To Love, Honor and Betray (6 page)

His plump, gray-haired housekeeper, Mrs. McAuliffe, was waiting in the luxurious lobby. “The nursery is ready. Och, what a sweet babe!”

“Do you know how to hold a baby?” he demanded.

“Why, I’m insulted, Mr. Cruz! You know I raised four children of my own.”

“Here.” Gently he thrust the sleeping baby into her arms, watching anxiously. As the older woman cooed
softly in admiration, Eduardo turned and raced back outside.

The September sun was still hot, pouring golden light through the white clouds. His driver was reaching for his wife’s door when Eduardo stopped him. “I’ll do it, Sanchez.”

“Of course, sir.”

Eduardo looked down at Callie through the car window. Her head had fallen back, her beautiful face now leaning against the leather seat. Dark, long eyelashes fluttered against her pale skin. She looked so young. So tired.

As he lifted her into his arms, she stirred but did not wake. Her eyelashes fluttered and she murmured something in her sleep, nestling her cheek against his chest as her wavy light brown hair fell back on his shoulder.

She weighed next to nothing, he thought. Looking down at his wife, his heart gave a strange thump. While Sanchez drove the car to the underground garage, Eduardo carried Callie inside. He took his private elevator to the top floor.

He’d closed on this two-story penthouse a week ago as an investment. The penthouse had been languishing on the market for two years with a thirty-six-million-dollar price tag before he’d bought it for a steal, at the fire sale price of twenty-seven million. He hadn’t intended to live here for long. But now … his plans were rapidly changing.

“I’ll take the baby to the nursery, sir,” his housekeeper said softly when he came out of the elevator. He nodded then carried his wife across the large, two-story foyer with its Brazilian hardwood floor in a patterned mosaic. Going up the sweeping stairs, he started down the hall toward the guest room.

Then he stopped.

The master bedroom would be better for Callie in every way. It was larger, with a huge en suite bathroom and
a wall of windows overlooking the city and the Hudson River. Most importantly, it was adjacent to the study, which had been turned into the nursery. Shifting Callie’s weight in his arms, Eduardo turned back. Carrying her into his bedroom, he put her down on his king-size bed.
Sí
. It was better.

Callie shifted, murmuring in her sleep as she turned on his soft feather pillow with its thousand-thread-count Egyptian cotton pillowcase. Eduardo closed the heavy curtains around the windows, darkening the room. He covered her sleeping form with a blanket, then for a long moment, he looked down at her, listening to her steady, even breath.

He’d only meant their marriage to last three months. He hadn’t thought he could endure it for longer.

But in the forty-eight hours since the birth, his perspective had changed.

His daughter was small and innocent and oh, so fragile. Eduardo knew what it meant to feel like unwanted baggage, like a stray without a home. He wanted his daughter to feel safe and protected, not split between divorced parents, between two lives. He wanted her to have not just a name, but a real home. A real family.

And no matter what Eduardo thought of Callie, he knew she loved their baby. He’d seen it in the way she’d fought through the pain of childbirth with such bravery. In the way she’d sacrificed her own body, her own sleep and peace, in order to nurture and cherish their child. Even in the way she’d fought with him over her name.

Eduardo’s jaw set. If Callie could endure pain, so could he. He turned away. There would be no divorce. They both would sacrifice. He would give up his desire for a wife he could trust. She would give up her dreams of love. Love was an illusion, anyway.

Responsibility was not.

She might not like his plan. Eduardo exhaled, remembering her horrified reaction when he’d first proposed marriage. She wouldn’t accept a permanent union without a fight. So he would give her time to accept their loveless marriage. To appreciate what he could offer. To forget the people she’d left behind.

His hand tightened on the doorknob. He’d give her the agreed-upon three months to see the benefits of their marriage. And if, at the end, Callie still wanted her freedom?

He glanced back through the shadowy bedroom with narrowed eyes. Then he’d ruthlessly keep her prisoner, like a songbird in a gilded cage. Walking into the hallway, Eduardo shut the double doors behind him with quiet, ominous finality.

Now that Callie was his wife, he never intended to let her go.

C
ALLIE
sat up straight in bed.

Disoriented, she put her hands to her head, feeling dizzy and half-asleep as she looked around the strange, dark room. Where was she? How did she get in this bed? Her breasts were full and aching, and she was still dressed in the same long-sleeved T-shirt and knit pants she’d worn from the hospital. She had no memory of how she’d gotten here, but she’d thought she heard her baby crying….

Her baby! She sucked in her breath. Where was her baby?

“Soleil?” she whimpered. She jumped up from bed and screamed, “Soleil!”

Light flooded the room from the hallway as double doors opened. Suddenly Eduardo’s arms were around her.

“Where is she?” she cried in panic, struggling in his arms. She looked up at the hard lines of his face, half-hidden in shadows. “Where have you taken her?”

“She’s here.” Eduardo abruptly released her, crossing the bedroom to fling open a door. “Here!”

Her baby’s cries became louder. With a gasp, Callie ran through the door. As he turned on a lamp, she saw the bassinet. Sobbing with relief, she scooped her baby up into her arms.

The baby’s cries subsided the instant she was cradled
against her mother’s breast, but she was clearly hungry. Callie sat down in a soft glider near the lamp and started to pull up her T-shirt. She stopped, looking up awkwardly at Eduardo. “I need to feed her.”

His dark eyes shimmered in the dim lamplight. “Go ahead.”

“You’re watching.”

“I’ve seen your breasts before.”

She glared at him. “Turn around!”

He lifted an eyebrow then with a sigh he turned away.

Once he was safely facing the other direction, Callie lifted up her shirt, pulled down her nursing bra and got her baby latched on to her breast. She flinched at first then relaxed as her tiny daughter started gulping blissfully.

“Sounds like she was hungry.”

“Don’t listen!” Callie cried, annoyed.

He gave a low laugh. “Sorry.”

Moments passed in silence, and Callie took a deep breath, suddenly ashamed. “I’m sorry about earlier. I just panicked. I woke up in a strange place and didn’t know where I was.”

His spine stiffened, but he didn’t turn. “You fell asleep in the car, on the way home. I carried you upstairs. Don’t you remember?”

The last thing she recalled was arguing with him as they drove through Central Park. He’d been pressuring her about their baby’s name—as if Callie would ever name her sweet newborn after a spoiled Spanish heiress! But the soft hum of the engine had been hypnotic.

“I guess I was tired.” She rubbed her hand over her eyes. “I slept so hard that I almost thought you’d drugged me so you could steal the baby. Funny, right?”

His voice was cold. “Hilarious.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of …” Her throat constricted.

He turned to face her, but he definitely wasn’t looking at her breasts. “Of stealing the baby?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

His eyes glimmered in the dim light. “Don’t worry about it.”

He was being nice, which made her feel even worse. For months, she’d hated Eduardo, calling him a coldhearted jerk to her parents and friends, telling them stories about his worst flaws, telling herself he didn’t deserve to be a father.

But
she
was the coldhearted jerk. Her lips parted. If not for Sami’s meddling, she would have done the dreadful thing she’d just accused him of: she’d have stolen their baby. He never would have even known he had a daughter.

How could Eduardo stand to look at her?

“I was wrong not to tell you.” It took all her courage to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Forget it,” he said harshly. He folded his arms. “We both made mistakes. It’s in the past. Our marriage is a fresh start.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling like she didn’t deserve his generosity. Awkwardly she looked around them. The nursery was straight out of a celebrity magazine, with soft yellow walls, stuffed animals, and the sleek comfort of an expensive designer crib and bassinet. “This is nice.”

“I had my staff redecorate the study while we were at the hospital.”

“Your staff?”

“Mrs. McAuliffe.”

“I’ve always known I liked her,” Callie said with a
smile, trying to lighten the mood. “So next door is the guest room?”

He shook his head. “It’s the master bedroom.”

Her heart plummeted. “I … I was sleeping in your bed?”

“
Sí
.”

“Oh.” She swallowed and tried to pretend it was no big deal that she’d slept sprawled across the same bed where Eduardo Cruz slept naked every night, when he wasn’t entertaining lingerie models. Feeling self-conscious, she moved her baby to the other breast, quickly covering up any flash of skin with her cotton shirt. Cheeks flaming, she glanced up at Eduardo, but thank heaven, he was carefully looking away. “Well, thanks,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “I’ll move to the guest room later.”

“You will stay in the master bedroom,” he said evenly, “close to our baby.”

“Then where would you sleep?” A sudden dreadful thought struck her. “You surely can’t think you and I will—”

He cut her off. “I will take the guest room.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“You won’t.” Coming forward, he touched the infant’s soft, downy head. “I want you to be here. Both of you.”

Looking up at him, she breathed, “You—you do?”

“Of course I do.” Eduardo looked at her, and his dark eyes cut straight through her heart. “I’ve dreamed of having a family like this. Of keeping them safe and warm. Protecting them.” He squared his shoulders. “And I will.”

The cold, ruthless edges of his expression had melted away, changing to something warm, something fiercely tender. He looked like another man, she thought in wonder. The man he might have been if his childhood had been less of a tragedy.

Compassion mixed with longing and the echoes of her love, rising in her heart. But she couldn’t let it win. She
wouldn’t. She took a deep breath. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.” With a trembling smile, she looked down at the baby falling asleep in her arms. “And Soleil.”

“Marisol,” he said abruptly.

She blinked. “What?”

“Marisol. It’s a classic Spanish name. A blend of your favorite name—Soleil—and my aunt’s name. María.”

Callie licked her lips. “Marisol,” she tried. She didn’t hate it. She tried again, “Marisol … Cruz.”

“Marisol Samantha Cruz,” he said softly.

She looked up, her eyes wide with shock. “After my sister?”

“She brought our family together.”

“Sami betrayed me!”

“She’s family. You will forgive her.” He looked down at her. “We both know you will.”

Callie stared at him in consternation. No. No way! She’d never forgive her sister for going behind her back and telling Eduardo about the baby—never!

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.