LITMIR.BIZ

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offering her almost everything that she would eventually want...only she hadn’t wanted to find it quite so soon after leaving the convent.

      She should have thought of that reality before she’d shared her body with him, she reflected guiltily, should have thought of who he was and who she was and how her grandfather might react to that intimate connection. But she hadn’t thought one sensible thought since Max had exploded into her safe little world, she conceded. He was lean and dark and beautiful and his sophistication and charisma had stolen her wits. She suspected that from the outset she had been behaving rather like an infatuated teenager, all overexcited and encouraging, wildly impulsive while never counting the cost. Or even considering the question of repercussions. What if she were to conceive a child?

      Wasn’t that the real bottom line? Wasn’t she being horribly short-sighted and selfish when she thought regretfully of the freedom she had planned to embrace in England? The putative career choices and socialising she had dreamily envisaged? In their own way, weren’t such aspirations rather similar to the single-minded selfishness that had persuaded her own parents to abandon her? A dependent baby hadn’t fitted in with either her father or her mother’s plans. Once their marriage had broken down, Tia had become an unwelcome inconvenience to Paul and Inez Grayson. Was she to take the same attitude to her own baby, were there to be one?

      Everything strong and ethical in Tia cried out against that attitude. If there was to be a baby, that baby’s needs should be placed central and first, not sacrificed to her self-interest. She would behave better than her parents had, she told herself urgently. She could make sacrifices if necessary and rearrange her own priorities if she became a mother. But naturally all of that would be easier to do if she had the father of her child by her side to help. Whether she liked to admit it or not, Max’s proposal could be a lifeline and one that she would very much need if she had a baby.

      ‘Can’t we wait and see if we have anything to worry about first?’ Tia asked, her colour high.

      ‘I don’t think we should risk your new life in England starting out under a cloud,’ Max admitted truthfully. ‘Your grandfather would be upset if we had to suddenly confess all and get married in a hurry. We could get married here in Rio and return to England as a couple. It would be easier.’

      ‘But it could also be quite unnecessary. I may not be pregnant,’ Tia pointed out uncomfortably.

      ‘And if that proves to be the case, we can reconsider our situation at a later date, free of all other concerns,’ Max stated with an almost imperceptible wince, thick lashes dropping down on his eyes to shield them from the strong light, his chiselled jaw line clenching at even the prospect of her conceiving.

      Scolding herself for her preoccupation, Tia rose to switch off the lamps, so that the only light entering the bedroom was shared from the reception room next door in a wide triangle that plunged the bed and Max into semi-darkness.

      ‘Thanks,’ he sighed.

      Tia drew in a decisive breath. ‘I’ll marry you if you honestly believe that that’s the best option we have. I don’t want to do anything to upset my grandfather either. After all, without his intervention, I would still be at the convent.’

      Relieved by her assent, Max relaxed his wide naked shoulders and rested back on the pillows. ‘Use my room and go to bed now. It’s ridiculous that the doctor told you to sit here and keep me awake all night. Believe me, without my migraine medication I’m in too much discomfort to fall asleep.’

      ‘I’m not leaving you alone,’ Tia answered stiffly. ‘If I’m going to be your wife, it’s my duty to look after you.’

      ‘Don’t kill me with enthusiasm,’ Max quipped, cringing behind that humour at the label of ‘wife’ but far more unnerved by the prospect of a pregnancy.

      After all, Max had never planned to have a child. Ever. He didn’t want to pass on what he saw as his murky genes. He didn’t want to face the challenge of being a father when his own had been such a monster. All he had ever wanted was a reasonably peaceful, solitary and successful life. But between them Andrew and Tia had tripped him up, thrusting a giant spoke into his structured and controlled existence, throwing up worries and vulnerabilities he had never had to face before. He didn’t want to brood about that misfortune though. Life was always challenging, he reminded himself impatiently. And most men would not consider a very beautiful, very sexy wife a burden...

      Why did he have to be different? But he knew the answer, didn’t he? Born of violence, he didn’t want to take the risk of forming a permanent relationship with a woman or having a child of his own because he could never quite trust himself, could he?

      As his ever vigilant and distrustful aunt had often reminded him, ‘Who knows what you’ll be like when you grow up? I can only do my best with you but blood can tell in the next generation, and I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that your father was a brute and your mother was delusional.’ It had been one of Carina’s favourite speeches and it had ensured that Max never once forgot his sordid start in life.

      Unaware of her future husband’s bleak thoughts and falling far short of her duty of care as a potential wife, Tia dozed off, exhausted by the day she had had. When she wakened it was late into the morning and she was no longer in the chair, she was lying on the bed with a cover thrown over her, and Max was nowhere to be seen. Assuming he had returned to his own room, she went for a shower, revelling in the refreshing beat of the water against her skin, so very different from the weak lukewarm trickle that had purported to be a shower at the convent. Reluctant to put on her crumpled clothing again, she made use of the fleecy robe on the back of the door and emerged, stilling when she saw Max, fully dressed and apparently restored to normality, in the bedroom doorway.

      ‘Can you get dressed quickly? I’ve ordered breakfast for you but we’re running late for your appointment.’

      ‘I have an appointment? Where?’ Tia walked barefoot over the polished floor, fighting to keep her voice level and her expressive face still because her mouth had run dry and her heart was pounding. Clothed in a light grey suit that exuded the exclusive expense of personal tailoring, Max, from the smooth olive planes of his exquisite bone structure to the deep-set drama of his black-fringed golden eyes, was simply breathtaking.

      ‘One of those women’s grooming places,’ Max proffered. ‘I had my PA organise it for you yesterday because I thought you would enjoy the experience. They’ll do your nails and stuff like that.’

      Tia nodded, a jolt of happy anticipation bringing a sudden smile to her tense mouth. At the party the night before in the company of much better groomed women she had been mortifyingly conscious of her unstyled hair, the ugly callouses on her hands and her short nails. Although she had been raised to believe that vanity was a sin, when she had still been at school with Maddie she had experimented with make-up just like every other girl there. Once Maddie had moved on with her life beyond school, however, Tia had had nobody to share those little vanities with.

      ‘I will enjoy it. Have you been out?’

      ‘I went for the hospital scan first thing,’ Max admitted, surprising her. ‘I have concussion, which will heal on its own. I feel fine.’

      Tia wanted to slap him for not waking her and allowing her to accompany him. Concussion and he just shook the injury off as though it were nothing? Wasn’t that taking macho male denial of weakness too far?

      ‘I’m relieved that you got checked out but surprised because you seemed so against it last night.’

      ‘I don’t like hospitals but I’m not stupid. I’ve had concussion before and it was more serious on that occasion.’ Max shrugged a dismissive shoulder while watching her pull various garments to consider from the wardrobe. ‘Wear the blue dress. It’ll highlight your eyes,’ he advised, striding back into the other room.

      Clad in the blue dress, Tia slid her feet into light sandals. She rubbed her pale cheeks to lend her wan reflection a little colour. She looked tired, not her best and she marvelled at Max’s undeniable energy after his accident the night before. He’d had concussion

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