Uncovering Her Nine Month Secret Page 5

  “That’s not a good reason to marry someone. Especially for you. If I said yes, you’d regret it. You’d blame me. Claim that I’d only done it to be a rich duchess.”

  He slowly shook his head. “I think,” he said quietly, “you might be the one woman who truly doesn’t care about that. And it would be best for our son. So what is your answer?”

  My answer?

  I remembered the darkness I’d fallen into the last time Alejandro wanted me—then stopped wanting me. I’d never let myself be vulnerable to him ever again. I couldn’t. He’d almost destroyed me once. I could never live through that again.

  Sooner or later...he’ll take your child and toss you in the gutter, like you deserve.

  I couldn’t give him control over me, ever again. I couldn’t be tempted. My only hope was to get away. My only hope was...

  Oh, heaven...what time was it?

  “I need to...” As I saw the time on the dashboard of the limo, my heart nearly burst in panic. “Stop the car!” I leaned forward desperately toward the driver. “Let me out!”

  Looking confused, Dowell pulled over on the side of the busy road.

  “What are you doing?” Alejandro demanded, looking at me as if I was crazy. I felt crazy.

  I unbuckled our baby, who’d just stopped crying and was looking drowsy. “Miguel needs a walk to help him sleep....”

  “Is that a joke?”

  I didn’t answer. Cradling our baby, I stepped out on the sidewalk in front of Kensington Palace, and started running into the park, toward the playground. Toward Edward.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE PRINCESS DIANA PLAYGROUND was in the corner of Kensington Gardens, just north of the palace. It was still early, and the playground had just opened, but in the midst of August holidays it was already starting to fill with children of every age, laughing and whooping as they raced toward the teepees and leaped on the ropes of the life-size pirate ship. It was a magical place, as you might expect of a children’s playground, near a palace, based around a Peter Pan theme and named after a lost princess.

  But I was here desperate for a different kind of magic.

  Protection.

  Edward St. Cyr had protected me more than once. We’d first properly met three years earlier, when I’d been walking up from the Tube late at night and I’d passed a group of rowdy teenagers on Kensington High Street. I’d been weighed down with groceries, and tried to keep my head down as they passed. But some of the boys had followed me up the dark street, taunting me crudely. As one started to knock the grocery bags out of my hand, there’d been a flash of headlights on the street and the slam of a car door, and suddenly a tall man in a dark coat was there, his face a threatening scowl, and the young men who’d scared me fled like rabbits into the snow. Then he’d turned to me.

  “Are you all right, miss...?” Then his expression had changed. “But wait. I know you. You’re Claudie Carlisle’s cousin.”

  “Yes, I...”

  “You’re all right now.” He’d gently taken my trembling hand. “I’m Edward St. Cyr. I live a few streets from here. May I give you a ride home?”

  “No, I couldn’t possibly. I...”

  “I wouldn’t mind a walk myself,” he said briskly, and with a nod to the driver of his Rolls-Royce, he’d insisted on walking me home, though it took ten minutes.

  “Thank you,” I’d said at the door. “I never meant to impose....”

  “You didn’t.” He’d paused. “I remember what it’s like to feel alone and afraid. Will you let me check on you in the morning?”

  I’d shaken my head. “It’s truly not necessary.”

  “But you must.” He’d lifted a dark eyebrow. “If for no other reason than it will annoy your cousin, whom I’ve despised for years. I insist.”

  Now, as I looked out at Kensington Gardens in the distance, I saw the paths where we’d once walked together, he and I. He’d been kind to me. We’d been—friends.

  Or had we? Had he always wanted more?

  I’m tired of waiting for you to forget that Spanish bastard. It’s time for you to belong to me.

  I shivered. When we left Mexico yesterday, I had been prepared to make any sacrifice to save my baby from Alejandro. Even if the price would have been going to bed with a man I did not love.

  But now I was starting to wonder if that was truly necessary. Perhaps Alejandro was not entirely the heartless monster I’d once feared him to be....

  “You shouldn’t have run.”

  Hearing Alejandro’s dark voice behind me, I whirled around. “How did you catch up so fast?”

  He was scowling. “Did you think I’d let you disappear with Miguel?”

  “I didn’t disappear. I...”

  “Had some kind of baby emergency?” He folded his arms. “You ran for a reason. And we both know what it is.”

  Could he have somehow found out about Edward St. Cyr? The two men were slightly acquainted. And far from being friends. I didn’t think he would take it well. I bit my lip, breathing, “I...”

  “You panicked because I asked you to marry me,” he accused.

  Oh. I exhaled. “We both know you weren’t serious.”

  “We both know I was.”

  “You won’t be, once you have a chance to think about it. You don’t want to get married. You said so a million times.”

  “I never intended to have a child, either,” he pointed out, “so there was no reason to marry. But now... You heard what Claudie said. Marrying you will make clear to the whole world that he’s my son. That he’s my heir. Right or wrong,” he said tightly.

  Right or wrong? Meaning I wasn’t good enough? That Miguel wasn’t? My eyes narrowed. “I don’t love you.”

  “I can live with that,” he said sardonically. “We both love our son. That is the only love that matters.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said stubbornly. “My parents loved me, but they also loved each other, till the day they died. I remember how they looked at each other....”

  “Most people are not so fortunate,” he said harshly. “I’ve spent a year pursuing you, Lena. I don’t want to fight over custody now. I don’t want to worry, anytime you take him for a walk, that you might try to run away with him. I want this matter settled between us, once and for all.”

  Ah. Now we were getting down to it. “You mean I should give you total control over me, body and soul, so you can avoid the inconvenience of a custody battle?” I said incredulously, then shook my head. “This idea of marriage is just a momentary madness with you—it will pass....”

  My voice trailed off as I saw Hildy on the edge of the playground, frantically signaling.

  Alejandro frowned. “What is it?” He started to turn his head. “What are you...”

  “On second thought, let me think it over,” I said quickly. Touching his arm, I gave him a weak smile. “So much has happened since yesterday. Maybe I’m too exhausted to think straight.” I pointed toward the outdoor café at the front of the playground. “Could you...please...get me some coffee?”

  Alejandro’s dark gaze flickered over my bedraggled dress, the dark circles under my eyes. “Of course, querida,” he murmured courteously. Turning away, he started toward the outdoor café.

  The instant he was gone, I rushed to meet Hildy.

  “Where’s Edward?” I said desperately.

  She was already shaking her head. “Mr. St. Cyr wasn’t home. They said he’s in Tokyo.”

  Of all the bad luck! “Can I borrow your phone?”

  “Yes....” She reached into her pocket, then looked up, her mouth a round O. “I didn’t bring it! It’s still at home!”

  Alejandro was already handing over money at the café. I saw him pick up two coffees from the counter. No time.

 
My shoulders fell. “Thanks anyway. You’d better go.”

  “Good luck, miss....”

  Defeated, I looked out across the green park, deep emerald beneath the lowering gray London sky. I suddenly wondered what the weather was like in Spain. Warm. Sunny. Blue skies. With the chance of a hot, seductive Spaniard demanding that I share his bed.

  No! I couldn’t let myself think about it! Just sharing custody of Miguel would be bad enough. I would never, ever be Alejandro’s lover! And certainly not his wife!

  “Here.” Alejandro handed me a white paper cup that warmed my hands. The coffee smelled like heaven. I took a sip, then sighed with appreciation as I felt the heat melt me from the inside. It was sweet, and creamy.

  “You remembered how I liked it,” I said in surprise.

  He took a sip of his own black coffee, and gave a wicked grin. “That’s how all women like it.”

  “That’s not true!”

  He shrugged. “It’s mostly true. Cream and sugar will calm a woman down every time.”

  I glared at him. “You are such a—”

  “A heartless bastard?” He paused, then tilted his head. “Do you still think I’ll be such a disaster as a father?”

  He sounded wistful, even—hurt? No. Impossible. A man like Alejandro had no heart to injure. But still, guilt rose in me, making my cheeks burn. “Maybe you’re not completely evil.” I looked down at the cup. “You did get my coffee right. Even though you’re completely wrong with your stereotype about women liking cream and sugar.”

  “Obviously,” he agreed. He tilted his head. “Your arms must be getting tired from holding Miguel all this time.”

  “A bit,” I admitted sheepishly. “He’s starting to get too heavy to carry like this for long.”

  Finishing off his coffee, he threw the empty cup in the trash and reached out. “Give him to me.”

  I hesitated, then handed him over. I watched anxiously, but Alejandro was careful, holding him, even turning Miguel around so he could see the world around him. Alejandro caught my look. “How am I doing?”

  “Not bad,” I said grudgingly.

  “Would you care to walk?” He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Since he needed a walk so badly that you almost jumped out of a moving car. This taking babies on walks must be a serious business. Or else you had some other reason for coming here that you don’t want me to know about.”

  I looked at him sharply. Did he know something? Or was he just fishing?

  He gave me a bland smile.

  I shrugged. “It was what you said. Pure panic at your marriage proposal.” I took a sip of coffee. “Kind of like how you reacted last year when I told you I loved you. Instant disappearance.” For a moment, we stared at each other. Then I turned away. “Yes. Let’s walk.”

  The rain had eased up, and though gray skies were hovering, eager children of all ages, speaking many different languages, were now playing everywhere as we strolled past the pirate ship.

  “So what is your answer?” he said casually, as if he’d been asking me out for a movie.

  “About what?”

  He looked at me.

  “Oh.” I licked my lips. “That.”

  “That.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I’m trying to be. But I’ve never asked any woman to marry me before. I’m starting to think I must be doing it wrong. Do I need to get down on one knee?”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “Then what is it?”

  I’m afraid you’d make me love you again. The cold knot near my heart, which had started to warm on the edges, returned to ice. “Come on,” I mumbled, looking at the ground. “We both know that I’m not exactly duchess material.”

  “Are you trying to let me down gently?” he demanded. He stopped, leaning our baby against his hip as he looked at me. “Is there someone else? Perhaps the person who helped you flee London last year, and travel around the world?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “When a man protects a woman,” he said grimly, “it is exactly like that.”

  “How do you know it’s a man?”

  “By looking at your face,” he said softly. “Right now.”

  I looked away. My throat hurt as I took another sip of the rich, sweet coffee, watching all the mothers and fathers and smiling nannies hovering on the edge of their children’s delighted play. Some of them looked back at me. They probably imagined we were a family, too.

  But we weren’t.

  I would have given anything if Alejandro could have been a man I could trust with my heart. A regular guy, a hardworking, loving man, who could have been my real partner. Instead of a selfish playboy duke who didn’t know the meaning of love, and if married would plainly expect me to remain a dutiful wife imprisoned in his castle, raising our child, while he enjoyed himself elsewhere. Why shouldn’t he? If love didn’t exist, I could only imagine what he thought of fidelity.

  “Why did you seduce me, Alejandro?” I blurted out.

  He blinked. “What?”

  My voice trembled as I looked up at him. “If you weren’t trying to get me pregnant to provide an heir for you and Claudie, why did you seduce me? Why did you even notice me?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Are you really going to make me spell it out? Fine. You’re—you—” I waved my half-full coffee toward him “—and I’m...” I indicated my white dress I’d worn for thirty-six hours now, wrinkled and possibly stained with baby sick I didn’t know about, and I shivered in the cool morning air. “I believed Claudie’s story last year because, for the first time, everything made sense. There was no other reason for you to... I mean, why else would a man like you, who could have any woman in the world, choose a woman like...”

  Reaching out his hand, he cupped my cheek. “Because I wanted you, Lena. Pure and simple. I wanted you.” Looking down at me, he said in a low voice, “I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

  My lips parted. I trembled, fighting the desire to lean into his touch. The paper cup fell from my hand, splashing coffee across the grass. But I barely noticed. Craning back my head, I blinked back tears as I whispered, “Then why did you break up with me like that, so coldly and completely? Just for telling you I loved you?”

  Alejandro stared at me, then dropped his hand. “Because I didn’t want to lead you on. I’d promised myself I’d never have either wife or child....”

  “But why?” I said, bewildered. “Why wouldn’t you want those things? You’re the last of your line, aren’t you? If you died without an heir...you would be the last Duke of Alzacar.”

  “That was my intention,” he said grimly.

  “But why?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He looked down at Miguel in his arms. “Fate chose differently. I have a son.” His dark eyes blazed at me, filled with heat and anger and something else...something I couldn’t understand. “And I will protect his future. Right or wrong.”

  “You keep saying right or wrong. What is wrong about it?” I narrowed my eyes. “If you’re trying to imply that he’s not good enough—”

  “Of course not,” he bit out.

  “Then it’s me—”

  He shook his head impatiently, his jaw tight. “I’m talking about me.”

  The great Duque de Alzacar, admitting some kind of fault? I blinked. I breathed, “I don’t understand....”

  “What is there to understand?” he said evasively. “Now that I am a parent, my priorities have changed. Wasn’t it the same for you, when Miguel was born?”

  I hesitated. It was true what he said, but I still had the sense he was hiding something from me. “Yes-s....”

  “We have a child. So we will do what is best for him. We will marry.”

  “You didn’t want to m
arry me in Mexico.”

  “That was when I thought you were a liar, a thief and probably a gold digger. Now my opinion of you has improved.”

  “Thanks,” I said wryly.

  “Why are you fighting me? Unless—” He gave me a sharp, searching gaze. “Are you in love with someone else?”

  The image of Edward flashed in front of my eyes. I wondered if Alejandro would still keep his improved opinion of me if he knew I’d been living in another man’s house. It would look sordid, even if the truth had been so innocent. At least—innocent on my side. Swallowing, I looked away.

  “I’m not in love with anyone.” My voice was barely audible over the noisy children at play.

  His shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. “Then why not marry me?” His tone turned almost playful. “You really should consider it for the jewels alone....”

  I gave a rueful laugh, then looked at him. “I’d never fit into your world, Alejandro. If I took you at your word and became your wife, we’d both be miserable.”

  “I wouldn’t be.”

  I shook my head. “Your expectations of marriage are lower than mine. It would never work. I want—” I looked down as my cheeks turned hot “—to be loved. I want what my parents had.”

  Alejandro abruptly stopped. We were in the far back of the playground now, in a quiet overgrown place of bushes and trees. “But what about our son? Doesn’t he have some rights, as well? Doesn’t he deserve a stable home?”

  “You mean a cold, drafty castle?”

  “It’s neither drafty nor cold.” He set his jaw. “I want my son, my heir, to live in Spain. To know his people. His family.”

  I frowned at him. “I thought you had no family.”

  “My grandmother who raised me. All the people on my estate. They are like family to me. Don’t you think he deserves to know them, and they should know him? Shouldn’t he know his country? Where else would you take him—back to Mexico?”

  “I loved it there!” I said, stung.

  “We will buy a vacation house there,” he said impatiently. “But his home is with his land. With his people. With his parents. You of all people,” he said softly, “know what it means to have a happy, settled childhood, surrounded by love.”