Cinderella's Christmas Secret (Mills & Boon Modern) Read online

  ‘That was always a possibility.’

  ‘Even though you’re proving to be so arrogant and unlikeable?’

  He shrugged. ‘You were an innocent. A virgin. Sometimes a woman’s first experience of sex can warp her judgement, particularly if it was as good as yours was. I’d warned you what kind of man I was but I wasn’t sure whether you wanted to believe it. But all that is irrelevant now.’

  He realised she was looking at him and the reproach on her flushed face suggested she had been hurt by his condemnatory assessment of their night together. But he wasn’t going to tell lies in order to spare her feelings. She needed to know the truth, because surely that would limit the painful repercussions of a situation he had been so determined not to create during his own lifetime. The legacy of his upbringing was bitter enough to taint him for ever and he didn’t want to feel trapped. Not ever again.

  ‘I’ve never wanted marriage or children,’ he bit out. ‘And while the first is within my power to control, the second is clearly not.’

  ‘But I’m not asking you for anything!’ she declared furiously, her fists still clenched and looking as if she would like to use them to punch him. ‘I can manage perfectly well on my own.’

  He glanced around the small room. At the hand-knitted blanket on the battered sofa. At tired-looking walls, which even the rainbow glow from the fairy lights on the Christmas tree couldn’t quite disguise. He remembered the narrow bed in the cold bedroom upstairs, where he had torn the clothes from his body with the eagerness of a boy who had never had sex before. And the speed with which he had made his escape the following morning, issuing a terse directive to his chauffeur to get him the hell out of there when the car had arrived.

  And all he could think was—what had he done?

  ‘What, here?’ he demanded. ‘You think you can bring up this baby here, in a place like this?’

  ‘Of course I can! It may not be grand and I may not have a lot of spare cash, but I will manage. I don’t know how, but I will. I’m not deluding myself that it’s going to be easy, but I’m not afraid of hard work. It won’t hurt me to scrimp and save and go without—but there’s one thing my baby will never go short of, and that’s love!’

  An expression of such fierce protectiveness came over her face, that Maximo found himself unexpectedly humbled by her fervour, until he reminded himself that words were cheap. ‘Very admirable,’ he drawled.

  ‘I’m not seeking your approval.’ Angrily, she shook her head. ‘In fact, I don’t want anything from you, Maximo Diaz. Because I don’t need you! Do you understand?’

  But he shook his head, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘I am not dishonourable enough to desert you in your time of need, just as long as your expectations don’t exceed what I am prepared to offer you,’ he bit out, withdrawing his wallet from his inside pocket and extracting a business card. He slapped the card down beside the Christmas tree with more force than he had intended, causing the flimsy baubles to jangle before striding towards the front door, barely able to contain the anger which was simmering up inside him.

  He pulled open the door. ‘You can telephone my office and they will give you contact details of my lawyer, who will fine-tune all the necessary arrangements,’ he concluded icily. ‘You will have the necessary funds to employ nannies, chauffeurs, cleaners—whatever it is you think you might need to make your life easier once you have a child. But there is one thing you’re never going to get, Hollie—at least, not from me—and that’s a father for your baby.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘HOLLIE, ARE YOU even listening to what I’m saying?’

  Hollie swallowed. No, of course she wasn’t listening—not properly, anyway. She hadn’t been fully concentrating on Janette’s words, just as she hadn’t been concentrating on anything lately. Not the news, nor office views, or even the fact that it was Christmas tomorrow. The only thing which was eating up her mind was the terrible showdown she’d had with Maximo a couple of days ago, when she had told him she was expecting his baby and he had reacted with...

  Anger?

  Disbelief?

  Yes, both those things—and more besides. He had been icy with her, and distant. He had seemed to go out of his way to push her away and to view her with coldly dispassionate eyes. Nobody would ever have guessed they’d been lovers. Although, if you didn’t even get to share a whole night with a man—did that actually count as being a lover?

  That had been bad enough but worse was to follow because when she’d arrived at work the next morning, Janette had asked could she make a cake for Maximo, to celebrate his completion on the purchase of the castle. It had been the last thing on earth Hollie had felt like doing, but what excuse could she possibly use for declining?

  I’m terribly sorry, Janette, but I’m pregnant with Maximo’s baby and he’s being so unreasonable that I’d be tempted to tip a dollop of arsenic into the mix.

  No, she had nodded her head submissively, even though her heart had wrenched with bitterness and shame. And as she had beaten the eggs and measured out the sugar, she had been unable to flush the image of Maximo’s angry face from her mind and to wonder where they went from here. She still had the business card he’d given her, just before he’d made his arrogant assertion that she should contact his lawyers.

  He had cold-bloodedly stated that his money would enable her to employ a whole stable of staff, and had ended the conversation by announcing that he had no intention of being a father to his child. Well, that suited her just fine. Did he really imagine she, or her baby, wanted anything to do with a man who hadn’t bothered to hide his dismay when she’d told him her momentous news?

  But surely the most important thing right now was to hang onto her job, at a time when she had never needed work more badly. Which was why she looked up at her boss and forced a weak smile. ‘What were you saying, Janette?’ she asked.

  ‘I was congratulating you on your cake, Hollie, which is absolutely lovely—though I have to say that it’s not quite up to your usual standard.’

  Hollie nodded. Of course it wasn’t. It was unfortunate that a huge salt tear had plopped onto the finished product at the very last minute and Hollie’s subsequent attempts at repair work only seemed to have made it worse.

  ‘I know it’s not that good,’ she said.

  ‘It can’t be helped.’ Janette’s words were brisk. ‘I’m sure he won’t notice. It’s the thought that counts, and this will make him realise that our agency is always prepared to go the extra mile—just in case he’s thinking of buying any more local property in the area. Just make sure you deliver it today, can you, dear?’

  ‘D-deliver it?’ Hollie could see from Janette’s expression that she hadn’t quite managed to hide the horror in her voice. ‘You mean deliver the cake? To...to Maximo?’

  ‘To Señor Diaz,’ Janette corrected, frosting her a severe look. ‘Since when did you start using first names with clients, Hollie? Of course, I mean you! I thought you’d be delighted to comply after the way you monopolised him at the party. And who else is going to do it?’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Most people are very busy this close to Christmas, but at least you haven’t got any family. I’d do it myself except that I have a date through that new site—Flirty at Fifty. I mean, it sounds almost too good to be true, but, still...’ Janette’s steely-eyed look couldn’t quite disguise the unmistakable glint of hope which lurked in her heavily made-up eyes. She shrugged. ‘Mustn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. Just make sure the cake arrives at the castle this afternoon, will you? There are a few more papers he needs to sign at the same time. But you’d better get a move on.’ She shot a quick glance out of the agency’s big glass windows. ‘I don’t like the look of those clouds and they’re forecasting snow over the holidays. Dave can drop you at the bottom of the lane on the way to his four o’clock appointment and you can easily walk back.
’

  Behind her frozen smile, Hollie felt as if she were in pieces, chewed up by a growing feeling of dread at the thought of seeing Maximo again. Their last meeting had been bad enough. The awkwardness and embarrassment of facing the reluctant father of her baby was an episode she wasn’t eager to repeat. But without having to explain why she didn’t want to go—and just imagine Janette’s reaction if she did that—common sense told her that refusal simply wasn’t an option.

  Common sense.

  How ironic that something she had relied on all her life had deserted her when she needed it most. If she’d been sensible she wouldn’t have fallen into bed with him—seduced by a lazy smile and a hard body, and a smooth line in seduction.

  She glanced out of the window, where the main street was bustling with last-minute shoppers, and as she looked up at the sky she could see that Janette hadn’t been exaggerating. The heavy pewter clouds looked bloated and full and there was a strange saffron light radiating downwards, making the seasonal colours in the shop windows even more vivid than usual.

  Christmas trees were laden with baubles and strings of fairy lights created magical grottos. Branches of greenery and berries were swathed in thick, fake snow—but occasionally a flake of the real stuff fluttered down to lie on the glittery pavement. Strings of tinsel sparkled as brightly as the midday sun and jolly figures of Santa were tempting little children to tug on their mother’s hand to try to get them to linger.

  Hollie’s heart slammed against her ribcage.

  Little children.

  That was what she would have before too long. A child of her own. First there would be a baby and then the baby would grow into a toddler and then...

  But, no. Before she started trying to imagine an unimaginable future, she needed to deal with the present and there was one thing which couldn’t be put off any longer. She would deliver the wretched cake to Maximo and get him to sign the papers. She would do both these things in a calm and outwardly relaxed manner, and if he brought up the subject of his lawyer again, she would tell him that these things would probably be better addressed once the seasonal break was over and the dust had settled.

  At just after three, Dave’s rather beaten-up old car dropped her off at the bottom of the lane and, carefully clutching the cake box, Hollie began to climb the steep hill towards Kastelloes. From here the ancient grey castle looked faintly forbidding as it dominated the green landscape with its turrets and its towers. It hadn’t been a hotel for a long time but Hollie’s excitement at the thought of it being brought to life again had been somewhat dampened by the dramatic changes in her own fortune.

  She tried to imagine bringing a new life into the world. Would she still be able to open her tea shop with a tiny infant in tow—was that going to be possible, despite all the proud protestations she’d made to Maximo? As her reluctant steps carried her closer to the castle, she noticed that the snow was starting to fall more heavily and coating her cheeks with big white blobs.

  There was no sign of life as she walked over the drawbridge and past the old gatehouse. No Maximo rushing out to relieve her of her burden as she came to a halt in front of the ancient oak door. If he wasn’t in, then he wouldn’t be able to sign the papers, would he? And Janette would just have to accept that. But an upwards glance showed a golden light gleaming through one of the mullioned windows, indicating that someone was home, and, although her heart was plummeting, Hollie knew she couldn’t back out now.

  She paid the driver and, after putting the cake box down on the doorstep, pulled the bell and heard a faint ringing from somewhere deep inside the castle. She looked around as she waited, trying to enjoy the vision of the falling snow covering the stone pots and statues with a fine layer of white. But more importantly, it allowed her to look away from the door, because she didn’t want Maximo opening it and finding her staring up at him with anxiety written all over her face. She needed to show him she was in control, even if she didn’t particularly feel that way.

  Her hands were cold and she wished she’d remembered to bring gloves with her. Her coat felt inadequately thin and the breath leaving her mouth was coming out in big, white puffs. She was just beginning to wonder if anyone was at home when the door of the castle opened with a creak and she turned to see Maximo standing before her, his powerful frame outlined by its arching wooden frame. Hollie felt her stomach somersault and silently cursed—but what could she do about her instinctive reaction? Despite everything which had happened between them, she obviously hadn’t acquired any immunity to him. And no wonder. Dressed in his habitual black, he looked as if he had arrived from another age. As if he were thoroughly at home in this windswept citadel, high on a hill. A conquistador, Janette had once called him and, with all that powerful and brooding darkness he exuded, didn’t her boss have a point?

  ‘Hollie,’ he said. His rich Spanish accent filtered over her skin like velvet but there was a frown creasing his brow. ‘This is a...surprise.’

  And obviously an unwelcome one, judging by his acid tone. ‘I have some papers for you to sign,’ she said, instantly on the defensive, determined to ensure he understood she was there because she had to be and not because she wanted to be. ‘Also...’ flushing, she bent to retrieve the large white box from the doorstep, which she held towards him ‘...Janette wanted you to have this.’

  ‘What is it?’ he questioned, eying the box warily.

  A few random snowflakes fluttered onto her cheeks and she shuffled from one foot to the other, feeling acutely embarrassed by the cold lack of welcome in his eyes. Suddenly she understood the expression about wishing the ground would open up and swallow you. ‘It’s a cake.’

  ‘A cake?’ he echoed.

  ‘We wanted to...well, it was Janette’s idea, actually. She wanted to celebrate the sale of Kastelloes and so she asked me to bake you a cake.’

  ‘And does she ask you to do this for all your purchasers?’ he questioned silkily as he took the box from her. ‘Or should I be flattered?’

  Something about the sarcastic way he said it made Hollie’s temper suddenly erupt. She had tried doing this in a polite and professional manner yet he still seemed so full of himself. So full of arrogant provocation and mockery. Did he think she’d concocted some kind of flimsy excuse just in order to see him? She wasn’t that desperate. ‘Christmas is supposed to be a time for giving, isn’t it?’ she retorted. ‘Perhaps that was one of the reasons she asked me to do it. And you don’t have to eat it, you know,’ she added. ‘You can always feed it to the birds. I’m sure they’d appreciate something to line their stomachs in this cold weather.’

  ‘I’m sure they would,’ he said. As if on cue, a flurry of snow came cascading down from the straining sky, straight onto her sleek head, and Maximo reluctantly acknowledged the growing tension inside him.

  He had come to this ancient castle specifically to escape Christmas, because it was a festival he avoided wherever possible. It provided the ideal bolt-hole and he’d planned to spend a few days there before he had the building razed to the ground. He hadn’t imagined that anybody would come near him and he hadn’t wanted them to. Yet now Hollie Walker had turned up, reminding him of his harsh new reality. Forcing him to acknowledge the child growing in her belly—a fact which was complicated by the realisation that he would like nothing better than to take her into his arms and kiss her again. To strip her of her drab clothing and reveal the luscious body which lay beneath. To lose himself in her sweetness as he had done on that rain-lashed night.

  His mouth twisted, because what would be the point of that? He was not going to be a part of her life, or her child’s. He had given her the details of his lawyer, so she could be in no doubt that he would be more than generous. Because providing financially for Hollie and her baby was something he could do. The only thing he could do. A child needed love and he did not know how to give love. His heart was damaged—his emotions shredded. He had
accepted that a long time ago.

  So why not just sign the damned papers, enthuse over the damned cake and then send her on her way, no matter how much he hungered to recreate that night he’d spent in her arms? If he was cold and indifferent towards her, she would soon realise how much better off she was without a man like him. ‘You’d better come inside,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be sure not to keep you for any longer than I have to.’

  ‘Let’s go to the library,’ he said, shutting the door on the icy blast outside. ‘Unlike most of the castle, at least it’s warm in there.’

  ‘Whatever,’ she said, with a shrug.

  Hollie’s heart was heavy as she followed Maximo through the wood-panelled corridors, thinking he couldn’t have been more unwelcoming if he’d tried. She thought how abrupt he seemed and she wished she weren’t here. In fact, she wished she were anywhere but here—but the instant she entered the library, her concerns were briefly forgotten.

  She’d only ever seen the place deserted, when Janette had brought her round to view it just before it went on the market. The fire exit signs from its days as a hotel were faded and the place had always appeared so lacklustre and uninspiring. But not today. Today she found herself noticing the perfect proportions of the room—the intricate carvings of cherubs and sailing ships, and the huge mullioned windows which overlooked the grounds. Was that Maximo’s influence? she found herself wondering. Did he have the ability to transmute dull surroundings and turn them into a place which breathed beauty, as he had done the night when she’d taken him home?

  Maybe it was just the roaring fire in the grate which had brought the ancient room to vibrant life—illuminating the detailing on the stone fireplace and the bare wall above it, which was just crying out for a painting. A rich landscape in oil, Hollie thought longingly. Or a portrait. You could put a comfortable chair underneath—two chairs, maybe—and sit there in the evenings watching the shadows fall. She felt a wistful wrench of her heart. Couldn’t someone turn this castle into a home?