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to return to England for good when her ballet career was over. Now, embracing that the rest of her life would be spent in Madrid whatever happened in her marriage, she was moving her entire life over.

      She had no idea what Javier had been doing since their short meeting where they had thrashed out an agreement that suited neither of them but was best for their child.

      She would give their marriage her best shot and she would force him to give it his best too. He had agreed to try. She had to hold onto that even if his actions since she’d returned to England had been less than positive.

      He’d politely declined her offer to go to the hospital with her for the first scan, claiming he was too busy, so she had gone with her mother.

      Her mother, bless her gentle heart, had been enthralled with the image on the screen. Her father had spent an age staring at the grainy picture she had given him of it. It had broken Sophie’s heart to tell the loving couple who had adopted her at eighteen months that their grandchild would be raised in Spain, but she had been able to offset their disappointment by promising lots of visits. She knew it had comforted them to know she would be marrying, although it had been another disappointment to them that they wouldn’t meet the groom before the wedding day.

      Her poor parents. They’d masked their disappointment at her unplanned pregnancy well but she’d seen the pained glances they’d exchanged before embracing her and offering their full support.

      Her parents had both been virgins on their wedding day. Sophie had never expected to stay a virgin until her own but she had been waiting for the thunderbolt they had both told her about, that certainty that she had found ‘the one’, the man she would spend the rest of her life with. She would never willingly disappoint them with anything less.

      Javier was the only man she had looked at and felt her heart and pulses soar.

      She had emailed the scan to him but received no response, either positive or negative. His next message to her had been to confirm the date of their wedding, written in the style of a business memo.

      The man who had threatened to take full custody of their child if Sophie didn’t comply with his demands had so far shown zero interest in it.

      She would force an interest. By the time their child was born in six months, she was determined Javier would be as excited for its arrival as she was. She didn’t expect miracles. She doubted he would be a hands-on father—the thought of that towering inferno of a man changing a nappy evoked hysterical laughter in her—but for their child’s sake she wanted Javier to reach a place where he could open his heart and love it.

      She had to believe he was capable of love. She had to.

      To be fair to him, he hadn’t abandoned her completely. She’d arrived back in the UK to find a chauffeured car waiting for her at the airport, the driver informing her she had him at her disposal until her return to Madrid. When they had settled on the date for her to move in with him, Javier had insisted on sending his private jet to England to collect her. He’d also arranged for a company to collect and transport all her belongings. They should have beaten her here, her stuff all ready for her to unpack in the house she very much hoped would soon feel like home.

      Her heart thudded painfully as she took the heavy knocker in her hand, not yet ready to simply walk into this mansion as if she belonged there. She had barely moved it when the door opened.

      A thin man in a sober suit greeted her with a nod. ‘Miss Johnson, please, come in,’ he said in impeccable English. ‘I am Julio, Mr Casillas’s butler. I run the household staff.’

      Sophie tried to stop her eyes popping out of her head.

      Javier had a butler? Wow.

      On her previous two visits she had seen only one member of staff and had thought little of it. But now she did think about it and realised there was no way a house of these proportions and of such magnificence could be maintained by only one person.

      ‘How many staff are there?’ she asked curiously.

      ‘Nine. Three of us live in. Can I get you any refreshment?’

      ‘I ate on the flight over, thank you.’

      He smiled. ‘Then shall I show you to your room so you can get comfortable?’

      ‘Is Javier not here?’

      ‘Mr Casillas is in a meeting. He will be back this evening.’

      She forced a smile to hide the pierce of disappointment.

      Javier hadn’t said he would be at home to meet her. She had made an assumption that he would want to greet her and make her feel welcome because that was what decent men did for the women carrying their child.

      She had a feeling this was a deliberate act on Javier’s behalf, a throwing down of the gauntlet, a reminder that this marriage was not how he wanted it and he would not have his space encroached.

      ‘Then show me to my room,’ she said with artificial brightness. ‘Has my stuff arrived yet?’

      ‘It was delivered last night,’ he confirmed, leading the way up the grand staircase that spread like wings at the top for the two long sections of the house. He turned right and strode down the wide landing lined with chaises longues and cabinets filled with ancient artefacts until he reached the furthest door at the end and opened it for her.

      Sophie stepped inside and immediately sucked a breath in.

      The room was beautiful.

      ‘I hope you don’t mind but we took the liberty of unpacking for you,’ Julio said. ‘If you are not happy with where your possessions have been put then we will put them where you think more suitable.’

      She grinned, her sense of humour tickled at the butler’s gravity. ‘I’m sure wherever they’ve been put will be fine and if it’s not then I can move them myself.’

      ‘As you wish but please remember we are here to serve. Whatever you require, it is our job to provide it.’

      Slowly she gazed around the fabulous room with its three high, wide windows overlooking Javier’s beautiful garden, the furthest revealing a glimpse of a swimming pool. She opened a door to find a bathroom bigger than her childhood bedroom, another that revealed a dressing room as large as the living room of the flat she had shared with Freya.

      Everything was so soft and clean and feminine...

      Narrowing her eyes, she stared harder and walked back into the bathroom.

      There was not a single masculine product to be found.

      As casually as she could manage, she turned her attention back to the butler, who now stood formally by the bedroom door. ‘Where’s Javier’s room?’

      ‘At the end of the west wing. Would you like me to show you around the rest of the house?’

      It placed a great strain on all her facial muscles to pull a smile to her face but she managed it. ‘No, thank you, Julio. I’m sure you have work you need to be getting on with. I’m happy to explore on my own.’

      ‘If you are sure?’

      ‘I’m sure.’

      After asking once again if she required anything and giving instructions on how to contact the staff for when she did, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

      When she was alone, the smile on Sophie’s face dropped and she folded her arms protectively around her belly.

      So much for them creating a real marriage. Javier had stuck her as far away from him as he could get her.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      JAVIER SENSED SOPHIE’S presence the moment he stepped through the front door.

      There was nothing of her in his eyeline, everything

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