pushed the traitorous thought aside. Even if Antonio rejected her and the baby outright, didn’t he have the right to know? Didn’t her baby at least deserve the chance to have a father?
“I need to tell you something,” she whispered. She glanced uneasily toward the two men sitting in the front seat, who were pretending not to listen. “About...that night.”
Antonio looked at her, his dark eyes like ice. “Which night is that?”
Did he truly not remember? His handsome face was so arrogant and cold, she almost wondered if the night he’d taken her virginity had been a dream. But the pregnancy test had left no doubt.
Hana lifted her chin and said clearly, “Our night together in Madrid. Two months ago.”
The eyes of the men in the front seat went wide. Antonio calmly pressed the button to close the privacy screen between the front and back of the luxury sedan. Once it was closed, he turned on her fiercely.
“You promised never to talk about it.”
“I know, but—”
“There’s no but. You gave me your word.”
“I have good reason—”
“I can imagine.” His jaw clenched as he turned away. “You will put that night from your mind, Miss Everly. It never happened.”
As the Rolls-Royce Phantom turned up the sweeping curve in front of a gleaming skyscraper overlooking the wide green-and-pink vistas of the East Gardens of the Imperial Palace, her voice was a squeak. “But—”
The car stopped, and a waiting doorman reached to open his door.
“It never happened,” Antonio repeated, and without bothering to look at her, he swept out, all masculine power and hard muscular angles in his dark suit and sharply tailored black cashmere coat.
Pulling her handbag over her shoulder, Hana climbed out behind him numbly. Her heart was pounding. She held her notebook and briefcase tightly against her chest, as if they could protect her.
“Welcome, Mr. Delacruz,” Emika Ito, the Tokyo team lead, greeted them in English with a respectful bow of her head. She was pretty, black-haired and chic. She smiled at Hana, who tried to smile back. “All is ready, sir.”
Standing on the sidewalk, Hana glanced at the building. Inside the glass and steel lobby, she saw the rest of the lead team already assembled, waiting for their arrival so they could go to their new office on the top three floors.
“Yes, of course,” Antonio said. “Thank you, Miss Ito. Give me a moment.” With a nod, the girl returned to the lobby, leaving Hana and Antonio alone, with his bodyguard at a discreet distance. He looked down at her.
“So you agree?” he said tersely. It was intimate, having them so close together on the sidewalk in the cool spring morning. “It’s forgotten?”
Hana felt a breeze against her hot cheek, saw a single cherry blossom floating and twisting in a tumult on the wind, before disappearing into the traffic of Hibiya Dori.
She couldn’t tell him. She just couldn’t. She’d nod and quietly go into the building, and be the assistant he needed during this important meeting. Afterward, she would quit. She would disappear. She bowed her head.
“Good,” he said. She saw the glint in his eyes as he turned toward the door. She tried to follow. To be silent.
But her heart wouldn’t let her.
“I’m pregnant, Antonio,” she heard herself blurt out.
Pregnant?
Antonio Delacruz froze, sure he’d heard her wrong. Above them, the sky was overcast as from a distance he heard ominous thunder.
Slowly, he turned to her on the sidewalk. “What?”
“You heard me.”
His eyebrows lowered fiercely. “April Fool’s Day was yesterday.”
“It’s not a joke. I’m pregnant.”
Antonio told himself he felt nothing. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, feel the rush of emotion suddenly circling him like a predator, looking for any crack in his armor, so it could invade and destroy his heart.
She’d slept with another man.
He tapped the roof of the car harder than necessary, and the chauffeur drove away from the curb. Forcibly relaxing his shoulders, he said merely, “I thought you had more sense.”
Hana’s sweep of dark eyebrows lifted over her warm brown eyes in surprise. “What?”
He wondered who the baby’s father might be. She’d been a virgin when—he cut that thought off immediately. But she must have found a new lover right after.
The same week?
The same night?
For Hana, it would be easy. Any man would desire her. Unwillingly, Antonio’s gaze traced over her slender form. Hana Everly was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, though he’d spent almost two years trying to pretend she wasn’t, trying to think of her as only his secretary and nothing more.
Her beauty was elusive and indefinable. All the attributes of her melting-pot American heritage combined into exquisite grace. He’d asked her once about her ancestry, and she’d shrugged. “I’m American. My family came from everywhere. England, Ireland, Brazil, Japan. Other places. And you, Mr. Delacruz?”
“Spain,” he’d said shortly. It was probably true, but he’d never know for sure.
Now, Hana looked at him, her brown eyes huge in her oval face, her lips pink and full, her dark hair pulled back into a long ponytail. Always the consummate professional, she wore an elegant, feminine white skirt suit that was simple and sleek as required for the executive assistant to a billionaire, without drawing undue attention.
And yet Hana always drew attention, whether she wished it or not. Even here on the Tokyo sidewalk, as men passed by, their eyes lingered on her. She looked untouchable as a star.
But Antonio had touched her. He was the only man who ever had.
At least so he’d believed—
“Is that all you have to say to me?” Hana said in a low, harsh voice, her lovely face caught between anger and pain. “You thought I had more sense?”
“I’m disappointed,” he said tightly.
“Disappointed,” she repeated.
He’d relied on her. Believed in her. Now she was pregnant by another man. She was going to quit her job to be with him and raise their child. That had to be the reason he felt this crushing sense of emotion, like he couldn’t breathe. Hana was the best damn secretary he’d ever had, and he was going to lose her.
How had she hidden her love affair from him? He and Hana had been working together day and night in Madrid and around the world, preparing to negotiate this deal. How had he not known she’d taken a lover?
Antonio had known Hana’s value as his assistant. So in spite of his attraction to her, he’d never crossed the line of professionalism, not once. Not until that night in Madrid, when he’d found her crying for reasons she wouldn’t explain. He’d been trying to comfort her—that was all, truly—when, like a miracle, she’d suddenly lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him full on the lips.
That kiss...
Antonio pushed away the memory, closing down his feelings, burying them along with the other things he didn’t want to remember.
All right, fine. She was leaving. He wouldn’t be a jerk about it. Hana had been a good assistant. He’d try to be happy for her.