THE WEDDING TOOK place three days later.
And if Lillie was discomfited by the speed of it, and how clearly it had all been planned before they’d come to Portugal in the first place, that seemed to be the least of her worries. Primary among her actual concerns was...what had become of her.
In Scotland she’d been...diffident. Forgiving. She’d let all those idiots in her house condescend to her for ages. She’d let them get away with all that passive aggressiveness while she’d spent the last few years of her life adrift, because all of her actual friends had gone ahead and got lives while she hadn’t had the slightest idea what to do with hers.
She had been asleep for years, perhaps, but she was wide awake now.
And she had to stay awake, because while she might have been worryingly happy to remain drifting to and fro in the tiny little tides of her little life, that was not the sort of life she wished to model for a child.
Once she started thinking like that, the stakes seemed even higher.
What sort of mother did her baby deserve?
Not the sort who let a scrum of housemates treat her ill, that was certain. And not the sort to bow down to the man who’d fathered her baby, either. She might have been spirited away to Tiago Villela’s Portuguese retreat. She was pregnant with his child and set to marry him, fair enough.
That hadn’t exactly been the proposal of her dreams, but she wasn’t backing down, because being Tiago’s—legally—was no more than her baby deserved, and Lillie had discovered to her delight that there were some things, it turned out, she was perfectly happy to fight about.
The life her child could and would have topped that list.
Leonor, who was clearly more family than housekeeper, assured her that everything was well in hand. All Lillie had been asked to do over the past few days was rest, eat, and entertain herself. All of which she had done, to excess.
A lot like she was trying to prove something to Tiago. How comfortable she was. How at her ease with his dictates.
Only when she was all alone, late at night, did she admit that the fact it was so easy for him to ignore the passion that still scorched her, just thinking of it, hurt her more than it should.
It was only there in her bed of clouds, covers over her head, could she let herself shake with all the pent-up nerves she dared not show to a man she’d thought was made of molten heat who, apparently, could decide to make himself an ice sculpture at will.
But when she woke up each morning, she allowed none of her bewilderment to show.
He didn’t want to touch her? Marvelous. She could entertain herself without him forever. She found out quickly that most of the books in the house were languages she didn’t speak. Portuguese, of course, but also Spanish, French, and what she thought was German. It was only in the guest wing that the books were in English. But because she had a stubborn streak, she liked to take books she could actually read and settle down to read them...in other parts of the house.
Because if no one was going to admit that Tiago wanted her to remain confined to quarters so he need not gaze upon her unless he expressly wished it, she was going to pretend she had no idea that she was supposed to stay put.
She swam in the pool that Leonor had pointed out to her that first night. Even though it was the waning days of November, the pool was warm, the sun was bright, and it was all much more delightful than it should have been.
Ice sculptures be damned.
They brought her a decadent high tea each day at four on the dot. Besides that, there were all the meals she could possibly want, the food so good it would have made her eyes roll back in her head in sheer delight...
But she was too busy pretending not to be affected by any of it. And all that pretending was a lot of work. It made her hungry.
It made her shake in her bed, night after night, when no one could see her.
Today, however, was her wedding day and she was finding it difficult to keep up the same stubborn front.
She felt fluttery and odd, she acknowledged, as she sat in the sitting room in her guest quarters to take her breakfast that morning. More fluttery by the moment.
“Maybe it’s jitters,” she told herself as she sipped at her tea.
Jitters were normal. They had to be, or there wouldn’t be a name for them, would there? Though she’d never felt anything quite like them before. And she needed to talk herself out of them, or slap herself into shape, because she had no intention of appearing anything but calm and in control today.
Lillie was just starting the process with a sound internal lecture, when the door swung open and Tiago walked in.
“I’m sure I’ve heard that it’s bad luck to see a bride before the wedding ceremony,” she said, hoping it sounded as unwelcoming and self-contained as she wanted it to.
But even if it did, it was a wasted effort, because all Tiago did was help himself to one of the seats in the room. He settled into the comfortable couch across from her that he made seem entirely too small, and then fixed her with that mesmerizing gaze of his.
“There are a few things we must go over,” he told her, as coldly as if they had never kissed. Much less spent a night naked and sweating, with him so deep inside of her she could still feel him now.
The flutters in her belly increased.
“Wonderful,” she said, spearing a piece of sliced ham with more force than was perhaps warranted. Or perhaps not, she thought when she saw that he’d brought a whole sheaf of papers with him. “It’s the romance for me.”
He ignored that, but in a manner that suggested she was gauche for even mentioning romance. “In the coming months, we will pay far more attention to the intricacies of your role, but this is what I must impress upon you now. The Villelas do not and will not divorce. But that does not mean that there will be the sort of scandals that inevitably spill out into the pages of tawdry newspapers. You and I must never become fodder for tabloids, Lillie.”
“No worries,” she said blandly. “I’ve managed to avoid appearing in all the tabloids so far.”
She got another cold look from Tiago, that was all. “My expectation is that this will function like any other business arrangement. We will both state our needs. We will negotiate until we reach an agreement. And we will abide by the conclusions we reach together. Do you understand?”
“You seem to be under the impression that I work for you,” Lillie said, pleasantly enough. Conversationally, even. “I’m the woman you knocked up, Tiago. I don’t actually owe you anything. The only reason I haven’t run screaming from this house is because of the baby. The only thing that interests me is what might be good for this child. If that means the front page of every tabloid in the universe, I’ll sign right up. Do you understand?”
And for a dizzying moment, she saw the Tiago she knew. The man with all that passion and wonder in his gaze, even if, this morning, it was less wonder and more indignation. Whatever it was, it wasn’t cold.
She knew, then, that there was something in her that would do anything to bring them back here. Anything at all. No matter what it took.
Though in the next moment, she dismissed that. It was childish. It didn’t matter what was going on in his eyes, for God’s sake. What mattered was what she’d just told him mattered.
The baby, beginning and end.
“A Villela marriage is a business arrangement,” he told her. Very much as if she hadn’t said a word. “They are run to work in the mutual best interests of both parties, as agreed from the start.”
“How charming.”
“Things are different when there’s so much money involved, Lillie.” His tone was repressive then, but Lillie did not wish to be repressed. “I do not expect you to understand that, of course, but if your true interest is in the child, then it must be clear to you that making certain he or she is capable of assuming my position one day with as little scandal as possible can only be a good thing.”
“I’m not signing anything,” she told him.
She didn’t know she was going to say that, but when she did, it felt a lot like shaking up a bottle of bubbly, popping the cork, and letting it spray all around. A mad sort of joy, in other words. So when he frowned at her, she lifted her chin and shrugged nonchalantly, as if this had been her plan all along.
“I must insist,” Tiago said.
“It’s not in my best interest,” she replied, with a wave of her hand. The one holding the fork, so it looked like nothing so much as a scepter. “Whatever those papers are, they’re not for me, are they? They’re for you. So I’ll have to decline. If you feel that we need to get married to protect this baby, that’s fine. I’ll do it. And not because I agree with the way you framed the whole thing. But because, obviously, having this baby born as your legitimate heir can only be good. For the baby.”
“And, of course, for you.”
“Are there benefits to being the wife of one of the richest men in the world?” she asked facetiously. “I guess we’ll see. But if you were so worried about me getting my hands on all your wealth and consequence, you shouldn’t have offered in the first place.”
He sighed. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“The only misunderstanding is how you managed to act as if you were fully human while we were in Spain,” she retorted, with enough heat that she surprised herself. “And now it turns out that you’re nothing of the kind. You’re not a man, you’re...a corporation.”
That gaze of his went glacial. “I beg your pardon?”
And for some reason that she couldn’t have put into words, Lillie found that she was suddenly enjoying herself. “I mean, think about it from my perspective. I have a blisteringly hot night with a mysterious man on a Spanish holiday. And then, months later, accidentally see his face on the nightly news. As I happen to be pregnant with his child, I make an appointment to see him. Partly it was to see that he knew about the baby, as is only right. But the other part, naturally, was to see if that night was real. If I’d made it all up in my head. And behold. It appears I did.”
“Lillie.”
And for a moment, she felt exhilarated. As if she’d somehow managed to goad him into...some kind of explosion that would bring back the Tiago she liked.
And, possibly, lead to more kissing.
Because she’d thought of little else since that night in his study.
But instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle. It made him look entirely too much like the man she’d just accused him of not being. “I can see that I’ve gone about this the wrong way.”
And he sounded so reasonable, so relatable. It took her a moment to remember that this was literally his job. Making people believe him so that he could make even more money.
If the searches she’d done on him since she’d arrived here were true, he had a gift. He was that good at it.
You need to steel yourself against this man, lass, she told herself grimly.
But he was looking at her square. And there was nothing cold or arrogant on his face, which she told herself was yet another tell. He was putting on an act, surely. He had to be.
“The truth is that I’m just as concerned about the baby as you are,” he told her and more, sounded as if he meant it. Part of the act, she assured herself. “I want to make sure that our child has all the protection that I can offer him, or her, and as quickly as possible. I think you’re taking all this talk of marital business the wrong way. It isn’t as if we won’t have a good working relationship within the marriage, it’s just that when it comes to what I have to offer you and the child, I think it’s better to focus on the big-ticket items first. And also the realities.”
Listening to him talk like this was dangerous. She found herself wanting to nod along and talk more about this good working relationship. To stand up from a little table and go to him, so she could sit beside him on the couch and perhaps put her hand on his, to make sure he knew that she was listening. Carefully. With her whole body—
You need to sort yourself right out, she told herself sternly.
“And I don’t mean that these realities are a bad thing,” he continued in the same seemingly earnest tone. “You and I barely know each other. We were together for one night, and I think we can both agree that it was...out of the ordinary. It can only make sense to hammer out an agreement that protects us both. Don’t you think?”
“I do,” Lillie shot back at him, with enough ferocity that he blinked. But she didn’t walk it back. He was doing a job, but she was fighting for something. For her baby, for herself. She was taking charge of her life, for once. “But you can’t imagine it makes sense that all that hammering out is being done by your attorneys. Who’s looking out for me? And don’t say you.” She made herself smile, despite the quick clatter of her pulse. Especially when he looked as if it troubled him that she would make such an accusation, when she hadn’t even properly made it yet. “Even if you’re the kindest, most self-sacrificing person in the world, it would make sense for me to verify that, wouldn’t it? Not simply trust you blindly.”
“Lillie,” he said in that quiet, intense way of his. “I want you to marry me. Today.”
And she knew, at once, that she was lying to herself. That for all her noble intentions of doing this, that, or the other thing for the child, what it all came down to was this.
The way her heart beat even faster when he said that. The way she reacted when she was near him. Her nipples stood at attention. Between her legs, she could feel his voice the way she’d once felt his tongue, licking into her.
The truth of the matter, whether she wished to admit it to herself or not, was that she was a right fool where this man was concerned.
Or she would have sent him a letter, as he’d said. An email. She could have called. She wouldn’t have turned up in his office, kitted out in a nice dress and her best boots, would she?
“I want you to marry me,” he told her again, his blue-green gaze even more intense. “But I also need it. Tell me what I have to do to get you to sign this agreement. Name your terms and I will make them happen. That’s how important it is to me that we secure our child’s future. Today.”
She thought about the phone call she’d had with her parents the day after he’d announced they would marry and how overjoyed they’d been that she was attempting to work things out with the father of the baby.
Is he a good sort? her father had asked, obviously doubtful from the get-go, given the last they’d talked.
He’s not a bad sort, if that’s what you mean, she’d replied. Though it’s early days.
Women have been handling the fathers of their unexpected babies since the dawn of time, her mother had said with a laugh. All it takes is as much honey as vinegar, darling. And a little bit of backbone while you’re at it.
Lillie did not ask her mother how she knew that, since she and Lillie’s dad had met in primary school and had been inseparable ever since. It was always a matter of when, not if, we’d have you, love, they’d told her.
But the important thing about her parents’ marriage was that it was a very, very good one. It was clear to anyone who encountered them that they doted on each other. That they were fond of each other, day in and day out. They had always laughed more than her friends’ parents did. They held hands, still. Her father brought her mother cups of tea every morning. She cooked him his favorite meals every night. They sat at the kitchen table and talked well into the night at least once a week. They locked their bedroom door when they were in it, still.
They would have been embarrassed to call what they had a great love, but Lillie knew that was what it was. She had felt it. She was part of it.
Maybe it didn’t matter how a thing started. Maybe what mattered was how it went along.
Or maybe, Lillie countered herself in her head, you’re just delusional enough to imagine that no matter what this man thinks he feels, you can change it.
But when she looked at him across from her, she wondered about that, too.
Maybe she wasn’t delusional at all. Because Tiago could talk all he liked about business this and no touching that, and all the rest of it besides, but he hadn’t kissed her as if he cared about any of those things.
And at the end of the day, what was her alternative? Her cousin’s spare room when her child could be the heir to all of this? For the sake of her pride?
How could she think she could call herself a good mother if she did something like that?
So she tilted her head a little bit to one side, though she couldn’t quite manage to be as flippant as she wanted.
“Well,” she said, and had to swallow, hard. “Since you asked so nicely, I will. I’ll marry you.”
And because he smiled at her, she even signed his papers, too.
Because what she wanted was a father for her child. She wasn’t a gold digger. She hadn’t had the slightest idea there was any gold to dig. That being the case, she didn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t sign. How silly would it be to turn around and make some claim to this land, this house, this grand legacy for herself?
For her child, now—that was a different story.
So she signed the papers. And she stood in his study with the celebrant from the local registrar, the notary, the unreadable Leonor, and several other officials who might actually have been his attorneys, and she married him.
“That was not exactly the culmination of love’s young dream,” she said not long after, when the official-looking men had all been ushered out by the housekeeper and only she and Tiago remained. “But I suppose it got the job done.”
Because she was trying to sound supportive.
He glanced over at her, this man who was her husband—a word that felt silly to even think—and Lillie told herself it was just as well that they’d done it this way. There was no big white dress. No crowds of family or friends. No flowers, no attempt at emotional vows, no deeply embarrassing yet always entertaining wedding disco.
He was wearing what she supposed was a more casual version of his usual clothing. The usual dark suit, but the collar of his crisp white shirt was open. Wide enough that she could see not only the strong column of his throat, but the hint of the dark hair she knew was sprinkled over his chest—seeming to exist purely to emphasize the marvelous shape of him. Those hard planes of muscle, the intriguing ridges of his abdomen.
Though it was better not to think of such things right now, she warned herself. She looked down at her own outfit instead, a simple dress from her suddenly expansive wardrobe. Deceptively simple, that was. She knew perfectly well that it made her look somehow delicate and elegant at once, when she felt more awkward and misshapen by the day.
And instead of being bridal in any regard, it was a serviceable navy.
Yet they were married all the same.
Tiago kept looking at her intently far too long. And then he beckoned for her to follow him as he opened up the floor-to-ceiling windows that were everywhere in this house, all of them doubling as doors that let out to the various tiers of terraces and balconies and patios aplenty. In this case, the red-tiled patio was set beneath an arbor, trailing vines that might not have been flowering in the first flush of spring, but were pretty all the same.
Though all Lillie could think of was how pretty they would look if she accentuated them with some Christmas lights. Out here, in all this winter sunshine, it seemed entirely too easy to forget what day it was. What month. She supposed that if she didn’t have a baby growing inside her to mark the time it would be the easiest thing in the world to simply drift off into a daydream of some eternal Portuguese summer and lose touch with herself entirely. It was already difficult to imagine that there was any scenario that would lead her to return to all that cold hard rock in Aberdeen.
Tiago ushered her to a seat at the table that had been set up there, waiting for them.
“How lovely to have a bit of a meal after a wedding,” Lillie said brightly. “Almost makes it seem real, doesn’t it?”
Tiago’s brows knitted together as he stared at her. “I assure you, our marriage is very real. Did you imagine there was some pretense in the proceedings?”
“It was more a figure of speech.”
“I would never play games with something so critical,” Tiago told her darkly.
“Because you’re known for otherwise playing a great many games, of course,” she said with a laugh.
And Lillie was not surprised that he did not laugh with her. She wasn’t sure why she was laughing herself, except she thought she was a bit more nervous than she wanted to let on. Because it was one thing to think about nights in Spain, and to make the best of things as she had been doing since, which had perhaps not been the hardship some people liked to think.
There was a part of her that mourned the loss of her solitary nights in her little room in Aberdeen, with the baby inside her and memories of Spain to keep her warm.
Because now the man in those memories was her husband, just as he would shortly become the father of their child—who she would no longer carry inside her—and maybe she wasn’t quite as resigned to all of this change as she pretended.
This was all a little more disruption than she’d had planned when she’d taken Patricia’s place at that resort.
It had certainly never occurred to her that if she did somehow find her mystery man one of these days, he would be so stern. So uncompromising, even though she was sure she could see little hints of that fearless, fiery lover she’d met that first night. But she supposed there was no crying over spilt milk. Not now.
She concentrated on the food instead, because she knew by now that it would be stellar, but as she was walking over to the table to take her seat, she stopped short. Her hands moved over her belly and she frowned.
Tiago was at her side in a moment, his hand on her elbow, his frown now an expression of concern. “Is something the matter?”
“I don’t know...” Lillie murmured, because that fluttering sensation she’d felt off and on all day was back. But now it was more intense. And it didn’t feel like a jitter, whatever that was.
Then it happened again, and she knew.
She looked up at him and did nothing at all to stop the delighted smile that moved over her face. She even laughed a little as the strangest feeling washed over her. A kind of relief, but far stronger than that, a kind of marvel.
That this was real, too. She was well and truly going to be a mother. She had made a baby who would grow up to be a person.
With this man beside her, who looked at her now as if he would tear apart the sky itself to keep her safe, if she only said the word.
It was like a different storm, brighter by far than any she’d known.
Lillie felt her smile becoming sappy at the edges, but she couldn’t mind. She reached over and took his free hand and pulled it to her belly, holding it beneath hers so his palm was flush against her roundness.
And it came again, that fluttering.
“Is that...?” His voice sounded like she felt. The disbelief. The delight.
The wonder.
“It’s the baby,” she whispered, her eyes welling up a little. “The baby’s kicking.”
When he looked up at her again, she could see the emotion in those green-and-blue eyes, making them gleam like silver and gold besides.
“Our baby,” he said thickly.
They were married. They were having this baby, together. Ours, he’d said.
Ours, she thought, like another vow.
“Yes,” she said out loud, though her throat was tight. “Ours.”
And Lillie understood for the first time just how much trouble she was in here. With Tiago, who looked at her in amazed wonder, his hands warm against the mound of her belly.
Because he would keep her safe, that she knew beyond any doubt.
But she wasn’t sure she could say the same about her heart.