Page 35 of Cinderella's Christmas Secret

Her boss was so...probing. She would almost certainly pry and ask Hollie what it was like being engaged to someone as charismatic as Maximo Diaz. She might even ask her details about how it had happened.

And Hollie would say—what?

That it had been a one-night

stand with far-reaching ramifications, hence the Spanish tycoon’s shock proposal of marriage? She certainly wasn’t going to hint at her growing insecurities about her place in Maximo’s life or confess that he seemed to be pushing her away from him. Hollie bit her lip. He’d made it clear he didn’t want deep, or mushy, or lovey-dovey from their relationship—yet despite knowing those things, it made little difference to the way she felt about him. She still felt dizzy with longing whenever she thought about him.

Perhaps it was the thought of how it had been before which kept her snared—all those evocative memories of a snowed-in Christmas, which had led her to believe in all kinds of possibilities. The way he’d taken her into his confidence and the way he made her feel when she was in his arms... Perhaps it was her lack of experience of sex which made her ultra-susceptible to its influence. Because sometimes, when she was lying close to him, with the powerful beat of his powerful heart slowing in perfect time with her own, Hollie would feel something close to...

Love?

She swallowed. Was it possible to love someone even if you knew that was the last thing they wanted from you?

Was it?

Yes, of course it was possible. People had been falling in love indiscriminately since the beginning of time. And, despite all her mixed-up feelings, Hollie’s heart still lifted with joy when she answered Maximo’s text asking whether she’d settled in and saying he’d call her later. His brief message made her think. It made her look at the situation from a different viewpoint. Back in Madrid she had convinced herself she was missing her simple life in Trescombe, but the irony was that she was missing Maximo a lot more. Didn’t she ache for him with a fierce longing which was almost visceral? And if that was the case, then surely fitting into her new world in Spain wasn’t only preferable, but achievable. All she had to do was to give it a decent chance, and that meant giving it time. Couldn’t she choose her moment to suggest that he didn’t have to work quite so hard—and couldn’t they get back the kind of closeness they’d had before?

Feeling suddenly light-hearted, she made herself a sandwich and sat down at the table munching it as she looked around. Her little pine tree was wilting and had deposited most of its needles onto the rug, and two of the baubles had fallen to the floor. Christmas really was over and she was going to have to think about taking all these decorations down before Twelfth Night.

She was just about to leave for work next morning, when she heard her phone vibrate and she slid it out of her handbag to look at it.

It was a number she didn’t recognise. An international number—Spanish, she thought. And when she clicked on the call she discovered it was Cristina, the woman she’d met at Javier’s party. The woman with the potential to be a new friend. The blonde in the green dress.

‘Hi,’ said Hollie, a smile entering her voice. ‘How lovely to hear from you! How are you?’

‘I’m...well. You have returned to England, I think?’

‘That’s right. I’m just about to go to work. I’m flying back at the beginning of February.’

Cristina’s accented voice dipped by a fraction. ‘And Maximo. Is he there with you?’

‘No, I’m afraid he’s not. He’s coming over at the weekend.’

‘I see.’ There was a pause. ‘I understand you’re pregnant, Hollie? I really should have congratulated you at the party.’

‘Yes, I am.’ Hollie felt her heart give a little kick. ‘I’m twelve weeks along. The scan is on Wednesday.’

There was another pause but this time, Cristina’s voice sounded different. It quivered with the air of somebody who knew something. More specifically, who knew something you didn’t.

‘I like you, Hollie,’ she said slowly. ‘And I have learned something which is difficult for me to tell you, but which I feel you ought to know.’

‘You’re scaring me now,’ said Hollie, only half joking. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s about Maximo.’ There was a pause. ‘About the real reason he’s marrying you.’

It was an extraordinary thing for someone to say out of the blue like that—especially someone who didn’t know you—and for a moment Hollie’s only response was silence. Her fingers tightened around the handset and she could feel her throat constrict. She felt faintly disappointed. As if she had misjudged Cristina, who perhaps didn’t want to be her friend at all. If she were a different kind of person she might have frostily retorted that it wasn’t any of the other woman’s business. But she wasn’t going to hide from the truth, and if Cristina was expressing what everyone else was thinking, then maybe the subject would be better addressed head-on. ‘I’m not naïve enough to believe the wedding would be happening if I weren’t pregnant,’ she said quietly.

‘I’m sure you’re not. But he’s not just marrying you in order to maintain respectability,’ Cristina said, and then the words came out in a rush, as if she was embarrassed to repeat them. ‘He’s marrying you because he stands to inherit the family business, which will be put in trust for your child. Only the will stipulates that the child must be born within wedlock.’

Hollie froze.

But Maximo had been estranged from his father since the age of fourteen. He’d told her that.

With her free hand, she gripped the back of a nearby chair. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she whispered.

‘I’m afraid it’s true, my dear,’ said Cristina. ‘I heard this through Beatriz, one of his stepsisters. It was a hotly contested clause in the will, although the lawyers assured them it was watertight. They are obviously angry that their father’s illegitimate son stands to inherit one of the most profitable companies in Spain. I’m sorry, Hollie. I felt it best you should know, but this is not news I would ever wish to be the bearer of.’

‘No. Thank you.’ Hollie’s voice was brisk now. Polite, even. ‘I appreciate it, Cristina.’

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