Sensible Housekeeper, Scandalously Pregnant Page 6

  As she put on the dress, Louisa told herself she had no illusions that Rafael would love her; he would certainly never marry her. She only prayed he might love and accept their coming child. And that was the reason—the only reason!—that she put it on.

  It was a little loose from her weight loss over the last few years, all the time she’d spent without time to exercise or sit down and eat meals or take care of herself properly. But when she added a belt, the dress still looked nice. She brushed her dark hair, leaving it tumbling and lustrous down her shoulders. She took off her black-rimmed plastic glasses and put in contact lenses. She was out of practice after wearing glasses for so long. She added some mascara to her lashes and some deep red lipstick on her mouth, then surveyed herself in the mirror for the effect.

  After so many years, she almost didn’t recognize herself.

  She looked pretty.

  Louisa prayed it would help. Because she was terrified.

  As she went downstairs, she could hear the first guests starting to arrive outside. She saw Rafael at the base of the stairs and stopped, gripping the polished wood of the railing. She closed her eyes as she took a single calming breath, her hand on her belly. Could this night be anything like her deepest dreams?

  “I’m pregnant, Rafael,” she would say.

  His gray eyes would widen. He’d gasp. Then he’d take her into his arms. “I am glad,” he’d say fiercely. “Of course I want this baby. And I want you. You are the only woman for me, querida.” Looking down at her, he would lift her chin and whisper tenderly, “I love you, Louisa.”

  “Louisa.”

  She opened her eyes to see Rafael looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs. He was frowning at her as if she’d dyed her hair purple and dressed like the Easter bunny.

  “Why are you dressed like that?” he demanded, coldly surveying her from head to toe.

  It wasn’t quite the reaction she’d been hoping for, but she tried to smile as she walked down the stairs—carefully, on her four-inch black patent high heels.

  “For the party,” she said. She stopped one step above him. He still wouldn’t smile back at her. “For your birthday,” she tried again.

  Instead of looking pleased, Rafael scowled. “You are going to attract attention like that.”

  A servant should always be invisible. The rule had been drummed into her for ten months. After her parents had died, Louisa had given up her chance at a college scholarship to stay home and take care of her little sister and ailing great-aunt. But her aunt had left Louisa a small inheritance, which she’d used to attend butler school to become a certified household manager. You are not a person to your employer. You are a tool in his service. Serve invisibly. Never invade your employer’s privacy or force yourself upon his notice. To do so will cause embarrassment to you both.

  Now, Louisa stiffened. “You don’t like my dress?”

  He glared at her. “No.”

  It seemed almost impossible to believe just that morning, she’d been in his arms. They’d been naked together in the amazing Greek mansion overlooking the Aegean. Now, when she needed his attention the most, he’d suddenly become distracted. Distant.

  Was he already thinking about Dominique Lepetit, who was already on her way? Had he already forgotten Louisa completely?

  “Go change,” he said coldly. “The guests will arrive any moment.”

  He seemed completely disinterested in her. Just as he’d promised two days ago, their little affair had apparently cured his desire for her. He’d had his fill of her. He was done. He was ready to move on.

  With a deep breath, she told herself it was irrelevant if he cared for her. She had to think about their unborn child. Rafael had to know she was pregnant. For their baby’s sake.

  As he turned to leave, she grabbed his wrist. It took every ounce of her courage. “I need to talk to you.”

  He stared at her hand on his wrist. She released him as if he’d burned her.

  “I want you on the plane to Buenos Aires tomorrow,” he replied icily.

  “Buenos Aires?” she whispered, staggered. He no longer wanted her in Paris? “Why Buenos Aires?”

  “You’ll take over my house there.” He gave a single dismissive nod, already turning away. “Now go change your dress.”

  Louisa felt a stab of pain.

  He could not have said it more plainly. He no longer saw her as anything but a servant.

  And the truth was that even in Greece, when she’d imagined herself his cosseted mistress, she’d still been his servant. Serving his needs in bed, rather than in the household. And now that he was done with her, he expected her to simply return to being invisible, to being the plain gray ghost that vanished into the hundred-year-old woodwork of the mansion.

  So he cared nothing for her but as his invisible servant? She gritted her teeth.

  So be it.

  She had no intention of going to Buenos Aires. She wouldn’t go meekly off to serve him forever in exile, while he enjoyed a succession of other women!

  Having him love her—what a ridiculous fantasy that had been!

  Her head pounded. She felt almost physically sick. But she pushed the pain aside. She would deal with that later. Tonight, she had a job to do.

  She’d make his dinner party perfect. He would never have reason to complain she’d been anything less than an exemplary housekeeper.

  Then, afterward, she would tell him she was accidentally pregnant. Not because she still hoped he might care. But because her baby deserved a father, and Rafael deserved the truth. He deserved that much, and no more.

  The doorbell rang, and she lifted her chin.

  “I’m sorry, your guests are already arriving,” she said sweetly. “I have no time to change my clothes. Excuse me.”

  Pushing past him, she opened the door.

  That night, as the guests arrived, Louisa personally stood near the door to take their coats. The house was all in readiness; she’d supervised everything. As she took each coat, she saw that each guest was more powerful, wealthy and beautiful than the last. She watched Rafael greet each of them, some with handshakes, some with slaps on the back.

  But not the women—no. He greeted each of them with a kiss on both cheeks. The five women were all so beautiful, and every single one of them looked up at Rafael with longing. No wonder. Impeccably dressed in a tuxedo with a black tie, he was beyond handsome. He was the spectacular angel of his namesake.

  He didn’t look at Louisa. He seemed not to notice she was there, any more than he noticed the grandfather clock or the antique hat rack that she’d lovingly chosen for this mansion. All his possessions, including her, were to be used and then discarded at will when he no longer found them useful.

  She clenched her hands, trying to ignore the pain.

  “Dominique,” he purred, pushing past Louisa to help the beautiful blond starlet remove her white fur coat. He pulled it off her shoulders himself, smiling down at her seductively. “I am glad to see you.”

  “Rafael.” The infamous French beauty reminded Louisa of a pampered white Persian cat, with her tiny button nose, big blue eyes and fluffy bleached-blond hair. Her sparkly gold minidress barely covered her nipples on the top and upper thighs on the hemline. She smiled up at him with her curved red lips. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday, chéri.”

  Looking at them together, Louisa suddenly felt how plain she was, how tall and ungainly and skinny in her five-year-old black dress. A sharp pain rose in her throat. Twenty minutes earlier, she’d thought she looked rather pretty in the mirror but now she felt as drab as a sparrow. Why hadn’t she just stayed in her gray smock and glasses? At least then no one would have snickered at the plain girl who was actually trying to look pretty, who was apparently under the delusion she could compete with someone like Dominique Lepetit!

  Rafael and Dominique were suited for each other in every way, both physically and by reputation. The French starlet was as well-known for discarding love-tortured suitors
as Rafael was known for crushing women’s hearts. Louisa swallowed, looking down at the floor.

  Suddenly a fur coat was thrust into her arms. She nearly coughed at the weight and sensation of something so huge and fluffy—like a dead animal beneath her nose.

  “Take care of that, won’t you?” Rafael murmured to Louisa, not looking away from Dominique.

  “Of course, Mr. Cruz,” she replied miserably.

  The dinner party was sparkling. The company was served mezes, starters like stuffed vine leaves and dip, cooked artichokes and hummus with pide bread, along with cocktails and Argentinian wine. Louisa supervised the entire night, calming down the chef who though recovered from his earlier illness, seemed dangerously unhinged emotionally as he rushed around the kitchen. Realizing how many famous people were sitting in the dining room for Rafael’s birthday, the man seemed to abruptly disintegrate under pressure and, while shouting at one of his poor assistants, he nearly cut the end of his thumb off with a sharp knife.

  She’d prepared for this. She’d gone to the famous butler school in Miami when she’d realized she had no skills except taking care of people. And organizing homes. And, she thought dully, falling in love with her boss.

  Louisa managed the cook, calmed down the kitchen and then organized the waiters who brought out each course of the meal. Each time she went into the dining room she was involuntarily dazzled by the beautiful guests, by their sparkling conversations and witty repartee. She tried not to listen, but she could not help it. Just as she could not help noticing how Rafael looked into Dominique Lepetit’s lovely, wicked eyes with such apparent fascination as they leaned their heads together and she whispered something in his ear.

  She’d known Rafael would move on—but she’d never thought it would be at such lightning speed!

  She swallowed, feeling increasingly hot as she returned to the kitchen. How could she tell him she was pregnant?

  Should she even tell him?

  What if he rejected their baby? What if he not only blamed Louisa for the pregnancy, but he was never able to love the child they’d created, the child he’d never wanted?

  As the interminable dinner was finally drawing to an end, she went into the dining room and announced heavily that dessert and coffee would be awaiting them on the terrace. When one of the toothpick-skinny actresses asked her to list the desserts Louisa couldn’t stop herself from looking at Rafael when she mentioned the caramel macadamia brownies. Across the room, from where he sat beside Dominique Lepetit, Rafael’s slate-gray eyes suddenly locked with hers.

  The pouting French beauty abruptly knocked over her wineglass. “Oh! Mon dieu, but how clumsy of me!”

  With an intake of breath, Louisa hurried forward with a hand towel to clean up the mess. She saw Dominique’s feline smile as the beautiful girl leaned forward on the table, blocking Rafael’s gaze from her.

  One of the other guests, a very handsome dark-eyed man sitting across the table, watched the scene with interest. As Louisa straightened from the table with hot, flushed cheeks and the wine-soaked towel, her eyes met the stranger’s. His lips curved, as if he knew everything. Her cheeks, already red with humiliation, became hotter still.

  “Novros,” Rafael said, rising from the table with sudden sharpness. “We have business to discuss. It is time.”

  “Yes,” the other man said to him, his black eyes gleaming.

  “Excuse us,” Rafael said more smoothly to the other guests at the table, pausing for a particular smile at Dominique. “We will join you on the terrace in a moment. Miss Grey, will you show them the way, if you please?”

  “Of course, sir,” Louisa said over the lump in her throat.

  Once outside in the moonlit night, upon the high stone terrace overlooking the garden and the sparkling Bosphorus below, the guests scattered in pairs into the shadows. Louisa directed several maids in setting up the pastries, including the kadayif, the shredded puff pastry filled with nuts and honey, along with strong Turkish coffee, brandy and other liqueurs, serving them on sterling silver trays filled with antique copper goblets.

  As the maids bustled around her, Louisa paused in the moonlight. Blinking fast, she stared up into the inky-blackness of the sky twinkling with distant frozen stars.

  Just yesterday, she’d been his mistress. Just yesterday, she’d been free. Just yesterday, she’d had everything she’d ever wanted.

  A lot could change in just one day.

  By early autumn next year, she would be a mother. She would have a baby to love and care for.

  But would her child have a father? Would Rafael have any love for their baby—or would he just resent and despise the innocent child for being forced upon him?

  A shudder went through her body. She was afraid she already knew. He did not want a wife. Did not want a child. She had been a fool to ever dream otherwise. Louisa stared across the garden, yearning to run away and not even give Rafael the chance to despise and abandon them.

  Why had she not kept to her original plan and waited to become a wife, before she’d ever risked becoming a mother?

  Because she’d been in love with Rafael for years. And at twenty-eight years old, she hadn’t felt principled and idealistic. Her virginity had started to feel like a burden. She’d started to feel like she would never be wanted—never be loved.

  She took a deep breath when she heard the guests flirting and laughing among each other out in the shadows of the garden. As soon as she could get Rafael alone, she would be the idealistic, principled girl that she’d been raised to be. She would be strong. She would force herself to tell him the truth, even if it did nothing but hurt her.

  Wouldn’t she?

  Rafael was in hell.

  He’d been distracted all night. By returning to Istanbul. By his guests. By his birthday. By the business deal he was about to make.

  Most of all, by Louisa.

  He was trying his damnedest to push her away. To keep her at a distance. He was desperate to return to simply being boss and employee. He’d promised her it would be easy, hadn’t he? He’d promised her when they returned to Istanbul, everything would fall back into place. But his plan that never before failed—had failed.

  Somehow, after two days of making love to her, he still wanted her more than ever.

  And if that weren’t bad enough, Louisa had come down the stairs looking like some kind of damned sex symbol in a tight black dress. Was she trying to torture him? Or was it possible…she already knew his plan had failed, and so she was looking for a new employer?

  His hands tightened. From the moment he’d seen her in that dress, he’d hated the thought of any other man looking at her. One man above all—his business rival, Xerxes Novros. He’d invited his Greek rival to the party in his determination to finally close the real estate deal in Paris; but the two men were far from friends. Novros was such a callous womanizer, he made Rafael look like a damned saint. That was why Rafael had ordered Louisa to change clothes before the party. When she’d come down the stairs, looking so shockingly, glamorously beautiful in a way he’d never seen her before, he knew at once that she would attract the wrong attention.

  “By the way,” the Greek said coolly as they walked down the hall, “I never wished you a happy birthday.”

  “Thanks.” At thirty-seven, Rafael no longer felt young and invincible. His soul was starting to feel brittle around the edges. He was ready to leave this city, with his failure and the memory of his father’s funeral, far behind him.

  Rafael had hundreds, perhaps thousands, of friends around the world. They were amusing. They were witty. The women were beautiful and eagerly gave themselves to his bed. The men were all business rivals who placed bets and smiled through their teeth like wolves. He didn’t really give a damn about any of them, including the guests who were here tonight. He craved distraction.

  He craved…her.

  “You have a beautiful house,” Xerxes Novros said as he followed Rafael down the hall to his private study. “You
said your housekeeper supervised the refurbishment? That lovely creature in the sexy black dress?”

  “Yes,” Rafael growled as he snapped on the light. He closed the door behind them then picked up papers from his desk. “Your lawyers sent their corrections this morning. Sign these and we’ll be done.”

  “Does she have a lover?”

  “Who?”

  “Your housekeeper.”

  “None of your damned business.”

  Flashing him a smile, Novros flung himself down in a high-backed chair and looked idly through the contract.

  Rafael sat down at his desk, watching him. He never should have borrowed the man’s private Greek island the last two days, he thought grimly. It gave him the vague sense of being in the man’s debt. A dangerous feeling as he finished the negotiations of purchasing the real estate in Paris, a prestige property in the business district of La Défense. A dangerous feeling, as it brought Louisa to the other man’s notice.

  “It all appears to be in order.” Novros looked up with a lazy smile. “Throw in your housekeeper to seal the bargain, and we have a deal.”

  Rafael’s hand tightened on his pen.

  “Careful,” he growled through his teeth. He lifted his head, and his eyes glittered dangerously at his rival. “Don’t talk about her. Don’t even look at her.”

  Novros lifted a dark eyebrow. “I see,” he said mildly, and looked back at the papers. He shook his head and threw them back on his desk. “Sorry. I’m going to need more time to think about it.”

  Rafael clenched his jaw. He needed to break ground on the hugely expensive property at once in order to meet his schedule, and they both knew it. He wished to build a new headquarters for his international conglomerate in Paris. They’d already agreed on a price. He was tempted to smash the man’s face in.

  Instead he smiled.

  “Shall we throw in a sweetener?” Rafael suggested. “Sign it. Finish the deal. And this house—” he indicated the study with a generous sweep of his hand “—will be thrown into the bargain.”