Million-Dollar Love-Child
A repeat performance?
Erotic memories flashed through her brain and she took a step backwards, as if to escape from them. ‘Let’s get this straight.’ Despite all her best efforts, her voice shook slightly. ‘Nothing would induce me to climb back into your bed, Luc. Nothing. That was one life experience I have no intention of repeating. Ever. I’m not that stupid.’
He stilled and a look of masculine speculation flickered across his handsome face. ‘Is that a fact?’
Too late she realised that a man like Luc would probably consider that a challenge. And he was a man who loved a challenge.
She looked at him helplessly, wondering how on earth the conversation had developed into this. For some reason they were right back where they’d left off seven years before and it wasn’t what she’d planned.
She’d intended to be cool and businesslike and to avoid anything remotely personal. Instead of which, their verbal exchange had so far been entirely personal.
And still she hadn’t told him what she needed to tell him.
Still she hadn’t said what needed to be said.
He prowled around her slowly and a slightly mocking smile touched his firm mouth. ‘Still so much passion, Kimberley, and still trying to hold it in check and pretend it doesn’t exist. That it isn’t a part of you and yet how could your nature be anything else?’ He brushed a hand over her hair with a mocking smile. ‘Never get involved with a woman who has hair the colour of dragon’s breath.’
Kimberley lifted her chin and her green eyes flashed. ‘And never get involved with a man who has an ego the size of Brazil.’
He laughed. ‘Ours was never the most tranquil of relationships, was it meu amorzinho?’
Meu amorzinho. He’d always called her that and she’d loved hearing him speak in his native language. It had seemed so much more exotic than the English translation, ‘my little love’.
His unexpected laughter released some of the throbbing tension in the room and she felt the colour flood into her face as she remembered, too late, that she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to fight with him. She couldn’t afford to fight with him. ‘We both need to forget the past.’ Determined not to let him unsettle her, she took a deep breath and tried to find the tranquillity that usually came naturally to her. ‘Both of us have moved on. I’m not the same person any more.’
‘You’re exactly the same person, Kimberley.’ He strolled around her, like a jungle animal assessing its prey. ‘Inside, people never really change. It’s just the packaging that’s different. The way they present themselves to the world.’
Before she could guess his intention, he lifted a lean bronze hand and in a deft, skilful movement removed the clip from her hair.
She gasped a protest and clutched at the fiery mass that tumbled over her shoulders. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Altering the packaging. Reminding you who you really are under the costume you’re wearing.’ His burning gaze slid lazily down her body. ‘You come in here, suitably dressed to teach a class of schoolchildren or sort books in a library, that hot red hair all twisted away and tamed. On the outside you are all buttoned up and locked away, yet we both know what sort of person you are on the inside.’ His dark eyes fixed on hers and his voice was rich and seductive. ‘Passionate. Wild.’
His tongue rolled over the words, his accent more pronounced than usual, and she felt her stomach flip over and her knees weaken.
‘You’re wrong! That’s not who I am! You have no idea who I am.’ Despite her promise to herself that she’d remain cool, she couldn’t hold back the emotion. ‘Did you really think I’d be the same pathetic little girl you seduced all those years ago? Do you really think I haven’t changed?’
Despite her heated denials, she felt a flash of sexual awareness that appalled her and she squashed it down with grim determination.
She wasn’t going to let him do this to her again. She wasn’t going to feel anything.
She’d come here to tell him something she should have told him seven years ago, not to resurrect feelings that she’d taken years to bury.
‘You weren’t pathetic and neither,’ he said softly, touching a curl of fiery red hair, ‘did I seduce you, determined though you seem to be to believe that. Our passion was as mutual as it was hot, meu amorzinho. You were with me all the way.’ He said the words ‘all the way’ with a smooth, erotic emphasis that started a slow burn deep within her pelvis. ‘The only difference between us was that you were ashamed of how you felt. I assumed that maturity would allow you to embrace your passionate nature instead of rejecting it.’
To her horror she felt her body start to melt and her breathing grow shallow and she shrank away from him, desperate to stop the reaction.
How?
How, after all these years and all the thinking time she’d had, could she still react to this man?
Did she never learn?
And then she remembered that she had learned. The hard way. And it didn’t matter how her body responded to this man, this time her brain was in charge. She was older and more experienced and well able to ignore the insidious curl of sexual desire deep in her pelvis.
‘This isn’t what I came here for.’ She lifted a hand to her hair and smoothed it away from her face. ‘What happened between you and me isn’t important.’
‘So you keep saying. So what is important enough to bring you all the way back to Rio de Janeiro when you left and swore never to return, I wonder? Our golden beaches? Our dramatic mountains?’ His rich accent rolled over the words. ‘The addictive beat of the samba? I recall that evening that we danced on my terrace…’
He flicked memories in front of her like a slide show and she looked away for a moment, forcing herself to focus on something bland and inanimate, trying to dilute the disturbing images in her head. The chair drew the full force of her gaze while she composed herself and plucked up the courage to say what she had to say.
‘I want us to stop talking about the past.’ She paused for a moment and felt her knees turn to liquid. It was now. It had to be now. ‘I’m here because—’ Her voice cracked and she licked dry lips and tried again. ‘I’m trying to tell you—w-we had a son together, Luc, and he’s now six years old.’ Her heart pounded and her body trembled. ‘He’s six years old and his life is in danger. I’m here because I need your help. I’ve no one else to turn to.’
CHAPTER TWO
HOWcould silence seem so loud?
Was he ever going to speak?
Relief that she’d finally told him mingled with apprehension. What was he going to say? How was he going to react to the sudden discovery that he was a father?
‘Well, that’s inventive.’ His tone was flat and he sprawled in the nearest chair, his eyes veiled as he watched her, always the one in control, always the one calling the shots. ‘You certainly know how to keep a guy on his toes. I never know what you’re going to come up with next.’
Kimberley blinked, totally taken aback.
He didn’t believe her?
She’d prepared herself for anger and recrimination. She’d braced herself to be on the receiving end of his hot Brazilian temper. She’d been prepared to explain why she hadn’t told him seven years before. But it hadn’t once crossed her mind that he might not believe her.
‘You seriously think I’d joke about something like that?’
He gave a casual shrug. ‘I admit it’s in pretty poor taste, but some women will stoop to just about anything to get a man to fork out. And I presume that’s what you want? More money?’
It was exactly what she wanted but not for any of the reasons he seemed to be implying.
Her mouth opened and shut and she swallowed hard, totally out of her depth. She hadn’t even entertained the possibility that he wouldn’t believe her and she honestly didn’t know what to say next. She’d geared herself up for this moment and it wasn’t going according to her script.
‘Why wouldn’t you believe me?’
‘Possibly because women don’t suddenly turn up after seven years of silence and announce that they’re pregnant.’
‘I didn’t say I was p-pregnant,’ she stammered, appalled and frustrated that he refused to take her seriously. ‘I told you, he’s six. He was born precisely forty weeks after we had—after you—’ She broke off, blushing furiously, and his gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered and then lifted again.
‘After I had my wicked way with you? You’re so repressed you can’t even bring yourself to say the word “sex”.’ His dark eyes mocked her gently and she bit her lip, wishing she was more sophisticated—better equipped to deal with this sort of situation. Verbal sparring wasn’t her forte and yet she was dealing with a master.
He’d wronged her and yet suddenly she felt as though she should be apologising. ‘You’re probably wondering why I didn’t tell you this before—’
‘The thought had crossed my mind.’
‘You threw me out, Luc,’ she reminded him in a shaky voice, ‘and you refused to see me or take my calls. You treated me abominably.’
‘Relationships end every day of the week,’ he drawled in a tone of total indifference. ‘Stop being so dramatic.’
‘I was pregnant!’ She rose to her feet, shaking with emotion, goaded into action by his total lack of remorse. ‘I decided that you ought to know about your child. I tried to tell you so many times but you cut me out of your life. And you hurt me. You hurt me so badly that I decided that no child of mine was going to have you as a father. And that’s why I didn’t tell you.’ She broke off, waiting for an angry reaction on his part, waiting for him to storm and rant that she hadn’t told him sooner.
Instead he raised an eyebrow expectantly. ‘Seven years and this is the best you can come up with?’
She stared at him blankly, unable to comprehend his callous indifference. ‘Do you think I made that decision lightly? Have you any idea what making a decision like that does to a person? I felt screwed up with guilt, Luc! I was depriving my son of a father and I knew that one day I’d have to answer to him for that.’ She broke off and dragged a shuddering breath into her starving lungs. ‘I have felt guilty every single day for the last seven years. Every single day.’
‘Yes, well, that’s another woman thing—guilt,’ Luc said helpfully, ‘and I suppose that all this guilt suddenly overwhelmed you and that’s why you’ve suddenly decided to share your joyous news with me?’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe you’re behaving like this. Do you know how hard it was for me to come here today? Have you any idea?’ He was even more unfeeling than she’d believed possible. How could she feel guilt? She should be proud that she’d protected her son from this man. But the time for protection had passed and, unfortunately for everyone, she now needed his help. She couldn’t afford the luxury of cutting him out of her life. ‘What do I have to do to prove that I’m telling the truth?’
Luc turned his head and glanced towards the door expectantly. ‘Produce him.’ He lifted broad shoulders in a careless shrug. ‘That should do the trick.’
She looked at him in disbelief. ‘You seriously think I’d drag a six-year-old all the way to Brazil to meet a man who doesn’t even know he’s a father? This is a huge thing, Luc. We need to discuss how we’re going to handle it. How we’re going to tell him. It needs to be a joint decision.’
There was a sardonic gleam in his dark eyes. ‘Well, that’s going to be a problem, isn’t it? I don’t do joint decisions. Never have, never will. I’m unilateral all the way, meu amorzinho. But in this case it really doesn’t matter because we both know that this so called “son” of yours, oh, sorry—’ he corrected himself with an apologetic smile and a lift of his hand ‘—I should say son of “ours”, shouldn’t I?—is a figment of your greedy, money-grabbing imagination. So it would be impossible for you to produce him. Unless you hired someone to play the part. Have you?’
Kimberley gaped at him.
He was an utter bastard!
How could she have forgotten just how cold and unfeeling he was? What a low opinion of women he had? How could she have thought, even for a moment, that she’d made a mistake in not persisting in her attempts to tell him that she was expecting his child? At the time she’d decided that she could never expose a child of hers to a man like him and, listening to him now, she knew that it had definitely been the right decision.
People had criticised her behind her back, she knew that, but they were people who came from safe, loving homes—homes where the father came home at night and cared about what happened to his family.
Luc wasn’t like that. Luc didn’t care about anything or anyone except himself.
He was just like her father and she knew only too well what it was like to grow up with a parent like that. She’d been right to protect her child from him and if it hadn’t been for her current crisis she would have continued to keep Luc out of his life.
But fate had intervened and she’d decided that she had no choice but to tell him. He had to help her. He had to take some responsibility, however distasteful he found the prospect of parenthood.
But at the moment he didn’t even believe that his son existed—
He seemed to think that their child was some sort of figment of her greedy imagination.
She sank on to the nearest chair, bemused and sickened by his less than flattering assessment of her. ‘Why do you have such a low opinion of me?’
‘Well, let’s see—’he gave a patient smile, as if he was dealing with someone very, very stupid ‘—it could have something to do with the volume of money you spent after we broke up. Or the fact that you’re now stooping to depths previously unheard of in order to sue me for maintenance. Not the actions of someone destined for sainthood, wouldn’t you agree?’
She stared at him blankly. Her mind didn’t work along the same lines as his and she was struggling to keep up. ‘I’m not suing you for maintenance.’
He gave an impatient frown. ‘You want me to pay money for the child.’
She licked her lips. ‘Yes, but not to me and it’s nothing to do with maintenance. I can support our son. I took the money from you because I was pregnant, alone and very scared and I couldn’t think how I could possibly bring a child into the world when I didn’t even have somewhere to live. I used your money to buy a small flat. If I hadn’t done that I would have had to find a job and put the baby into a nursery, and I wanted to care for him myself. And I bought a few essentials.’ She gave a tiny frown, momentarily distracted. ‘I had no idea how many things a baby needed. I bought a cot and a pushchair, bedding, nappies. I didn’t use any of the money on myself. I know that technically it was stealing, but I didn’t know what else to do so I told myself it was maintenance. If I’d chased you through the courts you would have had to pay a lot more to support Rio.’
One dark eyebrow swooped upwards. ‘Rio?’
She blushed. ‘I chose to name him after the city where he was conceived.’
‘How quaint.’ Luc’s tone was a deep, dark drawl loaded with undertones of menace. ‘So if I’ve already paid for the pushchair and the nappies, what else is there? He needs a new school coat, perhaps? His feet have grown and his shoes no longer fit?’
He still didn’t believe her.
‘Last week I received a kidnap threat.’ Her voice shook as she said the words. Perhaps the truth would shake him out of his infuriating cool. ‘Someone out there knows about our son. They know you’re a father. And they’re threatening Rio’s life.’
There was a long silence while he watched her, his dark eyes fixed on her pale face.
They were sitting too close to each other. Much too close.
Her knee brushed against his and she felt the insidious warmth of awareness spread through her body. Against her will, her eyes slid to the silken dark hairs visible on his wrist and then rested on his strong fingers. Those long, clever fingers—
Her body flooded with heat as she remembered how those fingers had introduced her to intimacies that she’d never before imagined and she shifted slightly in her chair. His eyes detected the movement. Instantly his gaze trapped hers and the temperature in the room rose still further.
‘Show me the letter.’
Did she imagine the sudden rough tone to his voice? Relieved that she could finally meet one of his demands, she delved into her bag and dragged out the offending letter, dropping it on the table next to him as if it might bite her.
He extended a hand and lifted the letter, no visible sense of urgency apparent in his movements. He flipped it open and read it, his handsome face inscrutable.
‘Interesting.’ He dropped the letter back on the table. ‘So I’m expected to shell out five million dollars and then everyone lives happily ever after? Have I got that right?’
She stared at him, stunned, more than a little taken aback that he didn’t seem more concerned for the welfare of his son. Still, at least now he’d seen the evidence, he’d know she was telling the truth.
‘Do you think paying is the wrong approach? You think we should go to the police?’ She looked at him anxiously and rubbed her fingers across her forehead, trying to ease the pain that pulsed behind her temples. She’d gone over and over it in her head so many times, trying to do the right thing. ‘I have thought about it, obviously, but you can see from the letter what he threatened to do if I spoke to the police. I know everyone always says you shouldn’t pay blackmailers, but that’s very easy to say when it isn’t your child in danger and—’ her voice cracked ‘—and I can’t play games with his life, Luc. He’s everything I have.’
She looked at the strong, hard lines of Luc’s face and suddenly wanted him to step in and save her the way he’d saved her that first night they’d met. He was hard and ruthless and he had powerful connections and she knew instinctively that he would be able to handle this situation if he chose to. He could make it go away.
‘I think involving the police would not be a good idea,’ he assured her, rising to his feet in a lithe, athletic movement and pacing across the office to the window. ‘Police in any country don’t generally appreciate having their time wasted.’
Her eyes widened. ‘But why would this waste their time?’
He shot her an impatient look. ‘Because we both know that this is all part of your elaborate plan to extract more money from me. I suppose I should just be grateful it took you seven years to work your way through the last lot.’ His voice was harsh and contemptuous. ‘It was a master stroke suggesting we contact the police because it does add credibility to the situation, but we both know that would have proved somewhat embarrassing if they’d agreed to be involved.’
She stared at him in stunned silence. ‘You still think I’m making this whole situation up, don’t you?’
‘Look at it from my point of view,’ he advised silkily. ‘You turn up after seven years, demanding money to help a child I know nothing about and whose existence you cannot prove. If he’s my child, why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant seven years ago?’
‘I’ve already explained!’ She ran a hand over the back of her neck to relieve the tension. ‘Over and over again I rang and came to your office and you refused to see me. You wouldn’t even talk to me.’
He’d cut her dead and she’d thought she’d die from the pain. She’d missed him so much.
‘Our relationship was over and talking about it after the event isn’t my forte.’ Luc gave a careless shrug. ‘Talking is something else that’s more of a woman thing than a man thing. A bit like guilt, I suppose.’
‘Well, just because you’re totally lacking in communication skills, don’t blame me now for the fact you weren’t told about your child!’ Her emotions rumbled like a volcano on the point of eruption. ‘I tried to tell you, but your listening skills need serious attention.’
His eyes hardened. ‘It’s a funny thing, but I always find that I become slightly hard of hearing when people are begging me for money.’
She stared at him helplessly. ‘He’s your son—’
He held out a hand. ‘So show me a photograph.’
‘Sorry?’
‘If he exists, then at least show me a photograph.’
She felt as though she was on the witness stand being questioned by a particularly nasty prosecutor. ‘I—I don’t have one with me. I was in a panic and I didn’t think to bring one.’ But she should have. Should have known Luc would ask to at least see a picture of his child. ‘I wasn’t expecting to have to prove his existence, so no, I don’t have a photograph.’
One dark eyebrow swooped upwards and his hand fell to his side. ‘What a loving mother you must be.’ His tone was dangerously soft. ‘You don’t even carry a photograph of your own child.’
She exploded with exasperation. ‘I don’t need to carry a photograph of him because I’m with him virtually every minute of every day and have been since he was born! I used your money to buy a little flat so that I could stay at home and look after him. And now he’s older I work from home so that I don’t miss a single minute of being with him. I don’t need photographs! I have the real thing!’
He inclined his head and a ghost of a smile touched his firm mouth. ‘Good answer.’
She shook her head slowly, helpless to know what to do to convince him. ‘You think I’m making all this up just to get money for myself?’
‘Frankly?’ The smile vanished. ‘I think you’re a greedy, money-grabbing bitch who wants five million dollars and is prepared to go to most distasteful lengths to achieve that goal.’ His eyes scanned her face. ‘And you can abandon the wounded look—it’s less convincing once you’ve already ripped a guy off big time.’
Her mouth fell open and her body chilled with shock. ‘Why would you think that about me?’
‘Because I already know you’re greedy,’ he said helpfully, checking his watch. ‘And now you’ll have to excuse me because I have a Japanese delegation waiting in another meeting room who are equally eager to drain my bank account. If they’re even half as inventive as you’ve been then I’m in for an interesting afternoon.’
She stared at him in horrified disbelief.
Was that it?
Was he really going to walk out on her?
She knew instinctively that if he left the room now, she wouldn’t see him again. Gaining access to Luciano Santoro was an honour extended only to a privileged few and she sensed that she was on borrowed time.
‘No!’ She stood up quickly and her voice rang with panic. Her feelings didn’t matter any more. Nothing mattered except the safety of her son. ‘You can’t just send me away! I’m telling the truth and I’ll prove it if I have to. I can get Rio on the phone, I can arrange for you to talk to the school, I’ll do anything, absolutely anything, but you have to give me the money. I’m begging you, Luc. Please lend me the money. I’ll pay you back somehow, but if you don’t give it to me I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know where else to turn—’
She broke off, her slim shoulders drooped as the fight drained out of her, and she slumped into a chair.
He wasn’t going to help her. The responsibility of being a single parent had always felt enormous, but never more so than now, when her child’s safety was threatened.
She wanted to lean on someone. She wanted to share the burden.
Luc stilled and his dark eyes narrowed. ‘For five million dollars you’d do absolutely anything?’
There was something in his tone that made her uneasy but she didn’t hesitate. ‘I’m a mother and what mother wouldn’t agree to anything if it meant keeping her child safe?’
‘Well, that’s a very interesting offer.’ His eyes scanned her face thoughtfully. ‘I’ll think about it.’
She bit her lip and clasped her hands in her lap. ‘I need an answer quickly.’
‘This is Brazil, meu amorzinho,’ he reminded gently, stretching lean muscular legs out in front of him, ‘and you of all people should know that we don’t do anything quickly.’
She caught her breath, trapped by the burning heat in his eyes and the tense, pulsing atmosphere in the room. All at once she was transported back to long, lazy afternoons making love on his bed, in the swimming pool—afternoons that had stretched into evenings that had stretched into mornings.