artefacts until he reached the furthest door at the end and opened it for her.
Sophie stepped inside and immediately sucked a breath in.
The room was beautiful.
‘I hope you don’t mind but we took the liberty of unpacking for you,’ Julio said. ‘If you are not happy with where your possessions have been put then we will put them where you think more suitable.’
She grinned, her sense of humour tickled at the butler’s gravity. ‘I’m sure wherever they’ve been put will be fine and if it’s not then I can move them myself.’
‘As you wish but please remember we are here to serve. Whatever you require, it is our job to provide it.’
Slowly she gazed around the fabulous room with its three high, wide windows overlooking Javier’s beautiful garden, the furthest revealing a glimpse of a swimming pool. She opened a door to find a bathroom bigger than her childhood bedroom, another that revealed a dressing room as large as the living room of the flat she had shared with Freya.
Everything was so soft and clean and feminine...
Narrowing her eyes, she stared harder and walked back into the bathroom.
There was not a single masculine product to be found.
As casually as she could manage, she turned her attention back to the butler, who now stood formally by the bedroom door. ‘Where’s Javier’s room?’
‘At the end of the west wing. Would you like me to show you around the rest of the house?’
It placed a great strain on all her facial muscles to pull a smile to her face but she managed it. ‘No, thank you, Julio. I’m sure you have work you need to be getting on with. I’m happy to explore on my own.’
‘If you are sure?’
‘I’m sure.’
After asking once again if she required anything and giving instructions on how to contact the staff for when she did, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
When she was alone, the smile on Sophie’s face dropped and she folded her arms protectively around her belly.
So much for them creating a real marriage. Javier had stuck her as far away from him as he could get her.
JAVIER SENSED SOPHIE’S presence the moment he stepped through the front door.
There was nothing of her in his eyeline, everything in the same spotless order it was always in, but he could feel her there nonetheless, as if she had arrived and imprinted herself on the walls. If he closed his eyes he could smell her perfume.
All day there had been a tight feeling of impending doom playing in his guts that had distracted his thoughts from the important meeting he’d been holding with his lawyer.
Separating his business interests from Luis’s was proving to be much harder than he’d anticipated, almost as hard as wrapping his head around the fact he would be sharing his home with the Englishwoman who carried his child.
In the two weeks since he’d seen her he’d carried on as normal. Apart from booking their wedding, that was.
He’d lodged all the necessary paperwork and arranged for the officiant to marry them here in his home. The ceremony itself would be short and without any fanfare.
In six days’ time he would be a married man.
Losing his single status meant nothing to him. He’d always known he would marry when he found the right woman to breed with and continue the Casillas line. Freya had been that right woman, not Sophie. Freya, who would have recoiled at a ‘proper’ marriage as much as he did.
Not the seemingly sweet, compassionate blonde woman who appeared to have a spine made of much sturdier stuff than he had initially credited her with.
He had never thought about Freya in his private time. Yet Sophie...
She was all he could think about, and as hard as he tried to push her from his thoughts, the harder she pushed back, those wide pale blue eyes staring straight into his whenever he closed his eyes.
She had refused to sign a contract that would have given her an abundance of money each month.
How could anyone be that selfless? It was not possible. Surely it had to be an act?
If it wasn’t, if Sophie really was as sweet and giving as she portrayed herself to be, then she would be fragile with it. Sweet things broke easily.
He did not want to break her but she had to understand that he could. The contract he’d wanted her to sign would have protected her as much as him. A person knew where they were with a contract. You signed it and abided by it, something Benjamin had failed to understand when he’d accused Javier and Luis of defrauding him. Benjamin had signed that contract. Javier could not be held responsible for his failure to read it.
Without a detailed contract to knit their marriage together, they would have to forge their own path. Sophie spoke of compromise but that was a meaningless word in itself if both parties looked at compromise with different markers.
He would not allow her to get close to him. Whether she liked it or not, their marriage would never be real in the sense she wanted it to mean.
He looked at his watch and decided to take a shower before dinner and give himself a few minutes of solitude before he had to face her. He would be undisturbed, his staff knowing not to seek him out. Julio ran his household with military precision. Everyone knew their job and did it well.
Treading heavily up the stairs, he loosened his tie from round his neck. He opened his bedroom door, went to step inside and came to an abrupt halt.
Sophie was sitting on the ottoman at the end of his bed, her hand frozen on a stocking she was halfway through rolling up her bare leg.
After a moment’s pause she turned to him and smiled. Only the stain of colour on her cheeks betrayed any nerves or fear she might have. ‘Good evening, Javier. Have you had a nice day?’
A swell of rage punched through him, which he did not bother to disguise. Propping himself against the doorway, he growled, ‘What are you doing in here?’
A small crease formed in her brow. ‘It’s moving-in day. You sent your private jet to collect me, remember?’
‘What are you doing in my bedroom?’ he clarified through gritted teeth.
The crease deepened. ‘Getting ready for dinner. As it’s our first night I thought I would make an effort.’ Then she smiled brightly. ‘I’m afraid there was a mistake and my stuff had been put in a room on the east wing. I could see how busy your staff were, so I moved it over myself. It didn’t take long. I found some empty space in your dressing room to put my clothes in; don’t worry, I didn’t touch any of your stuff. I’ll find space for my books and other bits and pieces tomorrow.’
He
