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A Film Star, A Baby, And A Proposal Page 11


  He cleared his throat. "Eve, I'm not your father."

  "I know that," she whispered.

  What she needed he realised was love. Unconditional love. And he had it for her. All he needed to do was to convince her to take it.

  "Let me put it to you this way. I love you, and you're going to marry me."

  The disbelief in her beautiful eyes shamed him.

  "I wish you would stop saying that, Matt. You don't love me."

  "You are it for me, Eve. The one. I always knew it. I ran from it, because there are times when I can be a fool."

  Her eyes searched his and he saw the moment when she believed him.

  She pulled her hand from his and pressed her fingers in her eyes. "I need you to be nothing but honest with me because it's not only my heart you will shatter if this doesn't work, but our child's heart."

  Tenderness for her, a giant wave of it, and for the heartbroken little girl that still influenced the woman rose through him. "I'll never hurt you. I'll never let you down. Trust me, Eve."

  Now her hands dropped from her eyes.

  Whisky coloured pools swimming with an emotion that brought a lump to his throat stayed on his. "You need to be very sure because I do not forgive and I do not forget."

  That made two of them and right there Matt made a silent promise to her that one Rupert Gillier would not be in his movie. He'd make sure Tobin Gillespie earned his hefty agent's fee and get right on it.

  "Me neither," he said. Then he took her hand, linked their fingers. "You haven't said you love me, babe."

  Her eyes were still terribly sad, but he was relieved to see the flash of annoyance. Matt much preferred a pissed off Eve to the sad and vulnerable one.

  "You know I do."

  "Eve."

  "I love you, you bastard," she whispered.

  His mouth kicked because he just knew she wanted to smack him.

  He opened his mouth to promise her the earth, the stars and the moon, but she continued,

  "I'm a model. To most people that means I'm an object. Made up of arms and legs and feet and a smile. I feel like I've travelled the world and my whole life right up to this moment alone. Now I won't be alone and I want to thank you for that. For giving me a child. No matter what happens between us I'll always be grateful to you for that, Matt."

  Hell, he didn't want her gratitude for God's sake. And why did he feel there was a but coming?

  Ignoring the ache in his gut he carried on, "Marry me."

  Even though she heard the plea in his voice, saw it in his eyes she shook her head.

  "I can't marry you."

  She didn't miss the heat flash of what looked like fury and was that pain?

  "You love me. You've just admitted it. Why?"

  Because I want it too much. Love you too much, she wanted to say. Instead she said, "Think about it logically. I'm not the type who enjoys or wants the limelight. To be seen as object that belongs to you. You love the buzz, the parties and the media. You need a woman who loves it too."

  He nodded. "So, are you saying you'd marry me if I gave up acting?"

  Those whisky eyes flashed. "Don't be ridiculous."

  "I'm not the one being ridiculous," he tossed back. He grabbed her other hand, forced her to look at him. "You're making a pitiful excuse. Tell me the truth, dammit."

  Eve thought her heart would break in two. Why couldn't he see that this would never work between them? But she wanted a life with him so very much. If she had one wish it would be that they could work together. No matter how hard she tried she just didn't believe that he had it in him to put her and a baby before himself and his towering ambition.

  Her brow creased as she fell apart and Matt felt like a bastard, but he needed to hear the truth and nothing but from her.

  Tears, big fat ones, streamed down her cheeks.

  "I can't do it. I can't go through it again, Matt, just waiting for you to walk away." On a cry she pressed her fingers into her eyes. "Please God, I can't do it."

  Forgetting where they were, Matt was on his feet and pulling her up. He caught her to him and held on tight, desperate to comfort, and to console. But Eve wanted guarantees and he had none to give. He'd told her he loved her but it wasn't enough. How could he find the right words to get through this kind of fear?

  She didn't trust him.

  And whose fault was that?

  "Eve, don't cry," he said, desperately searching for patience.

  And then something he'd heard his father once say came to him. He'd been talking to Matt's older brother about safe sex and what loving a woman and marriage was all about. 'Marriage is not about doing the right thing or whether or not you will be happy with a woman. Marriage is about making someone else happy. It's about her. It's about making a family with her. And if a man doesn't raise his own child, or influence that child, who will?'

  "Eve, I want to make you happy. I want to build a home with you. I want to raise our children." At her wide eyes that were glued to his, he smiled. "Yes, I want more than one, babe. I want to be a part of your family. Be your husband. See, it's not all about me it's about you." Now his brows rose. "Can you say that you feel the same way about me?"

  Because if she didn't want to put him first there was no way the relationship would work.

  Matt knew it with his whole heart and soul.

  He was fighting for his life here and, man, it was scaring the hell out of him. So was the uncertainty in those fabulous eyes.

  "Do you seriously think my attitude towards you is that if this doesn't work out between us I'll just get rid of you and find a new woman?" He could tell by her face that was exactly how she felt. "How insulting is that?"

  She struggled to get out of his arms, but there was no way he was letting her go.

  "You left me," she yelled.

  "Yes, because I was a selfish, self-centred son-of-a-bitch. All I was thinking of was me. Now all I'm thinking of is what can I give to you freely and without conditions. My heart. I've given you my heart, Eve," His voice broke and her face was swimming in front of his eyes. "I want this relationship to be about us. Not just me or you, but us and our family. Please, Eve. Don't break my heart."

  Whisky coloured eyes were searching his and seemed to see right into his soul.

  For a breathless moment it was as if time itself was suspended.

  Then she blinked, nodded once.

  "You're right. It isn't about me. It's about us and it's about caring about our child. I know Christmas is hard for you, Matt. Do you think you can give me a chance to change bad Christmas memories for good ones?"

  "I will," he whispered the promise.

  Her hand rose, trembling a little, as her fingers swept his hair off his forehead.

  His arms went around her waist and pulled her close.

  Those amazing eyes met his and he saw it before she uttered a single word.

  "I love you, Matt. Marry me?"

  And her smile was so fragile and the most beautiful thing Matt had ever seen.

  All he could do was stare at her.

  She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes to look into his in the way that got him every single time.

  "Okay," he said. "I'll do it."

  Matt gave a whoop of joy and his mouth was on hers.

  Neither of them heard the loud cheer that went up in the room or saw cell phones flash.

  And neither of them had an inkling that film-star Mathias Carter's proposal was going to be a YouTube hit and go viral within twenty-four hours.

  Epilogue

  Christmas Day, The Dower House.

  "When's the wedding?"

  Rosie Ludlow was sprawled on a couch cuddling a very tired Sophia Ferranti.

  Matt was sitting with his arm around his fiancé - his fiancé - how amazing was that? Eve's head was resting on his shoulder, her left hand in his. She was wearing a stunning square cut diamond set in platinum that he'd bought while she'd been sleeping on the first day she'd arrived. Matt brought her ha
nd to his mouth, pressed his lips to her ring finger.

  "Four weeks. And then it's on to New Zealand."

  "Nico wants you to have the ceremony at The Hall," Rosie said.

  "I don't care where we have it," Eve replied.

  Matt reached out to cup her chin in his hand, and checked out her eyes.

  Yep, they still had that dazed look of stunned delight.

  And he promised himself to work every single day to keep that look in her eyes.

  Nico and Bronte entered with the new baby.

  They sat on a couch and right away little Luca was at Bronte's knee to gently stroke the baby's dark head.

  "Have you decided on what you're going to call that poor nameless child yet?" asked Rosie.

  Nico perched Luca on his knee, nuzzled his black curls.

  "We're calling her Eve." He grinned at Eve's gasp of delight before he drawled, "My wife drew the line at Matilda." As dark eyes met his, Matt gave Nico a nod knowing what was coming. "We would be very happy if Matt and Eve would agree to be my daughter's godparents?"

  Eve gripped Matt's hand and he felt the little tremble that passed from her to him.

  "I would be delighted," she said.

  "Me too," Matt agreed and then added, "Actually, I was going to ask if you and Bronte would be godparents to our child when it arrives."

  Eve's head spun and golden eyes stared into his.

  He saw it then, the moment when she realised that no matter what happened to them their child's future would be in secure hands.

  "Oh my God, Matt."

  "Grazie," Nico growled the word in a way that made Matt and Eve grin. "It would be my honour."

  "Want to know what I think?" Rosie asked the room in general and snuggled up under her husband's strong arm.

  "What?" they all sang.

  "I think all of our Christmases have come at once."

  Merry Christmas!

  From C C MACKENZIE

  A Message From Christine.

  Like many others, in our family Christmas is a very special time of year.

  It's a time to give thanks for health and happiness and to remember people who can't be with us or who have passed away.

  This year for the first time there's a cast of literally thousands of people who have touched me with their enthusiasm and encouragement and kindness.

  And one of those people is you, my reader. All the Ludlow Hall stories are written for you. The Christmas special was written with you in mind. It's my Christmas gift to you and I hope you enjoyed reading Matt and Eve's story.

  The past year has been nothing short of thrilling for me as a writer. I can promise you plenty more tears of heartbreak, joy and laughter in The Ludlow Hall series. Next up is Book Five, 'The Fall of Jacob Del Garda'. Poor Jacob and poor Gabriella, they certainly have their challenges ahead. And I want to give you exclusive news never shared before. In book five we also meet Tobin Gillespie again along with Gabriella's twin sister Sophie, who gives Tobin a run for his money. Two romances for the price of one.

  Here's an excerpt following this note!

  But first I wish you the reader, your family and friends a wonderful Christmas and may the New Year bring you health and happiness.

  Lots of love,

  Christine X

  The Fall Of Jacob Del Garda

  By CC MacKenzie

  Prologue

  "I’m sorry, Jacob. But I can’t do this. I can’t go through with it."

  Gabriella’s voice was no more than a whisper. Her fiancé's spectacular face swam in front of her eyes. And she blinked rapidly to clear them.

  He was simply staring at her as if she’d sprung another head.

  They were standing in their home, the penthouse apartment of The Ortiz Prince Felipe Hotel in the island of Bimini in the Bahamas. The spacious rooms were beautifully decorated in soft creams with luxurious splashes of jewel colours on silk cushions, drapes and vivid glass bowls, along with carefully chosen pieces of furniture. Pieces they’d shopped for together. Yet another wedding gift beautifully boxed with a waterfall of silver ribbon lay unopened and forgotten on the table between them.

  Dark, dark eyes, filled with an intensity that made her heart drum too loud in her ears were riveted on hers.

  "I do not understand, querida," he said carefully. His deep voice went rough and he cleared his throat. "You want to postpone our wedding. Or you do not want to marry me, ever?"

  Colour rose and fell from high cheekbones leaving him too pale.

  Her heart fractured.

  Gabriella clung to the back of the chair for support. A corner of her mind registered the fact that her knuckles were bone white.

  She wouldn’t think about why her life, her future, with a man she loved so much was lying in tatters. If she thought about it, she’d never be able to go through with this.

  Even now the mere thought of the pain and the harm she was inflicting on a man who didn’t deserve either made her wonder if she could do it.

  But the alternative was not an option.

  And that alternative made her straighten her spine, look him dead in the eye.

  Jacob Del Garda was a hard man. In business he gave no quarter, she knew that. But with her he’d been patient and so loving and giving. Dark eyes the colour of burnt chestnuts narrowed into hers, while a crease lined his usually perfect forehead. He had a smooth lean face that complemented the aristocratic carve of his cheekbones and his long, thin mouth. His nose was slightly aquiline, which had always appealed to her. The hair, raven black and those brooding eyes always made her think of one of those statues of a fallen angel.

  She was used to seeing wonderful looking men. In her line of work a carefully maintained body was a given. At twenty-three she needed to workout four times a week to stay lean, healthy, and to keep her body in shape.

  A body she’d taken utterly for granted. And body that had let her down in the worst possible way.

  Bitter tears stung again. Oh God, please help her do this.

  The buzz in her ears became louder and she forced herself to take a shallow breath.

  Her eyes stayed on his. "Ever."

  She saw the blow hit him and read a toxic mix of pain, confusion and despair.

  Her legs threatened to give way so she held on tightly to the chair.

  Be strong, you can do this, she told herself.

  "This is madness, Gabriella." Jacob’s deep voice cracked. The Spanish accent was more pronounced now as he paced and ran a shaky hand over his hair. He wore a lightweight suit in pale grey, immaculately cut by an up and coming tailor from Savile Row. His crisp shirt was pristine white cotton, the Windsor knot of his silk tie perfect.

  He shook his head.

  Dark eyes lasered into hers. "I know I have been busy with the new acquisition. You knew how it would be."

  She could almost hear his clever analytical mind clicking through the probabilities of what had gone wrong.

  Now he stopped. "You have been quiet and distracted, lost a little weight. But I put it down to nerves. I know you wanted a small wedding." He frowned, rubbed the back of his neck, that strong jaw. He stared hard at her. "Is that what this is all about? I agree things have got way out of hand. My father is enough to drive any sane person crazy. Has he...?"

  "No," she said quickly. She adored Don Norberto Juan Ortiz Conde Del Garda . "It has nothing to do with your father. I’m sorry..."

  Her voice faded and she wondered why the hell she'd thought she could do this?

  She could have written a letter and then run as fast as she could. The thought had crossed her mind more than once. But that would have been sheer cowardice.

  Jacob deserved to be told face to face that the future he’d dreamt of, a wife and a family, with her, could never be.

  Of course, she could never tell him why because he’d never let her go. He was an honourable man with a highly developed sense of duty. He’d stick by her, of course he would.

  But she was the one who couldn�
��t live with it, refused to even consider giving him a choice in his own future, his own destiny. She loved him too much to see him suffer, to see him look at other couples, normal couples, living a normal life. To see him wish that he’d chosen differently.

  Jacob’s eyes narrowed into dark slits, became so cool that she shivered.

  Those eyes missed nothing as they searched her face.

  "I know you can handle my father. You can handle anything." But the tone had gone silky now. "Why?"

  Gabriella licked parched lips.

  "I made a mistake. I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But I..."

  Her voice broke.

  "Stop saying you are sorry," he exploded and moved towards her.

  Gabriella flinched from his pain, from the desperation in his voice and took a step back, fear skidding up her spine. If he touched her she would break and never, ever, let him go.

  His eyes went wide and she recognised hurt battling through utter disbelief.

  "You are scared? Of me?"

  Shame scorched her cheeks.

  Nausea crawled into her throat.

  She was deliberately hurting a good man. A man who would stand by her, she knew he would. And that was precisely why she needed to let him go.

  "I would never harm you. How could you even think of such a thing," he said, his Spanish accent stronger as he looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. Now he spoke with great care, enunciating every single syllable, "Gabriella, we love each other. Do we not?"

  The deep hurt in eyes now dark with a baffled disbelief matched the fist squeezing the life from her heart.

  Sending up a prayer for forgiveness, she lied straight to his face.

  "No. I don’t love you," she whispered. And rubbed the incinerating ache below her breast bone.

  She’d thought she’d experienced anguish?

  It was nothing compared to this.

  Hands clenched at his sides, Jacob’s breath came hard and fast, and she watched him fighting a war of attrition to keep it together.

  With trembling fingers, she took off her diamond and platinum engagement ring, placing it on the table.