Illegitimate Tycoon (21 page)

 
          
He
spread his arms wide. “I am merely doing what I promised by taking care of you
and our babies.”

 
          
“For
now. But I know you.” She lifted a hand, holding her thumb and forefinger a
millimeter apart. “You are this close to turning into a tyrant.”

 
          
The
lightly said quip was too damned close to the horror he’d lived with all his
life. His father had been a brutal autocrat and mentally unstable thanks to an
indulgence in booze and drugs.

 
          
Though
Rafael had never spent a moment in the man’s company, he’d lived with the fear
that those dark traits would show up in him one day. For Leila to suggest such
a thing, even in jest, jarred him.

 
          
He
took a deep breath, then another, determined to keep a clear head. “Why would
you need to fly back to California?”

 
          
“I
have a doctor’s appointment that I can’t miss.”

 
          
“There
are equally qualified obstetricians in São Paulo,” he said. “Since you will be
living here, wouldn’t it be wise to align yourself with one now?”

 
          
Leila
frowned and gave the room a quick glance. Looking flustered. Or was that
cornered?

 
          
She
bit her lip, then huffed a breath and met his gaze. “I also have a shoot next
week. My final one that wraps up this contract.”

 
          
Was
she crazy? “I forbid you to work now that you are pregnant!”

 
          
“You
forbid me? That is not your decision to make, Rafael!” she said, her hazel eyes
as hard and glittering as cut ambers now.

 
          
“The
hell it isn’t! These are my children you carry and you are my wife!” He raked
his fingers through his hair and swore. “My God! You just came here crying,
worried sick that you would do something to harm our babies. And yet you insist
on working?”

 
          
She
pressed her palms to her head and let out a cry of frustration. “Stop it! I’ve
discussed the dangers of finishing this contract, and my doctor assures me that
I am fine as long as I stay hydrated, am careful to rest between takes and don’t
take risks on the set.”

 
          
“I
don’t like it, Leila.”

 
          
“I
know, but hear me out.” She crossed to him slowly, eyes locked on his. He read
the fear and worry and love in her gaze as she slipped her arms around him. “My
agent was able to convince the designers to move the dates on the campaign so I
could work without great risk at this point. Rafael, the shoot will only last a
week, maybe less. I’ll be close to my doctor there.”

 
          
He
didn’t like this one bit, but all the arguing in the world was not going to
change her mind. Short of locking her in a room, he couldn’t hold her here.

 
          
“All
right. When are you flying back to L.A.?”

 
          
“Tomorrow
morning.”

 
          
“Fine,”
he bit out, grabbing his mobile and punching in numbers. Distancing himself
from her in space and emotion. “I’ll go with you.”

 
          
“That
isn’t necessary …”

 
          
He
slashed the air with one hand, cutting off whatever she was about to say. “We
will never be apart again, not even for a day. I won’t stand on the outside and
watch my family live away from me! My children will know me.”

 
          
“You
think I plan to stay there without you?” she asked, her brow drawn. “That I’d
separate you from the children?”

 
          
He
clamped his jaw tight, his cheeks burning from the memory of his youth. She
didn’t know all the details. Couldn’t imagine the hell and shame he’d endured.

 
          
“Rafael,
what’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

 
          
He
shrugged off her concern, determined to valiantly keep his shame hidden. “It’s
nothing.”

 
          
“Yes,
it is. Please. Tell me what is haunting you so,” she coaxed, her hands light on
his back, her breath warm on his skin. “I’m your wife. There’s nothing you can’t
tell me. Nothing.”

 
          
He
hung his head, eyes pinched shut. She was right, but knowing that didn’t make
it any easier to unburden his soul.

 
          
“You
don’t know how hard this is,” he said, afraid to give voice to his fears.

 
          
“Then
tell me so I understand.” She slipped her arms around him, and warmth seeped
into him, thawing the icy dam holding his past hostage.

 
          
“You
know my father disowned me,” he said, his fingers digging into the window
casing so hard that they went numb. “That he barred me from setting foot in
Wolfe Manor.”

 
          
“I
remember you telling me,” she said, her hands soothing. “But your eldest
brother defied him and included you with your brothers and sister.”

 
          
He
bobbed his head, forever grateful to Jacob for that and so much more. Jacob had
done more than include him. He’d left his own inheritance for Rafael upon
Rafael’s eighteenth birthday.

 
          
Rafael
had used it wisely, eternally grateful to his brother for giving him the
opportunity to make a better life for himself and his mother. Rafael had longed
to thank Jacob personally, but after William Wolfe’s death Jacob had suddenly
left Wolfe Manor without a word. Rafael hadn’t seen his elder brother until a
number of years later at a computer and technology conference in Rio.

 
          
Though
he’d been unable to catch his brother that night, he’d eventually tracked him
down. Their initial meeting after so many years apart had been tense at first.

 
          
But
as Rafael had talked about their siblings’ successes and his own rapidly
expanding company, Jacob had acted like his old fun self. At least to a degree,
he remembered with a frown. For Jacob had shared little of his own life.

 
          
And
to Rafael’s frustration, Jacob had refused to take back the fortune he’d given
to Rafael so long ago. “Give it to charity,” Jacob had said, sending his love
on to Rafael’s mother before he disappeared again.

 
          
One
day he’d repay Jacob for his largess. One day.

 
          
He
shook off the memory and focused on Leila again.

 
          
“Because
of William Wolfe’s refusal to acknowledge me or to even lend financial support,
my mother was forced to work two jobs,” he said, again telling her what she
already knew as he eased into the subject that tormented him. “She was rarely
home. Her solution to keeping me occupied and out of trouble with the wrong
crowd was by supplying me with outdated computers to tinker with.”

 
          
It
was then that he discovered what he loved most. What he could do better than
anyone. It hadn’t bothered him when he discovered those early computers were
the castoffs of his half brothers. To him they were golden opportunities to
learn, to let his imagination soar.

 
          
“She
obviously succeeded,” Leila said.

 
          
He
heaved a troubled sigh and faced her then. “She did all she could, Leila. One
year she scrimped and saved so she could give me twenty pounds sterling for
Christmas, but the real surprise was when she took me to London for a day so I
could see the holiday finery and buy whatever I wanted.”

 
          
“That’s
a beautiful memory,” she said.

 
          
“It
would have been,” he said, the old pain of rejection returning full force. “Except,
we walked by Hartington’s, and there in the front window was a lavish Christmas
display with the latest toys being enjoyed by my brothers and sister.”

 
          
“Your
father’s store.”

 
          
He
managed a curt nod, seeing it all unfold as if it were yesterday. The cold. The
pristine sprinkling of snow.

 
          
The
family he longed to be part of together. Happy.

 
          
Just
like then, the pain of rejection and hatred sliced through him with the
precision of a honed blade, leaving him emotionally bleeding.

 
          
“My
father was there as well, standing to the side of the display, watching his
children perform for the crowds gathered outside.” He swallowed hard, but the
bitter memory lingered on his tongue, the despondency and wretched exclusion
that engulfed him then was still almost unbearable. “When he saw me and my
mother standing there in the cold and snow, his eyes glittered with hatred
while his hard mouth twisted into a cruel smile.”

 
          
Leila
let out a cry of despair. “How could a father treat his child so abominably?”

 
          
It
was a question that Rafael had asked himself thousands of times but could never
answer. His father had been a victim to violent mood swings egged on by drink
and later drugs, he’d discovered.

 
          
That
realization kept Rafael from envying his siblings for what they had, for they
had to suffer their father’s wrath daily. When Jacob passed his inheritance
down to Rafael, his mother had bought him the best computer on the market.

 
          
And
in two months he’d channeled all his past hurt and shame into a wildly creative
endeavor and reprogrammed his old computer to make it even better.

 
          
There
had been no stopping him from achieving what he wanted from then on.

 
          
There
wouldn’t be now either.

 
          
He
turned and cupped her narrow shoulders, staring down into her worried face and
thinking he was the luckiest man on earth to have found her. “That is why I
refuse to be an absentee father, or allow us to live apart.”

 
          
“Oh,
Rafael! Can’t you see you are nothing like that man?”

 
          
“For
now. But, Leila, if those horrid traits ever emerge in me, promise me you will
pack up our babies and leave me. Get as far from me as you can and don’t look
back.”

 
          
Her
face bleached of color, like driftwood left too long on a sun-baked beach. “I
can’t do—”

 
          
“Promise
me!”

 
          
One
tear slipped from her wide eyes, then another. “I promise. But I know it will
never
come to that.”

 
          
He
managed a stage smile, wishing he had just an ounce of her confidence.

 
          
WHILE
Leila slept during the flight back to Los Angeles, Rafael tended to business.
Delegating was not something he did willingly or often, yet this time he had no
choice.

 
          
He
had made the decision to be with Leila this week, even though he had a crucial
meeting planned. His family came first now.

 
          
With
a few keystrokes, he’d placed his next in command in charge of the meeting. The
next hour had been spent sending accompanying documents for the meeting with a
lengthy letter detailing Rafael’s stand on the next big step the company was to
take.

 
          
He’d
never left such a monumental decision in an employee’s hands before. He damned
sure wasn’t comfortable doing so now.