Page 36 of Claiming His Baby At The Altar

‘I’m not feeling well,’ she’d replied, avoiding his stare and walking quickly to the waiting cab to take her to her hotel. Justin had laughed when she’d booked the hotel, she remembered. Everyone would crash at Ramos’s, he’d said. She thought now she’d already known how her evening would end.

Ramos had caught her hand. The smile had left his face. ‘If you’re not well, you shouldn’t be alone.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she’d muttered and yanked her burning hand out of his and thrown herself into the cab.

The next time she’d seen him had been at her mother’s sick bed. He’d visited many times but she’d never allowed herself to be alone with him. The only reason she’d hung around during those visits was because she hadn’t wanted to miss a minute of what was left of her mother’s life.

He’d tried to engage Flora in conversation at the wake, she remembered. Asked how she was holding up. Asked if she was okay for money.

She’d barely been able to look him in the eye to politely tell him she was holding up fine and also fine for money.

‘If you need anything, I’m always here,’ he’d said.

Flora had bawled her eyes out during the funeral but that was the closest she’d come to tears at the wake. She’d had no idea why a touch of humanity from the man she despised had made her want to cry, but it had. She’d managed to compress her lips into something that was supposed to resemble a smile and said, ‘I’ve got Justin, but thank you,’ before turning her back on him and going to sit with her grandfather.

The next time she’d seen him was the night they’d conceived their son, and she watched him lift Benjamin in the air again and place a kiss to his plump belly.

What was she holding out for? she wondered despondently. Night after night, sharing his bed, torturously aware and aroused.

She was scared. Admitting to herself that she’d essentially fancied Ramos since she was thirteen had been a huge thing, but to feel herself falling for him now, knowing that to give her body to him would be to give her heart...

If she could separate the physical from the emotional then she would be fine, but their one night together had proved she couldn’t.

He’d crushed her heart the first time. Even if he hadn’t misinterpreted her brother’s message, he would have crushed her eventually, trading her in for the next pretty woman who caught his eye.

Ramos was a playboy. She believed he’d never cheated but he’d never been in a committed relationship before so how would he know how good his staying power was? How did he know what he’d do when his fleeting lust for her was spent and the next pretty thing came along?

And what if it never went that far? Her body had changed so much since their night together. What if it repulsed him? How could she bear it?

When Ramos crushed her heart again it would hurt much more than it had the first time because she was growing to like him. A lot.

If she wasn’t careful, she would come to adore him.

Her heart did a sudden triple salchow when she noticed he was looking right back at her from the swimming pool.

He lifted a hand then took Benjamin’s wrist and waved for him too.

She swallowed hard and waved back.

CHAPTER NINE

THATNIGHT,EXCITEMENTand fear thrummed through Flora’s veins as she dressed for the party they were going to hosted by an old friend of Ramos’s. She hadn’t dared ask if the friend had been at the pool party she’d run away from after thirty minutes. Or if any of the other guests had been there too. She doubted she would recognise them, not with their clothes on.

Ramos had said it wasn’t a pool party, just a party-party and to dress accordingly, and she’d spent ages choosing an outfit from the beautiful array of couture clothes he’d insisted on buying her the other day. She could only hope she’d chosen a dress that wasn’t going to make her feel like a frump in comparison to everyone else.

Not knowing which shoes to match with her outfit, a white, high-necked dress that landed below her knees and had the most fabulous floaty sleeves, she decided to bite the bullet, picked up two pairs and carried them through the main bedroom to his dressing room.

‘Ramos?’ she called from the archway.

He appeared and, for the longest time, did nothing but look her up and down.

‘Do I look okay?’ she asked anxiously, feeling even more insecure because he was dressed in a snazzy grey suit with an open-throated black shirt that only enhanced his fabulous physique.

‘Querida...’His eyes glimmered. ‘You look beautiful.’

Blushing, she held the shoes out. ‘Which pair should I wear?’

His gaze drifted to her feet. She’d painted her toenails cherry red. ‘I think you look damn sexy as you are.’

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