn’t look away from his powerful body, or the masculine beauty of his face. Hers. If only that were true!
He held out an orange-filled martini glass. “Here.”
“I can’t drink while I’m nursing.”
He held up his own drink, a clear martini with an olive. “This is mine.” He pushed the orange-colored drink into her hand. “This is juice.”
“Oh. Thanks,” she said, suddenly realizing she was dying of thirst. She drank it all in one swallow, then wiped her mouth and realized she was hungry, too. “Something smells delicious from the kitchen,” she said hopefully, setting down her glass.
Eduardo was staring at her. “I made quesadillas and rice.”
“Great!”
“You might not like them.” He smiled again, but for the first time she noticed that his smile didn’t reach his eyes. His hand was gripping the stem of his martini glass, his shoulders tense. “Like you said, I’m helpless in the kitchen. Not like some men, who are undoubtedly born chefs.”
Callie frowned, puzzled at his sudden change in mood. “Is something wrong?”
He showed his teeth in something like a smile. “Not a thing.”
“You just seem—strange.”
“I’m fine. Shall we have dinner?”
“Sure,” she said reluctantly. Maybe she was so tired she was starting to imagine things. Or maybe it was her guilt talking. With a sigh, she looked around. “Have you seen my purse? I just need to make a quick call.”
“Your family?”
“No,” she said, irritated at the suggestion. “I called them from the hospital and look where it got me. No. Brandon.” Eduardo’s dark eyes flashed in the shadowy room. “No.”
“He must be back in Fern by now. I’m sure he’s worried about me, and I’m worried about him—”
“He’s fine,” Eduardo said coolly. He finished off his martini and placed the empty glass on the marble mantel. “I just spoke with him.”
She stared at him. “You did?”
“He’d been calling for hours. I got sick of the phone ringing. Ten minutes ago, I answered the phone and told him to stop.”
“What did he say?”
“An earful,” he said grimly. He set his jaw. “What exactly did you tell him about me?”
Her cheeks grew hot. “I was angry after you fired me. I might have called you a world-class jerk.”
“A jerk?”
“And a workaholic with no heart, who lures a new woman into bed each night, only to put her out with the trash each morning,” she whispered. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”
Eduardo gave her a hard smile. “You just told him the truth.” Reaching for his empty martini glass, he pulled the olive off the toothpick with his white teeth and slowly chewed. “I am all of those things. Just as you are secretive, naive and ridiculously sentimental.”
Protestations rose to Callie’s lips then faded. After the way she’d acted, how could she argue with that—any of it?
He came closer, his face silhouetted by the huge windows that sparkled with the lights of the city. “But we must endure it.”
“Endure it?” she whispered.
“Each other,” he said coldly. “For Marisol’s sake.”
Pain cracked through her heart. Just a moment before, she’d been filled with hope. But now she saw she really was alone. No one was on her side. No one.
Stiffening, she held out her hand. “Give me my phone.”
“No.”
“Fine,” she bit out. “I’ll find it myself.”
Moving through the swinging door, she went into a large, luxurious kitchen, with top-of-the-line appliances, a wine fridge, and a pizza oven, overlooking the sparkle of the city and black void of the Hudson River. Her eyes widened as she saw her bag on a granite countertop. She snatched it up, digging all the way to the bottom.
“It’s not in there,” Eduardo said, watching her.
Still digging, she didn’t bother to look up. “Where is it?”
“I threw it away.”
Her hand stilled. “Are you kidding me?”
His voice was like ice. “I won’t let you call him.”
“You can’t stop me!” Her eyes were wide as she gasped with outraged fury. “You had no right!”
“I’m your husband. I had every right.”
“I’ll get a new phone!”
His black eyes glittered. “Try it.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m not your prisoner!”
“For as long as we are married, I expect your loyalty.”
“He’s my best friend!”
“And you are my wife.”
“You can’t possibly feel threatened by—”
“No, why would I?” His voice was low and full of dislike. “Just because he is the man you adore, the man you trust, the man you wanted to be Marisol’s father. The man you tried to marry two days ago.”
“Only because I was pregnant—”
“You were engaged years ago, Callie,” he snapped. “Before I even met you!”
Her mouth fell open. “What?”
Eduardo leaned his hand on the kitchen countertop. “Last Christmas Eve, when we made love,” he ground out, “I couldn’t sleep with you in my bed—”
“So why didn’t you kick me out?”
He ground his teeth. “I went for a walk. I decided to stop at your apartment to collect a few of your things. I was going to ask you to stay. I never expected to find a man living there with you.”
“You—what?”
His jaw was hard as he shook his head. “After our years together, I’d actually thought I could trust you. But just hours after you gave me your virginity, I met your live-in love. Your longtime fiancé.”
She gaped at him.
“What, no witty comeback?” he jibed.
“Brandon wasn’t my fiancé. Not back then!”
His eyes grew wild. “Stop it, damn you! Will you never stop lying? I met him!”
“But we only got engaged a few weeks ago!”
Eduardo folded his arms, his expression as hard as the wooden floors. “Then how do you explain it? Either you are lying, or he was. Which is it?”
She licked her lips. “Brandon wouldn’t lie,” she said weakly. “Unless—” She covered her mouth with her hand.
If we’re not married by thirty—Brandon had taken her hands in his own—let’s marry each other.
Sure, she’d laughed. On the night of their senior prom, thirty had seemed a million miles away. Why not?
She’d thought it was a joke. But could Brandon have taken it seriously? Could that be why, the day after Eduardo had gotten her an apartment, Brandon had suddenly shown up in New York with no job and a suitcase full of jeans? Because he’d heard in Callie’s voice that she was falling completely in love with her boss, and wanted to protect his territory?
No. It couldn’t be. Brandon loved her as a friend. Just a friend!
She glared at Eduardo. “Either you misunderstood him, or Brandon was trying to warn you off. To protect me from a sleazy boss.”
“Sleazy?” he gasped.
She folded her arms. “But there’s never been anything romantic between Brandon and me. Let me call him and prove it!”
“He’s in love with you.” His eyes were like ice. “You’re either lying, or blind. But I won’t be played for a fool ever again. You will not communicate with McLinn in any way. Not by phone, by computer or via carrier pigeon. And not through your parents. Do you understand?”
Callie couldn’
t believe he was being so unreasonable. Tears rose to her eyes. “But I just left him there,” she whispered. “Standing in the street on our wedding day. He deserves an explanation!”
“He saw you leave with me. That is all the explanation he needs. And if not …” He allowed himself a cold smile. “I just told him everything he needs to know.”
A chill went down her spine. “What did you say to him?”
Turning away, he scooped up quesadillas and rice on a plate and shoved it toward her on the countertop. “It’s simple. Contact him during our marriage, just once, and you are in breach of our agreement.”
“Fine, I’ll be in breach! Keep your stupid alimony. I don’t care about your money!”
“Do you care about custody?”
She sucked in her breath. “What?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “It seems you did not read our prenuptial agreement very carefully before you signed it.”
She struggled to remember the words of the prenup, but the truth was she’d barely skimmed the first pages. “I was in labor! In pain, under duress! Whatever I may have signed, it will never stand up in court!”
He gave her grim smile. “Shall we find out?”
Callie couldn’t believe he could be so heartless. No, on second thought, she could. What she couldn’t believe was her own stupidity—in believing it was possible for Eduardo Cruz to be anything but heartless! Blinking back tears, she tried to keep her voice from trembling. “Just let me talk to him once. You can listen on the other line. I just need to tell him I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes. “When I think of what I did to him …”
“Yes, I can only imagine how badly you feel,” Eduardo said sardonically. “Knowing you caused him pain by flinging yourself enthusiastically into bed with me and conceiving my child instead of his. A pity raising Marisol is now a responsibility more important than the romantic longings of your heart!”
His sardonic tone tore at her soul like nails on a chalkboard. “Why do you even care?” she spat out. “Our marriage will be over in months. For that matter, why did you even marry me? Why make such a song and dance about giving our child a name and a father and a home, when we both know you’ll never last for long?”
His hand tightened into a fist on the counter. “What are you talking about?”