Reckless Night in Rio

Gabriel stared at her, then staggered back.

“What?” he choked out.

“Robby is your—”

“I heard you,” he cried, putting his hands over his ears. But he couldn’t stop his mind from repeating those words. Robby is your son. “You’re wrong. It’s impossible.”

“No,” Laura said quietly. “Didn’t you notice how he looks so much like you? That he was born exactly nine months after our night together? How could you not know? How could you not see?”

He shook his head. “But—but it can’t be,” he gasped. “I was careful. I used protection.”

She shook her head. “Condoms have been known to fail—”

“Only to people who use them incorrectly,” he muttered. “I do not.”

“But even then, three percent of the time they—”

“No.” He held out his hand, blocking her words. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe, and loosened the tie on his tuxedo. “I can’t be his father. I can’t.”

Laura took a deep breath. She looked so beautiful in her white gown and veil. He’d never seen her look so innocent, so beautiful. So deceitful.

“I know this must come as a shock to you,” she said softly. She gave him a tremulous smile. “It was a shock for me, too. But Robby’s not an accident. He’s not a mistake.”

“Then what is he?” Gabriel demanded.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes luminous.

“A miracle,” she whispered.

Images of Robby’s chubby, smiling face went through his mind. His dark hair, his inquisitive dark eyes. Of course Robby was his son. Pacing, Gabriel raked his hair back with his hand. How could he have not seen it before?

Because he hadn’t wanted to see it, he thought grimly. Because having a child, when he’d killed his parents and prevented his brother from raising his, was the one thing he could not allow himself to do.

“I destroyed my own family,” he said in a low voice, staring blindly through the windows toward the wintry hills. “I don’t deserve another.”

Laura came slowly toward him, her beautiful face filled with tenderness and love, her eyes glowing with light.

“What happened that night was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. But you’ve buried yourself in the cemetery with them, not allowing yourself to be happy or loved, always punishing yourself—”

“Not punishment. Justice,” he said in a low voice, feeling as if his heart were being ripped out of his chest. “If I hadn’t tried to talk Guilherme out of having a family, if I hadn’t tried to talk him out of committing to his wife and baby, they would all be alive. Why should I enjoy the life I denied my own brother?”

“Your brother is gone. He forgave you long ago. But we’re still here, and we need you,” she said. She took a deep breath and lifted her tearstained eyes to his. “Please, Gabriel. I love you. Love me back.”

His jaw hardened as he stared down at her.

“Don’t use the word love,” he said harshly. “You lied to me. And you turned me into a liar, as well. I said I would never have a wife. Now look at me.” Rage burned inside him as he gazed down at his tuxedo. He ripped the tiny rose boutonniere out of his lapel. “Just look at me!”

She went pale beneath her wedding veil, and the beautiful light in her eyes dimmed. “I’m sorry. It’s why I didn’t tell you I was pregnant. I knew it wasn’t what you wanted, that you’d feel trapped by duty to a child. But—” she took a deep breath “—I couldn’t marry you. Not without telling you the truth.”

“Thank you,” he said coldly, pacing the carpet. He stopped. His body felt chilled, as frozen as a New Hampshire winter. Maybe because of the icy dagger she’d just plunged through his back. “Thank you, Laura, for being so trustworthy and decent.”

She flinched. Her eyes were red, her beautiful face swollen with tears. “I understand if you want to back out.”

“Back out?”

“Of the wedding,” she whispered.

He saw the way her petite, curvaceous body was shivering in her wedding dress. He forced himself not to care. What difference did her feelings make to him anymore? His lips curved as he looked at her scornfully. “I’m more determined to marry you now than ever.”