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He would take things back a bit, he’d determined. They’d skipped a lot of steps in the process she’d probably spent her whole life looking forward to. He’d met her parents, had been charmed by them, had seen them for the traditional sort who truly believed in the power of love. He didn’t get it, but what hedidget was the power of sex and that was something they had had in abundance.
So she had given him the cold shoulder when he’d suggested they continue. Maybe she’d had big dreams of walking off into a rosy sunset arm in arm with some guy who probably didn’t exist, whom she might or might not meet one fine day and to whom she would give her heart.
But they were here now and something about her alarm at sharing the bed with him the night before had nudged something inside him. Was she as indifferent to him as she wanted to be? Or was there still the same simmering attraction inside her that, if enticed, would blow hot and fierce as it had done before?
She might not welcome a reaction that didn’t suit her ideals but if they were to be married...? Then the world turned on its axis, didn’t it?
Thoughts of seduction, let loose from the cage in which they had been confined, roared out with the power of a sudden burning conflagration.
Seduction rarely involved the prosaic. They had done prosaic, insofar as prosaic could exist in their current situation.
‘Once we’re married, whatever the timeline, the pregnancy will be further along,’ he murmured. ‘You might even find it difficult to travel anywhere...’
‘Travel anywhere?’ Celia looked at him with open bewilderment. ‘I know my car is small,’ she said, ‘but, actually, Iwillstill be able to get around in it! Even if I grow to the size of a barrage balloon, I can just push the seat back a bit and travelling isn’t going to be some kind of dicing-with-misfortune experience, Leandro. I’m not going to be an invalid just because I’m having a baby!’
‘What’s the state of your passport?’ he mused, by way of response, and Celia frowned.
‘I have one. Why do you ask?’
‘I may be realistic,’ he responded wryly, ‘when it comes to finding solutions to problems, but I’m not completely without finesse. Most married couples go on honeymoon.’
‘We’re not most married couples.’
‘In the eyes of your parents, we are, wouldn’t you agree?’ He waited a heartbeat knowing that there was no argument she could use against that. ‘They would hardly expect us to get married, as the loved-up couple they believe us to be, for me to promptly return to work without even paying lip service to my new bride...’
There were so many words in that sentence that were at odds with what actually existed between them that Celia’s head was in a whirl and yet, treacherously, she clung to those words with the desperation of a complete idiot.Loved-up couple...new bride...a honeymoon befitting those things...
He was only stating the obvious, wasn’t he?
Theyhadput on a united front. They had come as the bearer of glad tidings and her parents had not doubted otherwise. Many times, Leandro’s arm had rested across her shoulders...around her waist...his fingers lightly feathering her wrist...his thigh brushing hers as they had sat together on the sofa in the sitting room.
She had been unbearablyawareof each and every one of those little intimate gestures because she was so unbearably aware ofhim. Her parents, of course, would have been equally aware of each and every one of those gestures. Her mother was eagle-eyed when it came to things like that.
Celia was sure that her mum would be nursing some disappointment about the size of the wedding. She would have wanted planning and hats and showing off her daughter to all her friends in the village. But she hadn’t said a word. However, if there were to be no honeymoon and nothing at all to mark the event as something joyous and to be celebrated, then how would she feel?
Would a pretence of a honeymoon be necessary?
‘I suppose we could pretend to do something.’ She frowned, staring off into the distance, and Leandro did his best not to grit his teeth in pure frustration.
Was there a woman as challenging as the one now chewing her lip and staring off as though waiting for divine inspiration? Was it utterly arrogant and egotistic of him to think that there were very few women who wouldn’t have leapt at everything he had offered instead? The ring? And all the benefits that came with that? Which, quite frankly, were more than generous?
‘We could. What,’ he asked with an edge of genuine curiosity, ‘did you have in mind?’
‘Well, we could hide out at your place...’
Leandro burst out laughing and, when he’d sobered up, he gazed at her with amusement. ‘When this breaks, there’ll be some press coverage. I’m a billionaire. I’m not saying the paparazzi are going to be stalking us in the hope of a juicy story, but I’m well enough known in financial and society circles for some interest. If they discover that we’ve put it about that we’re heading off to exotic climes on a pre-baby-being-born honeymoon only to discover that we’re both lurking under the bed at my London place, then I can’t think what will be made of that.’
‘Exotic climes?’
Leandro shrugged. ‘The world is full of some exceptionally lovely outposts.’
‘So you’re thinking we actually go somewhere.’
‘Leave it to me. I’ll sort everything out.’ He grinned. ‘And you can relax. You’re pregnant. Pregnant women are supposed to take it easy. I’ll make sure you don’t have a minute’s stress.’
Celia gaped and blinked. Was he kidding? A honeymoon with this guy so that they couldget to know one anotherand he was guaranteeing her a stress-free experience? What planet was he on?
But of course she knew.
He wanted to make sure they entered this new arrangement as friends, and friends surely didn’t stress about spending time in one another’s company. Did they?
Except for her...
When she thought about being away with him, she felt faint, but he was already rising to his feet, getting ready to start the day, and she knew, with a sinking heart, that what he wanted he was going to get.
