The Secret Baby Scandal

He looked down at her plate, at the lavish gourmet meal he’d tried to make that was now burned and inedible. He’d made a mess of dinner, just like his attempt to seduce her into marriage.

But he’d never thought it would be so hard. Angrily, he raked his hand through the back of his hair. How was it possible that the one woman he desired to marry was the only woman on earth who did not wish to marry him?

Carrie cleared her throat, and when she spoke, the tone of her voice had changed—as if she were deliberately trying to lighten the mood. “It’s been strange to have you serve me a meal,” she said softly. She smiled, and her eyes were endless pools of light in the flickering shadows. “Do you remember how we first met?”

He nodded. “I’d never seen any woman so beautiful,” he whispered. “I was mesmerized. I couldn’t take my eyes off you as you served our table.” He grinned. “And then you found out I’d just come from Paris, and you dumped half my food in my lap.”

“It was an accident!” she protested. She sighed. “You know I’ve always dreamed of seeing Paris. The Eiffel Tower, the charming little cafés, everything…” She looked down at her hands. “Someday I’ll see the City of Light. Someday.”

As he looked at her wistful face, a sudden jarring memory passed through Théo’s brain, like the echo of a whisper. It was possible that during their whirlwind affair he might have promised to take her to Paris. In Théo’s opinion, promises made in bed were widely considered not to be real vows—just fantasies used to heighten the pleasure. And yet he felt a certain regret looking down at her. Twice now he had brought Carrie all the way to the South of France, and yet she’d still never seen Paris—the headquarters of his company, only three hours by high-speed train, or less by private jet.

Pushing the uncomfortable thought away, he forced out a laugh. “Whatever the reason, you dropped a whole plate of food in my lap when I was in negotiation with my Japanese associates. Face it. Waitressing is not your true gift, chérie.”

“Yes. Well…” Her face fell even further. “I don’t need to worry about that now, since I have no job.”

He stared at her unhappy face and felt it again—that annoying pang of guilt. He tried to shrug it away. With his fortune, after they were married Carrie would never need to work again. But, looking at her eyes, he wondered suddenly if she’d had some childhood ambition. Strange that in their time together last year he’d never asked her. But then, during their brief affair they’d rarely managed to spend much time out of bed.

Taking her hand in his own, he leaned forward across the table. “What do you want to do?”

She lifted her eyes. “What will I do?” Her voice was listless. “Find another waitressing job, I suppose.”

“I don’t want to hear about jobs,” he said. “What is your dream?”

“Dream?” She frowned, as if he’d just spoken in a language utterly foreign to her.

Ironic, he thought, when Carrie Powell was the most dreamy, idealistic woman he’d ever met. How funny that he’d have to spell it out for her.

“When you were a child,” he said, “what did you want to be?”

“Oh.” She took a deep breath and her cheeks turned pink. “I never had a dream—not like that. Not really.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It is,” she fired back, then faltered. “Well, except…”

“Except?”

“Forget it. You’d just laugh at me.”

He leaned across the table. “Try me.”

She looked down at his hand over hers, then with an intake of breath she met his gaze. “All my friends dreamed of being doctors, teachers, lawyers. But not me. Ever since I was young there was only one thing I wanted to be.”

“What?”

“A wife. A mother.” With a strangled laugh, she tossed her head defiantly. “Go ahead and laugh. It’s pathetic, right? A woman in this day and age who just dreams of raising a family and taking care of the people she loves?”

“I’m not laughing,” he said quietly.

She still glared at him, clearly waiting for him to mock her. When he did not, she sank back into her chair, putting her head in her hands. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll find another waitressing job. Or maybe go back to school and train for something that will let me buy a little house of my own someday…”

Her voice trailed off.

“Let me give you your dream,” he said. “Let me help keep your family safe and secure—”

“You mean the family that you threatened, so you could blackmail me into staying here?”

He shook his head. “You will be a countess. With all my fortune at your command.”