“Here.” Gently he thrust the sleeping baby into her arms, watching anxiously. As the older woman cooed softly in admiration, Eduardo turned and raced back outside.
The September sun was still hot, pouring golden light through the white clouds. His driver was reaching for his wife’s door when Eduardo stopped him. “I’ll do it, Sanchez.”
“Of course, sir.”
Eduardo looked down at Callie through the car window. Her head had fallen back, her beautiful face now leaning against the leather seat. Dark, long eyelashes fluttered against her pale skin. She looked so young. So tired.
As he lifted her into his arms, she stirred but did not wake. Her eyelashes fluttered and she murmured something in her sleep, nestling her cheek against his chest as her wavy light brown hair fell back on his shoulder.
She weighed next to nothing, he thought. Looking down at his wife, his heart gave a strange thump. While Sanchez drove the car to the underground garage, Eduardo carried Callie inside. He took his private elevator to the top floor.
He’d closed on this two-story penthouse a week ago as an investment. The penthouse had been languishing on the market for two years with a thirty-six-million-dollar price tag before he’d bought it for a steal, at the fire sale price of twenty-seven million. He hadn’t intended to live here for long. But now … his plans were rapidly changing.
“I’ll take the baby to the nursery, sir,” his housekeeper said softly when he came out of the elevator. He nodded then carried his wife across the large, two-story foyer wi
th its Brazilian hardwood floor in a patterned mosaic. Going up the sweeping stairs, he started down the hall toward the guest room.
Then he stopped.
The master bedroom would be better for Callie in every way. It was larger, with a huge en suite bathroom and a wall of windows overlooking the city and the Hudson River. Most importantly, it was adjacent to the study, which had been turned into the nursery. Shifting Callie’s weight in his arms, Eduardo turned back. Carrying her into his bedroom, he put her down on his king-size bed. Sí. It was better.
Callie shifted, murmuring in her sleep as she turned on his soft feather pillow with its thousand-thread-count Egyptian cotton pillowcase. Eduardo closed the heavy curtains around the windows, darkening the room. He covered her sleeping form with a blanket, then for a long moment, he looked down at her, listening to her steady, even breath.
He’d only meant their marriage to last three months. He hadn’t thought he could endure it for longer.
But in the forty-eight hours since the birth, his perspective had changed.
His daughter was small and innocent and oh, so fragile. Eduardo knew what it meant to feel like unwanted baggage, like a stray without a home. He wanted his daughter to feel safe and protected, not split between divorced parents, between two lives. He wanted her to have not just a name, but a real home. A real family.
And no matter what Eduardo thought of Callie, he knew she loved their baby. He’d seen it in the way she’d fought through the pain of childbirth with such bravery. In the way she’d sacrificed her own body, her own sleep and peace, in order to nurture and cherish their child. Even in the way she’d fought with him over her name.
Eduardo’s jaw set. If Callie could endure pain, so could he. He turned away. There would be no divorce. They both would sacrifice. He would give up his desire for a wife he could trust. She would give up her dreams of love. Love was an illusion, anyway.
Responsibility was not.
She might not like his plan. Eduardo exhaled, remembering her horrified reaction when he’d first proposed marriage. She wouldn’t accept a permanent union without a fight. So he would give her time to accept their loveless marriage. To appreciate what he could offer. To forget the people she’d left behind.
His hand tightened on the doorknob. He’d give her the agreed-upon three months to see the benefits of their marriage. And if, at the end, Callie still wanted her freedom?
He glanced back through the shadowy bedroom with narrowed eyes. Then he’d ruthlessly keep her prisoner, like a songbird in a gilded cage. Walking into the hallway, Eduardo shut the double doors behind him with quiet, ominous finality.
Now that Callie was his wife, he never intended to let her go.
CHAPTER FOUR
CALLIE sat up straight in bed.
Disoriented, she put her hands to her head, feeling dizzy and half-asleep as she looked around the strange, dark room. Where was she? How did she get in this bed? Her breasts were full and aching, and she was still dressed in the same long-sleeved T-shirt and knit pants she’d worn from the hospital. She had no memory of how she’d gotten here, but she’d thought she heard her baby crying….
Her baby! She sucked in her breath. Where was her baby?
“Soleil?” she whimpered. She jumped up from bed and screamed, “Soleil!”
Light flooded the room from the hallway as double doors opened. Suddenly Eduardo’s arms were around her.
“Where is she?” she cried in panic, struggling in his arms. She looked up at the hard lines of his face, half-hidden in shadows. “Where have you taken her?”
“She’s here.” Eduardo abruptly released her, crossing the bedroom to fling open a door. “Here!”