Secrets Made in Paradise

Emerald stood, visibly drawing courage as she walked towards him. ‘I thought we could have more of a conversation.’

‘About what?’ There was nothing to discuss. He could provide a better place for them, there was no question of that.

But as he watched the pulse at the side of her neck flutter, his own accelerated. And she still didn’t begin to pack.

‘I can’t just leave,’ she said.

‘We need to work this out and we need time and space in which to do that.’ He tried to stay reasonable. ‘My place is bigger. Or do you want me to stay with you in this shoebox?’ He couldn’t resist stepping closer to her this time, or taking a Machiavellian delight in the way colour swarmed more boldly in her cheeks. ‘Is that what you want? Me to share that narrow bed with you?’

Her lashes dropped, veiling a sudden flare in her eyes.

That other feeling ripped through him. The one he’d desperately wanted to ignore. The one he’d given way to with such glee all those months ago. He gritted his teeth and cursed himself.

This woman had kept the most precious thing from him and when she’d discovered the truth of who he was, she’d still denied him, yet still all his body wanted was to haul hers beneath his so he could sample her sweet fervour. She’d been so hot that night and he ached to seduce her into that soft, arching slickness once more. He loathed his own weakness.

‘I can’t spend another night apart from him, Emmy,’ he said harshly, curling his hands into fists in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for her and admitting a painful truth in the process. ‘I have too much to catch up on.’

‘You can’t stay here,’ she said.

‘Then you’d better start packing.’ He paced away from her, turning to watch the boy from the safety of the window.

‘Where are you staying?’ she asked dully.

He didn’t feel like answering. He didn’t want to waste time or energy on words when the answer would be obvious soon enough. He had too much to process already. Moodily he watched his son. He had no idea how to even approach him.

‘Javier.’

He glanced over at the hesitation in her voice.

‘Will we be returning here?’ Her blue eyes were very wide, very worried.

He steeled himself against the emotion and the effect it had deep inside him. ‘What do you think?’

She blinked rapidly. ‘You can’t just expect us both to move in with you.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘I have a position here in which Luke can be with me full time. It’s the perfect arrangement.’

‘Perfect?’ He almost choked. ‘Living in this tiny room above a store where he’s exposed to exhaust fumes and strangers coming in and out all the time? You’re busy—he could get into strife when your back is turned.’

She stiffened. ‘I would never allow that to happen—’

‘But it could.’ He was laying it on thick, but he needed to win and he was going with his strongest play—which was her obvious desire to protect her son. ‘It’s not perfect for him. Or me.’

She swallowed. ‘You expect me to give up everything?’

‘You did that to me.’ As he gazed at her, the anger and desire within him coalesced. ‘So for eighteen months, yeah. You give up everything.’ The thought of having her with him, within his power, was appallingly appealing and he couldn’t resist demanding it. After all, wasn’t it only right and fair?

Not fair. His conscience needled, but the anger drowned out the discord.

‘Eighteen months?’ Her jaw dropped. ‘Luke’s only nine months old.’

‘I missed every moment of your pregnancy.’

‘That wasn’t your—that was my...’ She trailed off at the look in his eyes.

Eighteen months. Now he’d said it, he’d settle for nothing less.

‘I think if you tell Connie the truth, she’ll understand completely,’ he said crisply. ‘I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you both in a better situation and for Luke to have his father in his life.’

He’d never wanted a family on terms like this—a surprise with a woman he barely knew and who’d hidden the truth from him. But he’d do what was right by his son. He’d do better than his own parents had done for him. Somehow. He was determined to.

‘How long have you known?’ Emerald asked as she fetched a worn striped bag and opened it up. ‘Javier?’ she prompted when he didn’t respond.

He clenched his jaw but knew he had to make an effort and respond even though he hated reliving that moment he’d seen her again. ‘I saw you from a distance yesterday afternoon when Connie was returning Luke to you. If I hadn’t been there...’ That possibility made him see red again. ‘So it’s only a few hours since I saw his birth certificate.’ He broke off, determined to control his surge of anger, purely because of the small piece of innocence cooing on the play mat. ‘He deserves the best from both of us.’

Emmy stared at Javier. The remnants of anger and hurt were evident in his eyes but she also saw that, despite his reluctance to speak more, he was trying. And what choice did she have? He was right. Luke deserved better and she had failed him. She’d been too scared to reach out once she knew who her ‘Ramon’ really was.

But the feeling she was fighting hardest? That slithering ripple of desire that had twisted into life the second she’d seen him again. And the moment he’d mentioned sleeping in her small bed? A wave of heat engulfed her again. It was so wrong. So stupid and selfish and wrong.

‘It won’t take me long to pack.’ Her voice cracked and she hurriedly began filling her bag. She didn’t have much, nor did Luke, so it wouldn’t take long. But as she shoved their belongings together, she couldn’t let this continue without trying to explain herself a little more to Javier.

‘I left early that morning because I had to get to a project on another island. I’ve been a volunteer abroad for a while,’ she said. ‘That night, I’d just wanted an escape and you were...’ She trailed off and swallowed uncomfortably. She couldn’t explain that bit any more—it was too embarrassing to admit how she’d decided to keep that night as the fantasy it had been. She’d not wanted to spoil the memory of it with an awkward goodbye that next morning.

‘When I realised I was pregnant I was worried,’ she continued as Javier stood still as still by the window, silently watching. ‘I hid it for as long as I could because I couldn’t afford to lose my volunteer visa. But then Lucero, the head of the foundation, found out. He was very kind. He helped me, so did others in the community.’ She had been so grateful to the elderly man when she’d had nowhere else to go. ’I didn’t discover your real identity until the property deal was announced after he died. Luke was already a few months old.’

That time had been horrible. She’d been alone, angry, scared, so tired and so broke she was trapped. She’d been grateful and dependent on first Lucero’s, then Connie’s support. And when she’d finally found out who Javier really was, she’d become terrified that he might find out about their baby. ‘I felt betrayed. Lucero was gone, you’d lied. I was hormonal and I had this tiny little boy who’d become the most precious thing in my life and when I learned who you really were I was afraid...’ She trailed off again and shook her head hopelessly. How could she ever explain herself to Javier without telling him the rest of her background? But it was too dangerous to do that. She couldn’t trust he wouldn’t use it against her.

‘Afraid of what?’ Javier eventually prompted.

She shrugged. ‘That you’d swoop in and take him from me.’

She registered the immediate flash of furious hurt in his eyes.

Maybe he’d think she was irrational or over-emotional or something. But the fear of him taking Luke from her wasn’t irrational in her view. Because that was what happened. Powerful people took away the things she loved most. Powerful people judged and they’d always found her wanting. People had judged her

all her life—slandering her intentions and decisions. Because of her parents, her brother and, yes, the mistakes she’d made herself. People who knew her past didn’t trust her. So she didn’t trust people in return. Particularly if they had privilege and money and Javier Torres had both.

She had no power with which to fight him, so she’d felt she had no choice but to hide. Luke was too precious. And how could she trust Javier when he’d lied to her from the first?

There was another long moment of silence and she sensed him grappling the emotion, almost as if he were carefully choosing what words he was comfortable to release.

‘I’m not a monster, Emerald. But make no mistake, I’m no hero either,’ he said so expressionlessly that she shivered. ‘So I’m swooping in and taking you too.’

His expression was now so fixed it was unreadable—and he was so far from the smiling man she’d met on the beach that evening.

‘Is that everything packed?’ he asked curtly.

Didn’t he want to hear more of her side of the story? Didn’t he want to ask more or offer any further explanation of his own actions? Didn’t he want to forgive her?

No. Of course he didn’t. People who were quick to judge never did. They didn’t want to revise their opinions once they’d leapt to their conclusions.

She felt sick. She’d been lost in a fog of desperation, struggling to feed Luke and scared for their future—afraid that exactly this would happen. She couldn’t risk telling Javier all her truth now, not when he was this remote and disapproving. Her whole background would appal him. But this time she couldn’t pack her bag and run away. She had to stay and fight for Luke. She’d escaped her past before, she’d figure out a way to get through this too. And nothing mattered more than Luke’s well-being. She’d put up with anything to ensure he was safe and well.

But she wondered if Javier could say the same. Or was this just a powerful man used to being in control venting his anger at being kept in the dark? Was this about him getting control back more than it was about Luke?