Kitabı oku: «The Illegitimate Tycoon», sayfa 2

CHAPTER TWO

THE thought of being with child pelted Leila like a cold icy rain. She couldn’t go through that again, shouldn’t attempt it blithely.

Yet like Rafael she longed for a child. A baby to love, to cradle to her bosom. Her and Rafael’s child, born of love.

But she’d tried and failed.

Last year Leila had discovered she had been pregnant. But in September, when she had been just twelve weeks along, nature had taken a horribly wrong turn.

Leila had lost her baby. She’d lost a lot of blood. Lost weight. Lost heart over the tragedy.

Her mind ached from the doctor’s warning following her miscarriage. Though she was well now, there would always be that chance that due to her anorexia, and the damage it may have wreaked on her body, she could fail to carry a child to term again.

The very last thing Leila wanted was to go through the pain of losing a baby again. She was afraid to try and fail, even though she still wanted to give Rafael the family he craved. Her own arms and heart ached to hold the child she’d lost. Rafael’s baby.

But despite her deep yearning for a family, her fear of suffering another miscarriage had grown into paralyzing terror. More so her fear had been given strength when a fellow model, who’d also struggled with anorexia early in her career, had died in childbirth. A woman Leila had admired.

Yet as her friend’s body had changed during her pregnancy, the young woman had relapsed into her old destructive habits. Leila had watched as her friend had struggled to regain control of her anorexia, but in the end the disease won, taking her friend’s and the baby’s lives.

That’s when Leila’s nightmares had really begun. Now, she wasn’t able to think beyond the tragedy her friend had suffered. She had lost confidence that she’d be stronger than the disease.

Her inner turmoil turned into a living breathing hell, for though she still longed to have Rafael’s child grow inside her, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—commit to having a child only to lose it. She suffered this devastation already and it had changed her. But how would Rafael, who wanted a family so desperately, bear it?

Guilt over keeping her terror and her past pregnancy from Rafael roiled in her until her fear became a dragon she didn’t know how to slay.

How would he react when he learned she’d kept so much from him?

Not well, she feared.

At the time of her miscarriage he’d been away on some excursion in Brazil, and she knew she couldn’t tell him such news over the phone. She could have told him when he returned, in between a break in her hectic schedule, but she’d been so devastated still, so terribly shocked, that she’d been unable to find the words. All too soon too much time had passed. Now?

Leila had no idea how to even begin to tell her husband what had happened! And the timing was once again all wrong.

Leila pushed past his finely honed form and hurried into her bedroom. She simply couldn’t deal with it right now, not when her emotions were strained from the flight. Not when she wanted time alone with Rafael first before she voiced the truth that she knew could drive him from her.

She hated that. Hated the distancing between them this past year. But she feared getting close to him again as well. Feared losing control of her body.

And yet that’s what her fear was doing now—taking control over her life, her plans, and destroying her dreams.

But how could she risk a repeat of the hell she’d gone through last year? She didn’t know, and the uncertainty and fear were eating her alive.

She looked around the room wildly, desperate to regain control of her rioting emotions. Her gaze latched on to the rolling wardrobe clothes rack.

“Is something wrong, querida?” Rafael asked, his deep voice freezing her in place for a heartbeat.

Tell him. Blurt it all out!

She ached to turn around and run her hands over his strong muscular chest. Wrap her arms around him and hold him tight. Beg him to forgive her for holding the truth from him.

Leila desperately wanted to hold on to the only man she’d ever loved and savor the moment, for that’s all they’d had in a year. Moments.

She’d wanted so much more. She wanted the early days of her marriage back. Wanted the tragedy of her miscarriage forgotten. Wanted to believe that she could bear his child without the mind-numbing fear, that she could be stronger than the disease that had nearly killed her as a teenager. That had killed her friend.

But she couldn’t. Not now. Not before the premiere of the film he’d devoted so much to. Not when the truth could drive an even deeper wedge between them.

“I have to make sure everything I need is here.”

She moved to the rack, desperately pushing those dark thoughts from her mind.

“Then I will leave you to your unpacking and make a few calls. The premier is at eight, two hours from now.”

“I’ll have just enough time to get ready.”

Without his interference. Without him being so close she could pull him to her, hold him, kiss him.

She’d never intended to keep her miscarriage a secret from him, but her fears had sunk deep roots in her. Her only escape had been her career. It had become her anchor with a new twist. She’d developed a compulsive ritual to oversee her wardrobe, and to coordinate each shoot with the photographer beforehand.

She’d gotten to the point now where she would only work with a handful of noted photographers because they understood her process and brought the best out in her.

But her acclaimed status and demands had come at a price as well, for a few other, less experienced photographers had labeled her a control freak.

She frowned at that fault now, knowing on some level it was true. She tore into the array of garments her agency had provided and nearly an hour passed as she lost herself in the preparations, gaining control of her life and her fear again.

It wasn’t easy being at the top of her game. There was no time to sit back on her laurels and savor her position at the top, for there was always a new breed of models eager to knock her off her pedestal.

Time would do that all on its own, of course, as the opportunity for aging models was few and far between. And a model close to thirty was already considered beyond her peak years.

Right now it was crucial that Leila remained focused on her career, and she desperately needed this last campaign to excel. The endowment she would establish off this shoot alone would provide more funding for her clinic for girls battling anorexia and bulimia. So far it had been running on faith and charity. She’d depleted her own funds to shore up their own, but she knew she couldn’t keep doing that, knew she needed to do more.

So it was imperative that she let nothing interfere with the networking she must do here at the film festival to secure her clinic. But try as she might she couldn’t stop thinking about Rafael.

She couldn’t wait to be alone with him, to make love with him, for in his arms the world and its worries faded away.

Leila strode to the closet to hang her personal wardrobe and threw open the doors. And blinked not once but twice. It’d been too long since her things had been next to his. Too long since they’d shared more than a night or two together.

Several masculine suits hung on the rod. Men’s fine leather shoes rested on the closet floor in front of a large wheeled case.

A smile curved her lips as she reached out to stroke the woolen sleeve on a charcoal designer suit jacket. When they’d met, he’d barely been able to afford an off-the-rack suit. Now he wore only ones custom-made to fit his long legs, trim hips and broad shoulders.

“Do they meet with your approval?” he asked, his deep rich voice vibrating along her nerves in a delicious hum.

She turned to him with a smile and felt her heart swell with love. With pride, for he’d come from nothing and worked hard to become one of the wealthiest men in the world.

“Yes, I’m impressed by the quality of the cloth and the cut. But then you won me over years ago wearing just faded jeans and a stark-white jersey that hugged your chest—” she paused, striding to him on legs that oddly trembled “—as I long to do now.”

A deep growl of pleasure rumbled from his chest as she glided her palms over his honed muscles. “This past year that we’ve spent apart has nearly killed me.”

“Me too,” she said, her guilt once more threatening to steal the joy she felt at being in his arms.

Rafael was such a handsome man. So strong inside. So giving to her. So good.

Yet the core of steel within him could be unbendable as well. He was a proud man, slow to trust. And she’d betrayed that bond. Would he be forgiving when she confessed her lie?

“Why the sad look, querida?”

She took a breath and debated telling him now. Blurting it out in a rush, then suffering his anger in silence throughout tonight’s premiere. No, it would ruin this night for him and he had worked so hard to get to this point in his career.

That smacked of being selfish, and of all her faults, she wasn’t that. Nothing could be gained from telling him now.

She’d waited this long to purge her soul. She could wait another day or so until the time was right. Until she’d enjoyed the pleasure of being Rafael’s wife and lover without any arguments or hurt feelings between them.

“I was just thinking how nice this would be if we didn’t have so many obligations this week,” she said.

He shrugged. “Say the word and we’ll leave here, go somewhere more private. Just us two.”

“So tempting, but you know I can’t do that. We can’t do that.”

“When did our careers become more important than our marriage?” he asked.

“It never has been,” she protested.

One dark brow arched up. “Hasn’t it? In the past year we’ve only managed to be together once, and that was far too brief.”

“I know, but we are both at crucial points in our careers,” she said. “To have shirked our responsibilities and commitments would have had adverse effects we might never have recovered from.”

Especially for her as a model. Right now it was crucial she kept her name out there. That she stayed on top, for that brought in the big money that enabled her to help others. It gave her purpose and pride to have succeeded so well at something. It gave her control.

But she admitted with a heavy heart that she’d also avoided any kind of close encounter with Rafael after the miscarriage. It had been wrong of her, but she had needed to protect herself. Ah, maybe she was selfish.

What else could explain why she’d done that to the one person she trusted implicitly? Fear, that’s what. Losing their baby had been the first tragedy she’d suffered since her recovery from anorexia and it had almost destroyed her.

She had learned a painful lesson. That while she adored Rafael, deep inside was that fear of losing herself if she ever totally put her life in another person’s hands again. She had to guard herself closely, for it would be easy to let one compulsion morph into another. For her to slip back to the destructive ways of her teen years.

“I think there is more bothering you than weariness,” Rafael said, snapping her attention wholly back to him again.

And my God, but this man knew how to probe one’s soul with one long scorching look.

She lifted her gaze just enough to break the magnetic pull that was drawing her closer to him. “I’ve been on a grueling pace for the past six months. Rest is a luxury I haven’t afforded myself.”

His dark eyes narrowed, assessing, as if gauging whether to believe her. “Then I insist you enjoy a good night’s sleep tonight.”

As if she’d be able to do that knowing she had only to reach over to touch him! To slip her arms around that magnificent specimen of masculinity and claim him as her own. That all she had to whisper was I want you and they’d both be lost in a passion so deep and so consuming that nothing or no one else would matter.

“You won’t get any argument from me,” she said, but doubted sleep would come easily for either of them.

Showered, coiffed and makeup carefully applied, Leila slipped into the vibrant blue designer gown that had been provided for tonight’s premiere of Bare Souls. The skirt was sleek and straight with a side slit to allow ease in walking.

The strapless bodice hugged her middle and flared upward like flower petals to cover her breasts. She had just the right amount of faux tan to complement her natural golden coloring and make her skin glow with this electric shade of blue.

Fiery blue diamond studs sparkled at her ears and a matching pendant with a larger diamond would soon hang from a fine golden chain around her neck. She’d slipped a companion dinner ring on her right hand—all had been birthday gifts from Rafael that had stunned and surprised her.

But she still wore her simple wedding set on her left hand, and the tiny diamond solitaire and smaller stones in the wedding band winked back at her as if in approval. For years Rafael had insisted on replacing this set with a more lavish one, but she’d told him flat out she didn’t want to exchange these for new opulent ones.

These rings meant the world to her for they were the first pieces of jewelry Rafael had given her. These were the rings he’d slipped on her finger—the solitaire when he’d gotten down on one knee and proposed, and the delicate wedding ring when they’d stood before the priest and exchanged their vows.

She hadn’t known it was inscribed with meu coraçâo until later when her mother had asked to see them up close and she’d reluctantly demurred removing it, the action seeming wrong to her newlywed status. Her pompous mother had scoffed at both the cheap set and the inscription.

But Leila’s heart had melted to know he’d done this, for while Rafael was passionate, he wasn’t prone to flowery words. She could still count the times he’d told her he loved her.

It was enough, for she believed they’d had a strong marriage based on love. They’d had ordinary dreams of a home and family.

Ah, but neither of their lives had been average. She’d attained great heights with her career again. And with new demands and opportunities came huge rewards.

As for Rafael …

The boy born outside the privilege denied him reached success that trumped her own. That made her achievements pale in comparison.

In short, Rafael was a force to be reckoned with in the business world. More so now.

He’d changed the past year. He now had a ruthless edge that had only been hinted at before. An edge to him that she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with.

Could they regain what they’d once had? Did he even want the same things anymore? Would he still want her when he learned what had happened?

For the first time in her marriage, Leila felt suddenly unsure of her place in Rafael’s life. If he didn’t want her anymore, if he tossed her aside, she didn’t know if she could find the strength to go on. And yet she’d already suffered with worse. Hadn’t she?

One sharp rap came at the door. She whirled to face it and froze, still caught up in the old pain and guilt, caught in that very human urge of fight or flight. Before she could move beyond the fear that was crippling her, the door swung open.

Rafael filled the opening, resplendent in black tie, his tux fitting his broad shoulders, muscled torso and long strong legs to perfection. He was, in essence, the embodiment of sexual charm and masculine charisma.

If she’d been startled when she’d stepped from her shower earlier to find him waiting to do the same, she was thunderstruck now. He could have joined her under the warm spray and she wouldn’t have protested! God knew he had done the same many times before.

So why hadn’t he done so this time? Why hadn’t he pulled her back into the enclosure and made love with her?

Leila had gripped the counter to steady herself as a wave of hot desire had washed over her. He was simply beautiful. Well toned. Tanned. And aroused.

There’d been no mistaking that part of him.

Yet moments later as he’d stepped from the shower gloriously naked and padded into the bedroom, he’d not spared her a glance. She’d wanted to follow. Wanted to run her hands over his body, wanted to kiss him, taste all of him. She’d wanted to ease his need and hers as well, for in his arms she felt whole. Safe. Loved.

“God help us both,” she’d muttered to herself, and had set to work finishing her hair and makeup. By the time she’d entered the bedroom, he’d been gone.

But now he was back. Tall. Solemn. Sexy as hell.

His dark gaze licked over her, slowly, exacting, a visual caress that left her trembling with need again. Finally, those dark magnetic eyes lifted to hers.

She saw appreciation there and some other emotion that defied explanation. It was a look she’d never seen before, there and gone in a blink. Yet it fed her earlier unease just the same, allowed it to gain a foothold. To grow into another obstacle she didn’t need or want.

“We need to leave in five minutes,” he said, his voice calm, steady, when her emotions felt as if they were bouncing off the walls.

She swallowed the sudden dryness in her throat and nodded, realizing she still held the blue diamond pendant in her hand. “I’m ready except for my shoes and this stubborn necklace. I can’t manage the clasp.”

His brows tugged into a disagreeable line for a heartbeat, then quickly smoothed again. “Maybe I can help.”

He pushed from the doorway and came toward her, long legs moving with masculine grace. A predator tracking his quarry.

And she certainly felt trapped, for the guilt of withholding the truth from him was ballooning within her.

A shiver rocketed through her as he took the necklace from her and studied the clasp. Yet a smile touched her mouth as she watched him, knowing that rapier-quick mind of his was likely already designing a better clasp for the necklace, one that was user-friendly.

An odd heaviness expanded in her as Rafael fitted the necklace around her neck and managed the clasp with surprising ease. If only he could do the same for her health issues. But she’d seen a specialist, and the doctor hadn’t been able to assure her that she wouldn’t suffer another miscarriage.

The blue diamond pendant felt heavy and cold resting between her breasts. Not so for his hands that felt hot and possessive as he briefly skimmed her bare shoulders.

“You look stunning,” he said.

“Thank you. So do you,” she said, pulling away from him as smoothly as she could so it didn’t look as if she was running from him. “You’ll clearly attract the eye of every woman here tonight.”

He laughed, a rich sound she hadn’t heard in far too long. And even that did odd things to her insides.

Good heavens, she would never be able to force a bite down tonight as nervous as she was in his company. Not the way her stomach had been of late.

She slipped her feet into strappy heels, the silver stilettos giving her added height. Now she was nearly eye level with him. On more of an equal footing. And that put her even closer to that devastatingly sensual mouth of his that she longed to kiss.

Damn! Why was she suddenly so obsessed with sex?

“Ready?” she quipped.

“Whenever you are,” he said in that same rich tone that hummed along her senses.

She moved to the door. If they didn’t get out of this quiet suite, they’d end up in each other’s arms. In bed. Locked in passion.

Or battle?

Yes, because she couldn’t keep her secret much longer. And she knew he’d be angry when he found out the truth.

She didn’t want to fight with Rafael tonight. This was special to him. To them.

“I hope the lines aren’t too long,” she said, focusing on what was to come instead of Rafael da Souza.

“We’ll soon see.”

He closed the door behind her and kept pace at her side, not touching her but so close his aura seemed to encircle her. Dwarf her. That was an odd comfort that she grasped on to.

He’d always been her protector. Always had been the one person she could confide in.

And yet she hadn’t been able to when it had mattered most!

The fangs of guilt eating at her faded away as they stepped into the limelight. Even in his presence, she still felt like a rare bird in a cage, photographed and ogled endlessly. Being out among the masses was vastly different from a shoot where it was just her and the lens. When she was in control.

She’d never liked this side of her career. This star worship that was as shallow and fake as the artificial minilights twinkling above them.

Before they reached the elevators, she saw the people clustered in the lobby waiting. An old panic began bubbling inside her and she immediately slowed, her gaze searching for another means to avoid this crush.

His hand came up to rest at the small of her back. “Take a breath, meu amor.”

She did, then another longer, deeper one. “I don’t see anyone I know, at least not personally.”

There was no shortage of celebrities waiting in their finery for the elevator. Though she was comfortable strutting her stuff in front of a camera, she hated competing one-on-one with her peers face-to-face!

In her eyes, she always came up lacking. She was still the chubby girl whom her mother had taken in hand and had taught how to rid herself of weight. Who’d learned a dangerous lesson that had nearly taken her life.

“This way,” Rafael said, herding her to the last elevator on the left where three men and an elegant woman waited.

She didn’t know them, but it was clear by their welcoming expressions that they knew Rafael well. It was the first time that she could recall someone recognizing him before her and the feeling was startling. Almost freeing.

“Good to see you, Rafael,” the older of the men said as he extended his hand. “The new phones look fantastic in the gift bags. Before the festival is over, everyone will be clambering for one of them.”

Rafael smiled as he shook hands with the man. “I certainly hope so. Please, allow me to introduce my wife, Leila Santiago. Leila, this is the producer of Bastion 9.”

Introductions were quickly made, and Leila discovered the woman was the producer’s wife. The other gentleman was the writer, having just won an award for his original script on a previous movie.

“Our daughter is a true fan of yours,” the woman said, surprising Leila. “She dreams of being a model one day and you are the woman she’s determined to emulate.”

“I wish her much success,” Leila said. And none of the heartache.

She fervently hoped that the girl was blessed with a body that remained lithe. That she avoided the pitfalls that had nearly cost Leila her life. That if she did fail, she would be able to find help quickly at a place like her private clinic, where Leila had already given aide to countless other young girls.

The elevator doors opened and they trooped into the waiting car. Before others could crowd in behind them, she saw Rafael punch the button to close the doors.

She flashed him a grateful smile which he acknowledged with a nod and wink that did odd things to her insides and calmed her as none of her inner talks could. If only he could shut out the rest of the world so easily.

“We have an exciting surprise lined up at the party,” the producer said. “You must make an effort to be there at the launch of it.”

“Of course,” Rafael said before she could say a word. “We wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

She would. She’d prefer a night alone with her husband. She wanted to unburden her soul. But it would have to wait.

The elevator doors whooshed open and she pushed her way out, eager to get away from strangers. To catch a breath that wasn’t laced with the spicy scent that was uniquely Rafael’s.

But she got no more than three steps before he was at her side. “Are you all right?”

“You know I dislike small closed spaces,” she said.

“As much as I despise the cameras that follow us around.” He huffed a breath, and she felt his annoyance vibrate through her in a liquid wave.

Yes, this was her world. She’d gladly guide him through it—as long as he stayed close.

“This red carpet we’re about to trod down en route to the Palais du Cinéma is hellish for me too,” she admitted.

“You are serious?”

“Very. It’s different when it’s just me and the camera. I’m in control then. But they—” she nodded at the throng ahead of them “—they are calling the shots now.”

“Only if you let them, Leila.”

He was right, of course. Still it served to remind her how to get through this crush.

“Just smile. Pretend you see a dear friend just beyond the camera.”

“Is that what you do?” he asked.

“Sometimes.” But usually she looked for him in the crowd, even though she knew he’d not be there.

He took a breath, then nodded and touched his fingers to her back again. “Let’s go, then. The sooner we get through this ordeal, the sooner we can find our seats at the cinema.”

And then they’d face the endless swirl of afterpremiere parties, the first having already been decided by him. She didn’t mind, for one was just like the other. Privacy was a hard-won commodity here.

When they’d reached their plush seats at the cinema, Leila allowed herself to relax. Celebrities, movie moguls and industry professionals all moved to their seats before the lights dimmed.

Later, as the credits rolled, she was stunned at how much Rafael had invested in this film, and not just in the technical support he’d given. As the producer in the elevator had said, every complimentary bag held Rafael’s new mobile device. They were as much the talk of the evening as the movie itself with those in the audience activating their phones now.

“I didn’t realize they were all operational,” she said.

He gave a careless shrug. “I simply provided a month’s complimentary service.”

The cost of such a move stunned her, for though she knew he’d achieved great wealth in the past year, she’d never dreamed he could afford such extravagance! Did she really know this man next to her at all?

The yacht had been decorated to mimic the set of the movie, a futuristic panorama right down to the uniforms of the waitstaff. The food was lavish. The drinks plentiful.

Stars glittered in an indigo sky and on the decks of the yacht as well. Leila had adored the nightlife in the early days of their marriage, and would party until dawn with Rafael. But the past few years her enjoyment of the jet-set gaiety had waned.

Even now the best French champagne tasted bitter to her. And the man she’d married seemed a powerful stranger.

He commanded attention. People knew his name. Influential people in all walks of life.

Gone was the carefree young designer who’d created some technological wonder at a time that everyone clambered for something new and groundbreaking. He was a star in his world just as she was in hers.

Only she’d been a comeback queen. It had been grueling to step back in front of the camera after her recovery and she’d been determined to succeed.

Rafael had been her savior then. He’d taken her away from the madness and the pressures of the modeling world. He’d become the barrier that her controlling mother could never break down.

He’d let Leila make her own decisions regarding her career and she had become strong. She owed him everything—including the truth that burned in her soul.

“Rafael da Souza is without a doubt the most handsome man here,” a ravishing starlet said, a champagne flute dangling from her jeweled fingers and lust glittering in her blue eyes that were fixed on him.

“I agree,” Leila managed to say in a controlled tone, her Brazilian blood bitten with jealousy that this young woman would openly flaunt her desire for Rafael in front of her! “But then, I’ve always thought he was the most handsome man I’ve ever met.”

“You know him?” she asked, looking at Leila then.

Leila forced a smile, knowing the second when the actress recognized her. “I’m his wife.”

And after delivering that statement, Leila walked straight toward her husband. She lifted a flute of champagne off a tray as Rafael turned to talk to a beautiful woman who’d just approached him.

A woman whom he seemed glad to see!

Leila downed the fine wine so fast that her head took a dizzying spin. She refused to rationalize that women threw themselves at Rafael often, for his finely chiseled features and intense dark eyes were too magnetic for any woman to resist, including herself. But he was her husband!

Her sting of jealousy was warranted. Wasn’t it?

She wouldn’t sit on the sidelines tonight and watch others flirt with him! God forbid if he welcomed their attention, as he seemed to be doing now with this green-eyed beauty at his side.

“There you are,” Leila said in an affected purr as she slipped her arms around his muscled one, bringing his startled gaze snapping to hers. “I’ve missed you.”

His brows slammed together, then smoothed one trebling pulse later. “Have you now?”

“I thought perhaps you’d give me a tour of the yacht.”

“Later,” he said, and flicked an apologetic look at the other woman.

Before Leila could protest, the woman who’d garnered Rafael’s attention spoke directly to her. “I’ve admired your work for years. You make modeling look effortless when I know it is very hard work.”

Again she trotted forth her patent smile when she felt anything but pleasant. Her head was still in the clouds from drinking two glasses of champagne on a nearly empty stomach.

“Are you a model?” Leila asked the woman who was as tall as she, enviably lithe and naturally beautiful with a crown of soft brown curls and arresting jade-green eyes.