Sensible Housekeeper, Scandalously Pregnant Page 8

  At eighteen, he’d made it his mission in life to get rich. Ten years later, he’d ruined the woman—and her husband—in payback.

  Rafael would never feel desperate over a woman again. It was why he could never have children. He would never give a woman that kind of power over him. Never feel vulnerable again. Never.

  He looked at Louisa. Especially her. She had too much power over him already.

  Against his will, Rafael’s gaze dropped to her lush mouth. Even now, wondering if she’d tricked him, wondering if she were the most accomplished liar he’d ever met, Rafael couldn’t stop wanting to kiss her. His body ached for her.

  “So if I were pregnant, you would really wish to marry me?” she whispered.

  In spite of all her defiance, he saw that she wished to marry him. She wanted to pin him down. She was no different from all the rest.

  He said evenly, “There’s no way I would allow my child to be raised by some other man. So I would make you my wife. Is that what you want, Louisa?” he said dangerously. “Is that what you’ve wanted all along?”

  With a deep intake of breath, she looked away from him, staring out at the view of Istanbul across the Bosphorus. So close across the water, but it was another continent entirely—Asia.

  Clenching his hands into fists, he stared at her. Louisa was like that. So close, and yet so far. She was standing beside him. He could feel the warmth of her skin. And yet she was so far away. He realized he’d never really known her at all.

  “Would you be a good father?” she whispered into the night, still not looking at him. “Would you love our child?”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at her lovely face, so different without glasses. Her eyes were wide and deep as the night. Her long dark hair brushed against her creamy shoulders in the soft breeze. She was the most beautiful, elusive woman he’d ever known. And he hated her for her beauty.

  When he spoke, his voice was low and even.

  “I would marry you for the baby’s sake. But I would make you pay for trapping me into marriage,” he continued in a low voice. He reached out and brushed a tendril of hair off her cheek with his fingertips. He felt her shiver beneath his touch as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “I would make you pay…and pay…and pay.”

  “What do you mean?” she gasped, shuddering.

  He gave a cold, cruel smile as he straightened. “I would take pleasure of you in my bed until I had my fill.” He stared down at her. “I would own you, as you would never own me.”

  She sucked in her breath.

  She looked up at him, her eyes troubled in shadow. “But would you love our baby?”

  Suddenly he was done with her endless evasions. Setting his jaw, he reached into his pocket for a cell phone. He dialed a number and spoke into the phone. “Dr. Vincent, please.”

  “What are you doing?”

  He looked at her coldly. “Since you refuse to tell me if you’re pregnant, I will have you examined by my doctor in Paris.”

  Louisa ripped the phone from his hands and ended the call. She took a deep breath.

  “Well?” he said coolly.

  “I’m…” She licked her lips.

  He stared at her, his heart full of darkness and fury.

  “I’m…” she said in a low voice. She took a deep breath, briefly closing her eyes as she said, “I’m not pregnant.”

  He exhaled in a rush. “You’re not?”

  She stared at him. Her eyes were pools of darkness.

  Relief coursed through him, almost making him stagger.

  He hadn’t been wrong about her! She could be trusted! He hadn’t been such a fool as he’d feared!

  Then, staring at Louisa’s tight shoulders and barely concealed fury, he reconsidered that statement. If she was innocent, he’d just treated her very badly indeed.

  Looking at her with sudden regret, he rubbed the back of his head wryly. He’d let Novros’s suspicions get to him. The Greek bastard had probably made it all up, he thought in irritation, spinning the facts for his own reasons, hoping to cause friction between Rafael and his housekeeper. Hoping he could get Louisa for himself!

  He sighed. So who was a stupid fool after all…?

  “Sorry,” he said, spreading his hands wide and giving her his best smile. “Forgive me. I let my suspicions get the best of me. I should have known I could trust you, Louisa…”

  But as he reached out for her shoulder, she backed away before he could touch her.

  Rafael ground his teeth, silently cursing both his own untrusting nature and the Greek business rival who’d so easily managed to cause such trouble in his household.

  “So, Miss Grey,” he said in a determinedly jocular voice, “your housekeeping skills are desperately needed at my apartment in Buenos Aires. Please go fix it up, just as you’ve done here. There’s no reason to stay in Istanbul any longer, as I just gave this house away in a business deal—”

  “You did what?”

  “You’ll fly to Argentina in the morning. I will follow in a week or two, after I’ve completed the Paris deal.”

  For a moment, she was silent. Then she said a single cold word.

  “No.”

  He tried again. “You will, of course, receive a muchdeserved raise. I intend to double your salary.”

  “No,” she bit out. She lifted her chin, and her eyes glittered. “I’ve done nothing, nothing to deserve the humiliating treatment you’ve given me. My only mistake was sleeping with a heartless playboy, knowing what kind of man you were!”

  He set his jaw. “Louisa, you must believe I never meant—”

  “I’m not finished!” she nearly shrieked. “For the last month, I’ve asked myself again and again how I could have slept with you in Paris. Then I did it again, letting you convince me to be your mistress on that Greek island. I wanted you so desperately. For years, I’ve made excuses for your bad behavior. I told myself you had some goodness deep inside you. I’ve devoted every moment of the last five years to making your life comfortable. But now, I see you how you really are. How could I have ever let myself love you? A coldhearted, selfish bastard like you?”

  “I never asked you to love me.” He gritted his teeth. “And I paid you well—”

  “You’ll never pay me another penny,” she interrupted in a low, cold fury. “I won’t take one more dime from you. Ever.”

  He took a deep breath. “Louisa, you’re just upset,” he said in a reasonable voice. “I admit I was rude to jump to conclusions, but surely you can see how your past looked to me? I am sorry I accused you of trying to trap me. I should have known you would never try to purposefully get pregnant with a child neither of us want. Forgive my stupidity,” he said humbly. “Let’s forget all this unpleasantness. Leave it behind and return to how we were. Boss. Valued employee.”

  She shook her head, her face a mask of repressed fury and some other emotion he could not read. Disgust? Grief?

  “I will never work for you again,” she whispered. “God help any woman stupid enough to be completely under your control. I’m done with you, Rafael. I never want to see you again.” She lifted her chin, and her eyes glittered. “I quit.”

  Chapter Six

  Sixteen months later

  THE bakery had been busy all day amid the hubbub of the early spring season in Key West. Outside, the sun was warm, glimmering off the turquoise sea and a cruise ship docked nearby. It was only early afternoon, but Louisa guessed that she’d already served nearly every tourist on that ship. As she worked the counter, she glanced at the ship briefly through the storefront window that proclaimed Grey’s Bakery.

  Then, as the family of six left with their arms full of doughnuts and cookies, Louisa turned with an apologetic smile to the last customer. “Good afternoon. I’m so sorry for the wait—”

  Then she finally got a good look at the man who’d been behind the throng of tourists. She sucked in her breath. The tongs she’d been holding dropped to the floor with a clang.

&nb
sp; Rafael looked down at her, smiling with his dark eyes.

  “Hello, Louisa,” he said. “How are you?”

  She stared at him in shock, unable to speak.

  It had been almost a year and a half since she’d left him in Istanbul, this selfish, coldhearted man who hadn’t wanted either a wife or a child. He looked at her now with the exact same gray shade of eyes as her baby son, who was now almost eight months old. The baby who was right now sleeping in the tiny office behind the counter. The baby he didn’t know about.

  Involuntarily she moved a little to the right, blocking his view of the office door. What was Rafael doing in Florida? Had he somehow found out about Noah?

  “What are you doing here?” she choked out.

  “You don’t look pleased to see me.” He rubbed the back of his dark hair and glanced up at her with a sheepish half smile. “I guess you’re not the one who sent the letter. I hoped you were.”

  “Letter?” She hid her shock by leaning down behind the counter to pick up the tongs from the tile floor. She turned and dropped them into a sinkful of soapy water. Bracing her hands against the sink, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Not exactly a letter,” he clarified. “It was a flyer advertising your bakery. Someone sent it to my office in Paris.”

  A chill went through her. She knew just who’d sent it. Damn Katie!

  Fear pierced her heart.

  Don’t be afraid, she told herself desperately. Why should Rafael Cruz frighten her? She was no longer his employee. No longer his lover. This was her bakery, hers and her sister’s, and if Louisa chose, she would throw him out onto the street!

  He had no power over her, she told herself. None whatsoever.

  But she knew that was a lie. She thought of her baby in the darkened room behind her. If he knew about Noah…

  Could he possibly know?

  Sucking in her breath, she turned to face him. Her eyes searched his face.

  Then she exhaled. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. If he’d known, he wouldn’t be looking at her with an expression that was so open and friendly and warm. He would have come in here with all guns blazing.

  “What do you want, Rafael?” she bit out. She would never call him Mr. Cruz, ever again.

  “I’ve missed those caramel brownies of yours,” he said. “I’ll pay for them, of course.”

  She heard the echo of his long-ago words. I would make you pay…and pay…and pay. She lifted her chin. “I thought I made it clear that I never wished to see you again.”

  “You did,” he admitted. “But when I got that letter, I realized that I wanted to see you.” He smiled at her. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  The smile he gave her would have melted the heart of any woman.

  But not hers. Never again. She glared at him, then turned with an elaborate smile to help a new customer who’d just come in her store. He waited with unusual patience as she served the other customer. After the tinkle of the bell as the customer went back onto the boardwalk with a bagful of doughnuts, Louisa finally turned to him coldly.

  “I have nothing to say to you. Please leave.”

  “I had to find you, Louisa. To tell you,” he said, “to tell you I’m…sorry.”

  She stared at him.

  He was sorry.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” she said coldly. “I’m glad you forced me to quit. My life now is exactly what it should be.” After she’d fled Istanbul, she’d returned to Miami, where she’d been stunned to discover Katie was a widow, living in a mobile home and barely able to support her five-year-old daughter. They’d hugged and cried in each others’ arms. Now, they were sisters again. They were a family. Louisa lifted her chin. “You did me a favor.”

  He looked at her ruefully. “I did?”

  Louisa nodded coldly. She’d used her savings to start this bakery on Key West, a place she’d visited long ago. This bakery wasn’t just a family business, it was a labor of love. Even her little niece, who was now in first grade, helped out. The two sisters worked here during the day, and lived upstairs with their children in a small apartment above the bakery.

  She had the perfect life now. She had her family, a successful business she loved and friends on this island. And if she still sometimes dreamed of Rafael, hot dreams of longing in the night—well, what of that? She didn’t want him. She was better off without him!

  Rafael looked at her. His eyes were as deep and dark as the Caribbean at midnight. He shook his head. “Ever since you left Istanbul, I’ve regretted my behavior that day. I never should have let my suspicions get the better of me.”

  “Forget it,” she said shortly.

  “I cannot.” He looked at her regretfully, then with a sigh, he clawed back his dark hair. “I accused you of trying to get pregnant with my child. You! Of all women on earth, I should have known you would not do such a thing!”

  She surreptitiously glanced back at the room where their baby was sleeping. She heard the soft snuffle of Noah’s heavy breath. He would be hungry and waking soon. Katie had gone to pick up her daughter from school, but any moment now she’d be back to take her turn working the counter.

  Her interfering, well-meaning sister would no doubt be thrilled to see Rafael. Curse her.

  “Forgive me,” Rafael said humbly, bowing his head. “I am sorry for how badly I treated you.”

  She heard her baby shift in his playpen, heard his snuffle as he started to wake up.

  “I forgive you,” she said abruptly.

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” She had to get Rafael out of her bakery—fast. She moved behind the counter, using fresh tongs to pick up some of her caramel brownies, the most popular item at the bakery, and put them in a white bag. “Here,” she said. “Take these as a peace offering. On the house.”

  “Thank you.” He took the bag, but he did not leave as she’d hoped. Instead he hesitated, propping the bag on the side counter as he slowly looked around the shop. “It’s a beautiful store.”

  “Thanks,” she said unwillingly.

  “How did you end up here? At this remote island?”

  Not remote enough, she thought, looking at him. “My sister was still living in Miami with her daughter. Her husband had died the year before.”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “I just heard about that.”

  “Right.” Matthias Spence, the handsome, wealthy older man the Grey sisters had once fought over, had died of a heart attack shortly after the government had seized his remaining fortune for milking his investors in a money-making scheme. “But we’re all doing fine now.”

  “Really?” he said softly.

  “Yes,” she ground out. Except she was going to kill Katie for sending Rafael the flyer. Her sister had been pestering her for the last year to tell Rafael about Noah. Louisa folded her arms. How could Katie have gone behind her back like this?

  “I’m glad you’re doing well,” Rafael said in a low voice. “You deserve to be happy.”

  “Yes.” But her success came at a price. Between caring for the baby and the bakery, Louisa only slept six hours a night at most. She was so tired. So, so tired. And Rafael looked more devilishly handsome than ever, well-rested and well-groomed in his black button-down shirt and slim-fitting jeans. “We work hard,” she said. “Matthias left nothing to my sister. The bakery needs constant attention, as do the children.”

  “Children?” he asked.

  Louisa bit her tongue, furious at her mistake. But before she could come up with an explanation, the bell chimed at the door.

  “Sorry I’m late.” Her sister came in with her niece, who was carrying a backpack and several large sheets of artwork. “The line at the school was so long. It seems all the parents wanted to pick up their kids today…Oh.” She stopped, staring at Rafael. “Hello.”

  Louisa glared at her. “Look who dropped by for a visit. My old boss.”

  Katie had the audacity to smile and hold out her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Cruz.”

  “Call me Rafael.”

  “Rafael.”

  Behind them, Louisa simmered with fury. Then she jumped when she heard her baby give a soft mewling whimper from behind the office door. She glanced at Rafael, but by some miracle, he hadn’t heard it. Yet.

  “I think I’ll give him a quick tour around the island,” Louisa interrupted abruptly. She looked at Rafael. “Would you like that?”

  He looked startled, but instantly said, “Yes.”

  Louisa untied her apron. “Take over the counter for me, Katie. Feed the little one with what I left in the fridge.” She gave her sister a hard look. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Looking abashed, her sister nodded. Katie would make sure to feed Noah some of the milk she’d left in the fridge.

  Hanging her apron up on a hook, Louisa came around the counter. Kicking off her sturdy shoes and shoving her feet into flip-flops, she pulled out her bun and shook out her hair, letting it tumble down her bare shoulders over her tank top. “Have you seen Key West?”

  “No,” he said, looking at her shoulders and hair. His gaze lifted slowly from her chest to her neck to her lips to her eyes. “When my plane landed, I came straight here.”

  “You’re in for a treat,” she said grimly. “Come with me.”

  Rafael couldn’t stop looking at her.

  Louisa had changed so much in sixteen months, he thought. How much had changed? Her hair? Her face? Her clothes? Yes, but it was more than that.

  For the last year and a half, when he’d dreamed of Louisa, he’d pictured her either naked or in a gray shapeless skirt suit, wearing black glasses over her pale skin with her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun.

  This new Louisa looked nothing like the tight, prim, aloof housekeeper he remembered.

  Now, her face was tanned, bringing out the natural beauty of her bare face. He could see the intense color of her eyes in the sun. Her lips were deep pink. Her hair no longer was pulled back into the tight bun, but now fell down her shoulders, highlighted by the sun into the color of dark honey. She’d put on a few pounds in all the right places. His eyes traced the shape of her body beneath the aqua-colored tank top and madras shorts. What was different?