Robby. “Yes.”
“How old is he?”
“Six months,” she said in a small voice.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “So tell me.” His voice was deadly and still as a winter’s night. “Who is the father of your baby?”
She’d wished so many times to be able to tell Gabriel the truth, dreamed of giving her son his father. With their baby squirming in her arms between them, the truth rose unbidden to her lips. “The father of my baby is…”
You. You’re Robby’s father. Robby is your son. But the words stuck in her throat. Gabriel didn’t want to be tied down with a child. If she told him her secret, nothing good would come of it. He might feel he had no choice but to sue for custody out of duty, resenting Robby, resenting her for forcing him into it. He might try to take their child to Brazil, away from her, to be given into the arms of some young, sexy nanny.
Laura would gain nothing by telling him. And risk everything.
“Well?” he demanded.
She flashed her eyes at him. “The identity of my baby’s father is none of your business.”
His own eyes narrowed. “You must have gotten pregnant immediately after you left Rio.”
“Yes,” she said unwillingly. She shivered, looking from father to son. Would he notice the resemblance?
But Gabriel turned on her, his dark eyes full of accusation. “You were a virgin when I seduced you. You said you wanted a home and family of your own. How could you be so careless, to forget protection, to let yourself get pregnant by a one-night stand?”
Gabriel had used protection, but somehow she’d gotten pregnant anyway. She said over the lump in her throat, “Accidents happen.”
“Accidents don’t happen,” he corrected. “Only mistakes.”
She set her jaw. “My baby is not a mistake.” “You mean it was planned?” He lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Who is the father? Some good-looking farmer? Some boy you knew back in high school?” He glanced around. “Where is this paragon? Why hasn’t he proposed? Why aren’t you his wife?”
Robby was starting to snuffle. Even in his long-sleeved shirt, he was getting cold, and so was she. Holding him close to her warmth, she shifted his weight on her hip. “I told you, it’s none of your business.”
“Is he here?”
“No!”
“So he deserted you.”
“I didn’t give him the chance,” she said. “I left him first.”
“Ah.” Gabriel’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly. “So you don’t love him. Will he cause any trouble when you take the child to Rio?”
“No.” “Good.”
“I mean—I’m not taking Robby there. I’m not going.” Her baby started to whimper as she turned away. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”
“Wait.”
The raw emotion in his voice made her hesitate. Against her better judgment she turned back. He stepped toward her, and she saw something in his expression she’d never seen before.
Vulnerability.
“Don’t leave,” he said in a low voice. “I need you.” I need you.
She’d once loved him. She’d served him night and day, existed only to please him. She had to fight that habit, that yearning, with every bit of willpower she possessed.
“Is a hundred thousand dollars not enough?” He came closer, his dark eyes bright in the moonlight, the white smoke of his breath drifting around them in the chilly night air. “Let’s make it a cool million. A million dollars, Laura. For a single night.” She gasped. A million…?
Reaching out, he stroked her cheek. “Think what that money could mean for you. For your family.” His fingers moved slowly against her cold skin, the lightest touch of a caress, warming her. “If you don’t care what it would mean for me, think what it could do for you. And all you need to do,” he said huskily, “is smile for a few hours. Drink champagne. Wear a fancy ball gown. And pretend to love me.”
Pretend. Blinking up at him, she swallowed the lump in her throat. Pretend to love him.
“Although I know it might not be easy,” he said dryly. Then he shook his head. “But you are not so selfish as to refuse.”
With an intake of breath, Laura clenched her hands into fists. “Maybe I am. Now.”
His sensual mouth curved. “The Laura I knew always put the needs of the people she loved above herself. I know that hasn’t changed.” His dark eyebrow lifted. “You probably stayed up all night making your sister’s wedding cake.”
Her lips twisted with a dark emotion. “I really hate you.”
“Hate me if you will. But if you do not come with me to Rio tonight…” He clawed his black hair back with his hand, then exhaled. His dark eyes seemed fathomless and deep, echoing with pain. “I will lose my father’s legacy. Forever.”
Shivering in the cold night, cradling her whimpering baby in the warmth of her arms, Laura looked up into Gabriel’s handsome, haggard face. She knew better than anyone what the Açoazul company meant to Gabriel. For years, she’d watched him scheme and plot to regain control of it. He hungered for it. His legacy.
Living in the house her great-great-great-great-grandfather had built with his own two hands, on the land her family had farmed for two centuries, Laura could understand the feeling. She looked at his face. It was a shock to see raw vulnerability in his dark eyes. It was an expression she’d never seen there before, not in all the years she’d worked for him. She could feel herself weakening.
One million dollars. For a single night of luxury in Rio, a night of beauty and pleasure. She looked down at her baby. What could that money do for her son? For her family?
But oh, the risk. Could she be strong enough to resist telling Gabriel the truth? For twenty-four hours, could she lie to his face? Could she pretend to love him, without falling in love with him again for real?
On the country road in front of their property, Laura saw a parked black sedan turn on its headlights, as if on cue. She heard the smooth purr of the engine as it slowly drove up the driveway. Over Gabriel’s head, moonlight laced the ridges of the dark clouds with silver.
She closed her eyes. “You will never come back looking for me after this?” she said in a low voice. “You will leave us in peace?”
Gabriel’s own voice was harsh. “Yes.”
Looking at him, Laura took a deep breath and spoke words that felt like a knife between her shoulder blades. The only words he’d left for her to say. “One night,” she whispered.
An hour later they arrived at the small private airport, where his jet waited outside the hangar. As they crossed the tarmac, Gabriel felt his blood rush in his ears as he stared down at her.
Laura was even more beautiful than he remembered. In the moonlight, her hair looked like dark honey. The frosty winter air gave her cheeks a soft pink glow, and as she bit her lower lip, her heart-shaped mouth looked red and inviting. For a single instant, when he’d first seen her at the farmhouse, he’d had the insane desire to kiss her.
He took a deep breath. He was tired, flying straight from Rio on his private jet. Even more than that, he was exhausted from the months of negotiations to buy back his father’s old company in Rio, to gain back the business that had been his birthright before he’d stupidly thrown it away as a grief-stricken nineteen-year-old.
He wouldn’t fail. Not this time. Gabriel glanced down grimly at his expensive platinum watch. They were still on schedule. Just.