Illegitimate Tycoon (22 page)

 
          
But
a greater risk was at stake here.

 
          
His
wife. His children.
His family!

 
          
He
was ever mindful that Leila had gone through part of this before. Alone.

 
          
Try
as he might, he couldn’t forget the grief in her eyes when she spoke of losing
their first baby. Of her very real fears now. She’d taken the knife of trust
and sliced open an emotional vein, bleeding onto his heart, his soul.

 
          
He
couldn’t fail her. Fail them.

 
          
Rafael
closed the browser on his PDA and exhaled heavily.

 
          
He
was certain Leila had been honest with him. That she held no more secrets. No
more demons.

 
          
If
only he could say the same!

 
          
He’d
yet to tell her the whole truth surrounding his birth. A fact he’d learned at
the tender age of eight when cruel villagers had revealed his mother’s dark
secret—that William Wolfe had paid her to have sex with him.

 
          
He’d
not been entirely sure what that had meant at the time. When he’d asked his
mother, she’d flushed and told him to forget about it, but he’d not been able
to.

 
          
In
time he learned what being paid to sleep with a man signified. A painfully
demoralizing lesson that he’d never forgotten. That had left him hating his
mother for nearly a year. Hating her nearly as much as he hated the brutally
cruel William Wolfe!

 
          
Yet you learned to trust your mother again,
to understand her reasoning. To be proud of her for

 
          
doing what she had to do, knowing it would
mark her for life
.

 
          
And
what of Leila? She had deceived him by keeping her miscarriage secret. Yet his
conscience was quick to remind him that he was just as much at fault for
leaving her alone.

 
          
He
drew in a slow deep breath and then expelled his pent-up tension in one long
shuttering exhalation. The lack of sleep and emotional stress were playing hell
with his mind.

 
          
He
glanced at the woman softly dozing beside him and felt his heart warm even as
his gut clenched with concern. If he lost her and their babies, he’d never
forgive himself.

 
          
Leila’s
mobile began singing a haunting melody by a popular Celtic singer that
disrupted the silence. Even though he found the music appealing, he was annoyed
that the call would rob her of much-needed sleep.

 
          
Mouthing
a curse, he followed the direction of the music to find her mobile was quite
visible in her open bag beside her chair. He didn’t hesitate to reach down to
mute it. But he hadn’t realized that in grabbing her phone, he’d pulled out a
scrap of paper too.

 
          
With
her phone now silent and returned to her bag, he retrieved the note that had
dropped on the floor. A clinic’s name was jotted on it with a Canadian address.

 
          
He
certainly didn’t recognize the place. Yet the hair on his nape stood on end
just the same.

 
          
She
had a Californian doctor. Why would she need one in Canada as well? Was there
another shoot planned there that she’d neglected to tell him about?

 
          
In
a matter of seconds, he’d tapped the clinic’s name into his web browser. Two
things happened at once.

 
          
The
jet hit a pocket of air and dropped a jarring degree in altitude, waking Leila
with a startled cry. And his browser window opened to reveal that the clinic
was one that specialized in abortion.

 
          
A
red cloud of rage drifted over him.

 
          
Had
her paralyzing fear and grief convinced her that this was a possibility? Had
she considered ridding herself of their babies?

 
          
“I
hope we’re nearly there,” Leila said, oblivious to his darkening mood.

 
          
He
cut her a sharp look and had the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. “Why are
you carrying around the name of an abortion clinic? Were you thinking of doing
this vile thing?”

 
          
Her
mouth worked, but the only sound that came out was a sputtering moan that was
too high-pitched and too shaky. “My agent gave me the name of that clinic in
case I wanted to pursue that option. I’d forgotten I even had it.”

 
          
It
galled him that she’d sought her agent’s advice when she should have come to
him immediately! Okay, so she had come to him in the end. But what if she hadn’t?
What if she’d been pressured into doing the unthinkable because of her damn
career?

 
          
He
remembered well what she’d told him of her first rise to fame in modeling. That
when her waif image began changing as she matured her mother and agent had
taught her how to control her meals to the extreme. How she had often binged on
food as she had been so hungry, before purging herself and then starving
herself for days. How they had both nearly killed her.

 
          
“Did
you even consider this?” he asked.

 
          
She
reeled back as if he had slapped her. “That you would ask such a question
proves you don’t know me at all!”

 
          
He
stiffened, ready to argue that he did know her. And in that split second he saw
a distorted image of himself, railing like a crazed man consumed with rage.
Like his father?

 
          
The
comparison was sobering. Chilling. He was shamed at his own actions.

 
          
“The
greater question to ask is why is that note in your hands?” Leila asked. “Did
you search my purse? Do you distrust me that much that you have to look through
my possessions as if I were a rebellious teenager? “

 
          
“The
note fell on the floor when I pulled your phone out to silence it.”

 
          
She
simply stared at him, as if expecting more.

 
          
He
swore, not at her but at himself. “I’m sorry,
querida.”

 
          
Her
shoulders bowed, and she almost seemed to cave in on herself. Before he could
reach out to support her, she stiffened in her seat.

 
          
“After
all I’ve told you about losing our first baby, how could you think for one
moment that I’d do something like that?” she asked.

 
          
This
was the steel he’d recognized in Leila from the moment he’d met her. A core of
strength that hinted at a young woman who had escaped her humble beginnings and
had seen more than she should have seen. Who’d been scarred by her past, much
like he’d been emotionally scarred.

 
          
Yet
he, in his arrogance and shock, had lashed out first. All his old doubts and
fears that he’d become a monster reared its head. Yet he refused to give them
breath. Refused to allow that fear to suffocate him again.

 
          
He
reached over and cupped Leila’s silken cheek, and breathed a sigh of relief
when she didn’t pull away from him. “I only wanted you to rest,
querida.”

 
          
“You
have a strange way of showing concern.”

 
          
For
a moment he thought she’d say more, but she shook her head and closed her eyes,
shutting him out as securely as if she’d slammed a door in his face. His face
burned, as did his conscience.

 
          
Everything
he’d ever wanted had been placed before him now. Yet here he was, being an
overbearing, arrogant ass, interrogating her over an address he’d found in her
purse. Assuming the worst of her instead of trusting her.

 
          
“I
had to know the truth,” he said.

 
          
Again
she didn’t reply. Didn’t so much as look his way.

 
          
He
swore, not waiting for his jet to taxi to a stop before ripping off his seat
belt. So far he’d handled this very badly.

 
          
He
knelt beside her chair and took her stiff hands in his, his gut clenching as
she trembled. “Don’t shut me out,
querida.”

 
          
She
shook her head and he caught the telling quiver of her lower lip. “I don’t want
to, Rafael, but when you act so strong and dominant, I instinctively rebel
against you. You cannot control me, Rafael.”

 
          
He
downed his head and sighed, for her pregnancy seemed to bringing out the worst
in him. It shamed him. Enraged him to be this way with her.

 
          
“I
only want to protect you and our babies. It is clear I failed you before,” he
said, well aware he needed to calm the storm brewing in her soul.

 
          
“I
won’t fail you again. Tomorrow you will go to your shoot and I will escort you
to the location and will simply be a quiet observer. No control.”

 
          
She
cast him a wary look. “Okay.”

 
          
Okay.
That was a start.

 
          
In
moments, he hailed a cab to take them to her residence. And he was quickly hit
with another surprise to learn that she no longer lived in the mansion in
Brentwood.

 
          
When
they’d met, she’d just bought the massive house. He’d seen it once and thought
it garish in the extreme, but her mother had adored it and had deemed it her
residence.

 
          
“When
did you move?” he asked as he caught a glimpse of the low, squat house the
moment the limo passed through the security gate.

 
          
“Seven
months ago,” she said as the taxi pulled up in front of the house that nestled
back in the woods, nearly hidden.

 
          
He
frowned. That would have been shortly before her miscarriage.

 
          
“Why
didn’t you tell me you’d moved?” he asked.

 
          
“Perhaps
for the same reason you never told me you now owned a farm in São Paulo,” she
said, and then with a shrug, added, “You were away then, and by the time you
returned …” She shook her head and stared out the window.

 
          
By
then she’d lost their child. Recovered. And had dived right back into her
career.

 
          
Her
house was a blend of Spanish and American architecture and instantly reminded
him of his
casa
. She would like their
fazenda
, he thought as he followed
her inside. She would make it a home.

 
          
The
salon was alive with color and heavy black ironwork, more of an old California
than Spanish flavor. The land was thickly forested hills, broken by large
grassy fields.

 
          
The
concern that needled him earlier doubled. From the large expanse of glass, the
view of the ocean was spectacular, but the house was fairly remote with only
the occasional rooftop of neighbors tucked into the hillside marring the vista.

 
          
“Do
you have guards?”

 
          
She
laughed, as if the idea was ludicrous. “Electronic ones. The house and grounds
are equipped with a state-of-the-art security system. It can detect when anyone
breeches the perimeter.”

 
          
Not always
. Even sophisticated systems
like this could be overridden by a clever hacker.