Illegitimate Tycoon (27 page)

 
          
Her
agent muttered something Leila couldn’t catch. “You make it sound as if he has
you under lock and key.”

 
          
“That’s
uncomfortably close to the truth.” She was equally sure that he’d instructed
his guards to keep her here. “I don’t know. Rafael is very overprotective.”

 
          
“I
was thinking more along the lines of overbearing, but it comes out the same,”
her agent said. “So that’s it. You’re passing up this gem?”

 
          
Leila
closed her eyes, thinking about what she was agreeing to, carefully examining
the idea that just popped into her head. Dare she?

 
          
“No,”
Leila said at last when the purr of Rafael’s car faded in the distance. “There
is a way around this.”

 
          
She
bit her lip and stared at her beautiful prison. The one thing that she and
Rafael had always guarded closely was their privacy. It was what had allowed
them to live in relative peace so many years.

 
          
If
she acted on the impulse pounding inside her, she would invite the world into
their home. She would infuriate Rafael!

 
          
But
then, she thought with renewed ire, she was just as furious with him for his
autocratic ways. He had brought this on himself, she thought.

 
          
She
was bored out of her mind. Edgy. And growing more afraid of a relapse as her
weight increased and Rafael absented himself from their life.

 
          
“Just
because I must stay here doesn’t mean we can’t hold the shoot at my house,” she
said.

 
          
“Hmm,
interesting idea. But won’t your husband stop you?”

 
          
“He
just left for London and won’t return for days, possibly a week,” she said. “How
soon can the crew get here?”

 
          
“We
can move fast. I’ll contact them now and call you with their answer.”

 
          
“I’ll
be waiting.”

 
          
RAFAEL
stalked from his plane, his mood as gray as the winter clouds scudding over the
São Paulo airport. This trip to London had taxed his patience to the extreme.

 
          
The
glitch in production should have been dealt with swiftly from that end, yet the
board had insisted that
he
be there
to handle the implementation. After a rough start all had gone smoothly. The
new software would be ready for its release date.

 
          
Now
that problem had been sorted, he could return to Brazil. To Leila and the
babies nestled in her womb.

 
          
Not
a moment went by when he hadn’t thought of her. Being away from his wife made
him realize how very much he missed her. He’d accused her of believing her
career defined her. Laughable in light of this recent business trip. He was
just as guilty of the thinking the same thing.

 
          
He’d
gone from computer whiz kid to techno wizard developer. He had built his
company alone, had been in control of it from day one. But it had taken this
latest screwup in London and a recanting of his last standoff with Leila to
make him realize that it was time to delegate more duties and hand over the
reins to someone else.

 
          
And
at home he had to embrace the role of father.

 
          
She’d
peeled the skin back and exposed his deepest fears. Could he trust that she was
right? That having one bad parent didn’t mean those vile traits would turn up
in him.

 
          
He
was willing to trust her judgment. To open himself up to having a close
relationship with his children. To be the parent he’d envied other children
having.

 
          
But
right now the only need pounding in him was for his wife. The urge to hold her,
kiss her, make love with her, built inside him as he sped along the rolling
highway toward his
fazenda
, toward
Leila. Because of her past health issues, and her high-risk pregnancy, he’d
held her at arm’s length when he longed to do more.

 
          
As
he’d promised before, there would be no more long separations. He was home to
stay for the next few months.

 
          
He
spared a passing glance at the coffee trees that covered the vast hills. Of the
sugarcane fields that came into view.

 
          
It
was all beautiful. All worth a great deal. But his family was his most
cherished possession.

 
          
Family.
He still wasn’t accustomed to thinking in those terms. To know this time when
he returned home she’d be there waiting for him.

 
          
The
thick gray clouds drifting over his
fazenda
left him more anxious. It wasn’t cold, but there was a chill in the air and his
concern turned to Leila. Perhaps a few weeks spent in Rio would be welcome
right how, for the winters there were much milder than in the Ribeirão Preto
highlands.

 
          
By
the time he sped up the driveway toward his
casa
,
he was shaking with the need to find Leila and assure himself she was all
right. The last thing he expected to see was a minivan parked in front of the
house. He frowned, not recognizing it. A closer look revealed a sticker in the
rear window that proclaimed it was a rental vehicle.

 
          
He
could not guess who was visiting his wife, but a niggling thought in the back
of his mind told him he wouldn’t like it. Even if this was a welcome guest,
their presence annoyed him for he wouldn’t be able to have Leila to himself
now.

 
          
The
moment he strode in the door, his gaze sought out the housekeeper. His question
to her regarding Leila’s whereabouts withered on his tongue as he stared into
the salon.

 
          
A
woman who was a stranger to him was barking out orders like a general to the
half dozen people rushing around doing various jobs. Their role instantly
became clear.

 
          
His
salon had been transformed into a set.

 
          
He
moved forward on stiff legs, anger pulsing through him the closer he got.
Auxiliary lights cast a warm glow over a cleared spot in the corner. To the
left two plush chairs were angled slightly toward each other. One was empty.
Leila sat in the other looking regal but weary.

 
          
“Let’s
try this again and get it right this time,” the woman said.

 
          
Leila
glanced up, her gaze locking on Rafael’s. She immediately came to her feet. His
tense gaze flicked over the pale blue dress that conformed to her full breasts
and well-rounded belly.

 
          
The
change in her pregnancy was nearly as startling as her defiance. How dare she
bring a crew into their home! How dare she tire herself with work!

 
          
He
set across the salon only to find the way blocked by camera cases and various
accessories. “Is this the offer you promised you would refuse?”

 
          
“I’ll
explain later.”

 
          
Leila
moved onto the impromptu set, looking gorgeous and skittish and so damned
determined that he knew he was in for a battle with her. A battle he certainly
didn’t wish to engage in considering her condition and the strangers watching
and listening to their every word.

 
          
But
he couldn’t let things ride either. “You went against my wishes.”

 
          
The
color drained from her beautiful face.

 
          
“Please,
Rafael. Not now.”

 
          
“I’m
getting a shadow on the set,” the photographer complained, his voice an
irritating intrusion.

 
          
A
touch on Rafael’s arm had his dark gaze swinging to the manager who stood at
his elbow. “If you’d just step back, sir.”

 
          
The
roar of tense silence finally penetrated his anger. He gave the room a scathing
glance, his cheeks heating uncomfortably to realize that all eyes were on him.
As if he were the intruder in his own home!

 
          
“Of
course,” he said, moving out of the way when that was the last thing he wanted
to do.

 
          
One
by one the crew returned to their tasks and a low din resumed in the room. His
gaze stayed on Leila, but she refused to look at him now.

 
          
He
willed her to glance his way, and when that failed he willed his thoughts to
penetrate her stubborn mind.
Why did you
do this? Does your career mean more to you than us? Than our babies?

 
          
“Mr.
da Souza, I presume?” asked a woman. He glanced down at the lady dressed in a
tailored suit standing by his elbow. He noted the small writing pad clutched in
her hand and swore silently.

 
          
“I’m
sorry. I don’t give impromptu interviews to the paparazzi.” Especially those
who invaded his privacy!

 
          
The
woman smiled. “I thoroughly understand. But I’m a staff writer with the
magazine, not a roving reporter. Your wife gave us a wonderful interview on her
shift in priorities now that she’ll be a parent. It’s sure to resonate with our
readers who are working mothers and must juggle both.”

 
          
He
chose his words with care. “I’ve no doubt that people are eager to hear her
opinion.”

 
          
“Exactly.
Of course she’s in a position to set demands—but knowing she places her family
first and will only take choice contracts is admirable. She’s a role model for
many of us,” she said. “Anyway, I just wanted to add my congratulations to you
on your impending parenthood.”

 
          
He
inclined his head. “Thank you.”

 
          
Her
compliment had the effect of dousing cold water on his raging anger. But his
stance hadn’t changed regarding his wife working in her present condition.

 
          
Down
deep he was worried that he and Leila would slip back into the grueling routine
that had kept them apart for a year, that they’d slowly drift apart. That he’d
lose not only his wife but his children. He couldn’t let that happen, which is
why he’d insisted she retire.

 
          
But
looking at her now in their home, poised and gorgeous in her pregnancy, made
him realize that he’d destroy what they had if he did force her hand. He’d
destroy her if he succeeded in bending her to his will.

 
          
It
was a chilling realization for him to face.

 
          
For
the first time in a long time he looked at Leila—really looked at her as a
professional. Not his lover. Not his wife. Certainly not the mother of his
children.

 
          
Yes,
she seemed a bit weary. But it was also clear that she was in control, that in
her world people rushed to do her bidding—not his. That he was simply the
husband of supermodel Leila Santiago.

 
          
“Corbin,
I need you to loosen up,” the photographer said. “You’re portraying the adoring
father here, so let’s get into character. Slide your arms around Leila and rest
your hands on her stomach.”

 
          
A
tall lean man he’d not noticed before stepped from the shadows and moved to
Leila. He did as the photographer asked but the action looked as strained as
Leila’s smile.

 
          
“You’re
still too tight,” the photographer said. “Leila, maybe if you leaned into him.”