Illegitimate Tycoon (14 page)

 
          
With
the last of her makeup expertly applied to where it looked as if she wasn’t
wearing any at all, she dabbed the perfume she was promoting between her
breasts, at her nape and on her wrists. The heady fragrance warmed on her skin,
the intensity of it more pronounced, more haunting, than its name.

 
          
“Have
I ever told you I hate wearing a tux?” Rafael said as he stepped into the
bedroom.

 
          
“Yes,
every time we’ve attended a black-tie event.”

 
          
She
smiled and reached for the diamond Y necklace Rafael had given her for
Christmas last year, a gift that had been delivered to her holiday shoot in
Italy by courier. She’d been shocked by his extravagance, yet deeply touched by
the gift and the accompanying note.

 
          
She’d
called him immediately to thank him, and had been relieved to know he’d liked
the watch she’d given him. And during that brief conversation she’d felt
suddenly sad and alone, for being apart from the man she loved was no way to
spend a holiday.

 
          
Shoving
that sad fact from her mind, she concentrated on securing the clasp, on the
feel of the platinum and diamonds against her skin. This would be the first
time she’d worn it, and the weight and size of the pendant was perfect, the
blue and brilliant diamonds near blinding when the light hit them just right.

 
          
After
adding diamond earrings that dangled along her neck, she turned to where she’d
dropped her shoes. And her heart nearly stopped beating.

 
          
Her
imagination didn’t begin to capture the raw power and indisputable status of
her husband. He could easily go toe to toe with any of the top male models with
his devastating good looks, exquisite physique and unhurried predatory stride
that brought all that pent-up need coursing back to the surface.

 
          
His
dark wavy hair was slicked back to reveal a strong profile that was classic and
intense. If he’d just stop scowling …

 
          
Her
gaze dropped to his hands, busily fumbling to fasten his tie. He was making a
knotted mess of it, and that realization brought back old memories of her
helping him with this task many times before.

 
          
Clearly
he’d yet to master it! That fact popped the tension that had bubbled up in her
earlier.

 
          
She
slipped her feet into her stilettos, crossed to him and pushed his hands aside.
“Let me help you before you strangle yourself.”

 
          
He
flung his arms to the side, his expression one of fierce self-disgust. “Whoever
invented a bow tie should be hanged.”

 
          
She
tried not to smile but her lips twitched anyway, for she’d never seen her
strong powerful husband become so flustered over something as simple as a tie.
She made quick work of loosening the knots and starting over. In less than a
minute she’d fastened the perfect bow for him.

 
          
“There,”
she said, giving his muscled chest a pat.

 
          
With
effort she stepped back from him, for one pat called for two. One more
lingering touch. Like a caress.

 
          
He
turned to the mirror but his fierce scowl didn’t lessen a fraction. “You always
make this look so simple.”

 
          
“It’s
really not that complicated. A shoot I was on long ago required me to remove a
gentleman’s tie and put it on,” she said. “Since we had to do many sessions to
get it right, the lesson stuck with me.”

 
          
“You
undressed a gentleman?”

 
          
“I
took his tie off,” she said, surprised Rafael was still jealous of her.

 
          
“How
did I miss that ad?”

 
          
It
took her a moment to realize he wasn’t joking. That realization totally blew
her away, for it implied that he’d seen the bulk of her spreads. That he had
taken an interest in what she’d done.

 
          
The
lesson of learning to tie a proper bow was all but forgotten, for it had
transpired in the waning days of her reign as the waif model. Back when she was
a victim of anorexia, barely eating enough to stay alive in a desperate attempt
to stop her bosom from expanding and her hips from rounding.

 
          
If
she hadn’t been so naive, perhaps she would have realized that her efforts were
in vain. That all she would accomplish would be to jeopardize her health.

 
          
She’d
had a lot to think about during her long recovery—a lot to learn about herself
and her controlling mother. Her road to recovery had been arduous and doubts
about her ability to stage a successful comeback had plagued her night and day.

 
          
But
she’d pushed forward. She’d fired the agent who had listened to Leila’s mother
instead of her, and she began ignoring her mother’s demands.

 
          
With
her new curves and determination, she set her sights on becoming the next hot
model that woman ached to emulate and men longed to bed. But she hadn’t
realized she’d truly succeeded as a woman until she’d met Rafael.

 
          
She
glanced at him under the sweep of her lashes. Such a handsome man. Such a
determined one.

 
          
He’d
made her feel beautiful from that first moment they met. He’d turned her into a
sensual woman.

 
          
Could
he turn her into a mother as well? Dare she hope it was possible to overcome
the fear choking her?

 
          
Time
would tell. She only hoped it didn’t run out for them before she could find her
inner strength.

 
          
The
next five days were a grueling repeat of elegant premieres, demanding parties,
personal interviews for him and fascinating photo shoots for her. Rafael had
never shied away from the limelight or the chance to tout his innovations, but
he found little enjoyment doing the same thing over and over.

 
          
The
days were incredibly long. The nights achingly short and a torment for him to
endure.

 
          
The
king-size bed afforded them ample space, yet in the velvet hush of night he
would awake from the sleep he’d finally found when she would curl up against
him. Any of those nights he could have taken her, aroused her with hot kisses
and hotter caresses until she begged for his possession.

 
          
But
he wouldn’t take her by surprise. He wanted her awake. Willing. Wanting him as
much as he wanted her. So far that hadn’t happened. So far they hadn’t gone
beyond a few kisses, hot caresses and scorching looks.

 
          
But
then her demanding schedule exhausted her. He’d seen it in her eyes, in the
weary steps she took once they were in their room alone.

 
          
He
knew she needed to get away from the hustle of endless shoots, interviews and
the constant expectation of the perfumery to tout their fragrance along with
the film. He knew, too, that she wouldn’t rest on her own.

 
          
So
he began stealing time from his schedule so he could whisk her away from the
crowds. Time hadn’t allowed them to do more than slip away for a few hours.
Shopping. Sightseeing. And occasionally indulging in a tempting dessert at one
of the many cafés which he considered a personal boon.

 
          
Because
today was the last of her shoots, he’d driven them to Nice where they’d dined
on a Provençal dinner of salt-crusted sea bass served with a violet artichoke
salad.

 
          
For
dessert, he ordered a tiramisu that he and Leila were sharing, just as they’d
done when they were young lovers. When sharing was all he could afford and only
then just barely.

 
          
“You
are a very bad influence on me,” she said as she took another taste of the
feather-light dessert, her lips closing around the silver spoon while her eyes
closed in what was clearly gastronomic ecstasy.

 
          
“I
am a good influence on you, because I let you be yourself,
querida,”
he said, and they both knew it was the truth whether she
would admit it or not.

 
          
She
smiled and looked away, but not before he caught the glimpse of sadness in her
hazel eyes. He knew before she spoke that their lighthearted jaunt was ending.

 
          
“My
agent told me during the last wardrobe change that I have been offered a
contract with a top designer to be their model for their spring selection,” she
said. “It’s a fabulous opportunity that I was afraid I wouldn’t land.”

 
          
He
waited for her to expound, to say how much she regretted having to turn them
down, before he realized the obvious. “You’ve accepted the offer.”

 
          
“Yes.
My agent and I will have to go over details point by point before I sign,” she
said, excitement ringing in her voice, “but we’re tentatively scheduled to
begin shooting in a little over a month.”

 
          
Damn!
He’d been afraid something like this would happen, that a designer or company
would dangle the right carrot in front of her to tempt her from him again.

 
          
But
he’d also thought she was already contracted for a shoot after the film
festival and asked her just that.

 
          
“I
was, but it was with a local designer and would only have lasted a couple of
days,” she said, carefully folding her linen and laying it beside her place. “This
offer exceeds anything that has been sent my way in far too long. The profits
from it alone will establish a trust that will keep the free clinic afloat in
lean times.”

 
          
The
clinic! That was clearly where her heart rested.

 
          
It
was quite obvious to him that she’d jumped at this chance, not for the small
fortune she’d make but for the escape it offered her.

 
          
The
hazy picture of family that had begun to form in his mind blurred to gray. The
pinch of profound loneliness that had tormented him since childhood grew into a
hollow ache. Would he forever be without family? A real home? Love?

 
          
Rafael
shrugged into his jacket, his anger and hurt banked under a careful mask. “Congratulations.”

 
          
“Thank
you.”

 
          
His
hungry gaze swept over his breathtakingly gorgeous wife, and his blood heated.
He had waited long enough. They might not be starting a family now, but he
wanted her in his bed. And he’d have her there tonight.

 
          
The
premiere of an animated feature must have been charming, for the majority of
the audience laughed uproariously. But Rafael found it difficult to concentrate
on anything but the woman beside him.

 
          
When
he’d gone to Aruba to join her in March, he’d hoped they could start their
family then. Of course he’d had no idea she’d suffered a miscarriage six months
earlier, that she was nowhere physically or mentally near ready to begin a
family.

 
          
“Is
that all you think of anymore?” she’d asked as they lay together replete after
their lovemaking.

 
          
It
had been his main train of thought for far longer than he cared to admit, and
for the life of him, he hadn’t been able to explain the restlessness in him. He
just ached to have that close connection, which he’d been denied as a child,
with someone.

 
          
The
past year had been a chaotic yet lonely grind. He’d realized then just how much
he missed and loved Leila. How much he wanted to move their marriage to the
next level. Family.