low, harsh voice. Alarmed, she put her finger to her lips and drew him out of the bedroom. Closing the bedroom door softly behind her, she whirled, glaring at him.
“You want to be a father? Then you should know the first rule of parenting is Don’t wake the baby!”
He looked around the modest apartment. “I thought you said you got him a nice apartment.”
“It’s a wonderful place, you jerk!”
“You could have asked to stay at my loft in SoHo. I’m hardly ever there.”
It was so pointlessly cruel, Lola sucked in her breath.
“You tossed me out of your house. You said I disgusted you and you never wanted to see me again! You think I would ever ask you for help after that? I’d die first!”
Her eyes were stinging. She blinked hard and fast. She wouldn’t let herself cry. Only weak people, or children, cried in public and she hadn’t been either for a long time.
Rodrigo’s expression changed. He took a step toward her in the small apartment, his face half hidden by shadow.
“You don’t need to ask for my help, or anyone else’s, ever again.” His voice was low. “Because if the paternity test proves he’s my son, I’m going to marry you.”
A rush went through her. A thrill of terror—or was it joy?
“What?” she whispered numbly.
“For his sake.” His dark eyes burned through her. “You will be mine.”
* * *
Lola’s hazel eyes were astonished. As well they should be.
After three broken engagements, Rodrigo had never planned to propose again to anyone. For any reason. His youthful dreams of love and family and home were just that—dreams.
But looking at his sleeping son, he’d felt a hard shift in his soul that shocked him. Looking down at the baby’s face, so much like his own, he’d remembered his own lonely childhood. And he’d vowed, to the depths of his soul, that his son would never feel like Rodrigo had once felt.
Jett would never believe his father didn’t love him. He’d never feel like a burden, unwanted and unloved, as his parents left him in the care of nannies and neglected him for their own selfish romantic pursuits. His son would have a stable home. His parents would raise him together. There would be no instability in their family life, no revolving door of new lovers and spouses. They would be a family. With the same last name.
Lola might hate Rodrigo now, but she loved their son. That was clear in everything she’d done, even taking the million-dollar check that must have hurt her pride. But she’d done it, because she’d feared Rodrigo might try to take the baby from her.
She’d chosen custody of their son over the vast fortune Rodrigo could have offered her.
She’d made a mistake, taking the child from him. But he’d also made a mistake, believing the very worst of her.
For Jett’s sake, he would try to forgive. They would start fresh. He would accept his responsibility to his son. Lola would do the same.
Or would she?
“Marry you?” She breathed, her eyes wide. “You’re crazy.”
“Our son deserves a stable home. Surely you can see that.”
Lola’s forehead furrowed. “He has one! With me!”
He said stiffly, “I’m willing to forgive you for stealing him from me—”
“I didn’t steal him! I was protecting him!”
“But you have to realize that everything has changed now.”
Her beautiful face looked numb. “It doesn’t mean we have to marry. I know how you feel about marriage.” She took a deep breath. “After all your fiancées cheated on you...”
Rodrigo stiffened, wondering how she’d heard. He certainly hadn’t spoken about it over the years. But some people did know. His exes. Marnie. And gossip had a way of spreading, especially in his industry.
“This is different,” he said coldly. “We’re not in love.”
She didn’t look encouraged by this statement. Shaking her head, she lifted her chin stubbornly. “We can set up some kind of visitation schedule.”
“Are you serious?” He raised his eyebrows. “Shuttling our baby from place to place, coast to coast? Always separated from one parent? Never really sure of where his home is? No.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that. Lots of healthy, happy children have parents who aren’t married—”
“Not my son.”
She glared at him. “Why marriage?”
Rodrigo couldn’t explain to her what his childhood had been like. He’d never fully told anyone, not even the three women he’d claimed to love during his brief engagements long ago. He said shortly, “Is it so strange? I want us both to be there for our son. Every day. And for him to feel safe and loved.”
“And you think he doesn’t feel loved now?” she said indignantly.
“I know you love him, Lola. I can see it in everything you’ve done.” She relaxed slightly, until he added, “Which is the reason you’ll marry me.”
She scowled. “I’m not marrying someone I don’t love.”
Rodrigo drew closer, looking down at her in the small apartment. “You used to love me. Once.”
“I learned my lesson, didn’t I?”
“Fine. You don’t need to love me.” His lips curled. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you don’t. It keeps things simpler. But you will marry me, Lola. Soon.” Straightening the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket, he said, “Sleep on it. Once you’ve calmed down, you’ll see I’m right.”
“I won’t!”
Rodrigo looked down at her in the soft glow of the lamplight. His voice was low. “This is a dangerous world. Much can happen. Accidents. Illness. People can die.”
“Are you threatening me?” She gasped.
“What? No!” Jolted, he clawed his hand roughly through his dark hair. “I’m saying a child needs as much protection, as much security and love, as he can get. My parents died, Lola. One, then the other. What happened to yours?”
The blood drained from her face. She’d always refused to speak of her past, but now he knew his suspicions were right.
“You’re an orphan,” he guessed. Biting her lip, she looked away. “So our child already has a mark against him, with no grandparents to love him.” He set his jaw. “I’m an only child. So no uncles or aunts.”
Looking away, she muttered, “I have two sisters.”
His eyebrows raised in surprise. “You do?”
Lola stared at the floor. “I haven’t seen them for a long time.”
Rodrigo sensed some pain there, but he didn’t want to ask. He just pressed his advantage. “So already, our baby is more vulnerable, with no extended family. Don’t you want him to have a father? Think of what I can give him. What I can give both of you.”
She stiffened. “I don’t need more money—”
“Not just money. My name. My time. My protection. My love.”
She froze. “Your love.”
“Yes. A father’s love.” He set his jaw. “Jett needs me as much as he needs you, Lola. I want to be there for him, to help raise him, to teach him how to be a man. Together, you and I can give him a better childhood than we had.