write you one up, just in case.’ The doctor took out her prescription pad and Emelia told her the brand name and dose.
Within another minute or two the doctor was being seen out and Javier came back in. ‘How are you feeling now? Headache still bad?’
‘The doctor gave me an injection,’ she said. ‘It’s starting to work. I’m already feeling a bit sleepy.’
He stroked a hand over her forehead. ‘I’ll bring something for you to drink. Do you fancy anything to eat?’
Emelia winced at the thought of food. ‘No. Please, no food.’
His hand lingered for a moment on her cheek before he left her, closing the door so softly Emelia hardly heard it as her eyelids fluttered down over her eyes…
When she woke it was well into the evening. She gingerly got out of bed and dragged herself into the shower. As she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel, the bedroom door opened and Javier came in.
‘Feeling better?’ he asked.
‘A lot.’ Emelia tried to smile but it didn’t quite work. ‘Thank you.’
‘Do you feel up to having some dinner?’ he asked. ‘Aldana’s prepared something for us.’
‘I’ll just get dressed,’ she said, feeling shy, as if she was on her first date with him.
She could see he was trying hard to put her at ease. He had been so gentle earlier, so concerned for her welfare she wondered if he loved her just a tiny bit after all. She chided herself for dreaming of what he couldn’t or wouldn’t give. As much as she loved him, she couldn’t afford to waste any more of her life waiting for him to change. If he didn’t want the same things in life she did, then she would have to have the courage to move on without him, for his sake as well as her own. She hated to think of never seeing his face again or, worse, imagining him with some other woman. How would she endure it?
‘Take your time,’ he said, gently flicking her cheek with the end of his finger. ‘I have some business proposals to read through.’
She touched her face when he left, wishing for the moon that was so far out of reach it was heartbreaking.
Javier came back to find Emelia dressed in a simple black dress that skimmed her slim form, highlighting the gentle swell of her breasts and the long trim legs encased—unusually for her—in ballet flats. Her hair had been blow-dried but, rather than styling it, she had pulled it back into a simple ponytail. She had the barest minimum of make-up on, just a brush of mascara which intensified the grey-blue of her eyes, and a pink shade of lip gloss which drew attention to her soft full mouth with its rounded upper lip. He felt the heat of arousal surge into his groin as he remembered how that mouth felt around him. She was the most naturally sensual woman he had ever met and yet at times, especially right now, he seriously wondered if she was aware of it.
‘You are looking very beautiful this evening, querida,’ he said.
She smoothed her hands down over the flatness of her stomach as if she was conscious of the close-fitting nature of the dress. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured and shifted her gaze from his to pick up a light wrap she had laid on the end of the bed.
He escorted her down the stairs, holding her hand in his, noting how her fingers trembled slightly as they approached the formal dining room.
Aldana brought in the meal and Javier watched as Emelia kept her gaze down, as if she was frightened of saying or doing the wrong thing. He was the first to recognise that Aldana was a difficult person, but she was dependent on the income he gave her after her husband had gambled away everything they had owned. Javier didn’t want to dispense with her services just because of a personality clash with his wife, but he could see Emelia was on edge and he had cause to wonder if things were worse when he wasn’t around to keep an eye on things.
After watching Emelia pick at her food for several minutes, he dabbed his napkin at the edges of his mouth and laid it back over his lap. ‘Emelia,’ he said, ‘I know, like many women, you are keen to keep slim, but I have never agreed with you starving yourself. In my opinion, you were perfectly fine the way you were when I first met you. There is no need to deny yourself what you want. Your health is much more important.’
She looked up at him with a sheepish expression. ‘I haven’t been to the gym once since I’ve been home. I can’t believe I did it before. Izabella said I was obsessive about it. I normally have no self-discipline. I much prefer incidental exercise, like walking or swimming.’
‘And sex?’ he asked with a teasing smile.
Her face coloured and she lowered her gaze to her plate. ‘Is that all you think about?’ she asked in a tight little voice.
‘It’s what we both used to think about,’ he said. ‘You are the most sensually aware woman I have ever been with.’
Her grey-blue eyes flashed back to his. ‘And I bet there have been hundreds.’
He took a moment to respond. ‘You knew about my lifestyle when we met. I have made it no secret that I lived a fast-paced life.’
‘Which is no doubt why you wanted a shallow smokescreen marriage to impress your business contacts,’ she put in. ‘I can’t believe I agreed to it. I never wanted to turn out like my poor mother, preening herself constantly in case her wayward husband strayed to someone slimmer or better looking or better groomed or better dressed.’
Javier frowned at the sudden vehemence of her words. Her face was pinched and her mouth tight and her shoulders tense. Without her veneer of sophistication, she looked young and vulnerable, and yet she looked far more beautiful than he had ever seen her. ‘I didn’t realise you felt like that,’ he said after a little pause. ‘You always seemed so confident. I didn’t know you felt so unsure of yourself.’
Her throat moved up and down, as if she regretted revealing her insecurities to him. ‘I haven’t been honest with you,’ she said. ‘I mean right from the start. I should have told you but I was frightened you would walk away, that I would appear too needy or something. I guess back then I wanted you on any terms. I was prepared to suspend everything I wanted in life to be with you.’
He reached out a hand and picked up one of hers, entwining his fingers with her soft trembling ones. ‘I don’t want to lose you, querida,’ he said. ‘But I can only give you what I can give you. It might not be enough.’
She pressed her lips together, he assumed to stop herself from crying, but even so her eyes moistened. ‘I want to be loved, Javier,’ she said softly. ‘I want to be loved the way my mother craved to be loved but never got to be loved. I want to wake up each morning knowing the man I love is right there by my side, supporting me, loving me, cherishing me.’ She drew in an uneven breath and added in an even softer voice, ‘And I want a baby.’
Javier felt a shockwave go through his chest. He recalled his lonely childhood: the ache of sudden loss, the devastation of being cast aside by his father after his mother had died. He could not face the responsibility of being a parent. He would mess it up, for sure. Even people from secure backgrounds occasionally ran into trouble with their kids. What chance would he have? He would end up ruining a child’s potential, crippling them emotionally, stunting their development or making them hate him as much as he had ended up hating his own father for his inadequacies.
