The Baby the Billionaire Demands

“No,” she said steadily. “It started before that. Because every time you got engaged, you disappeared. For weeks or months. And you did the same thing after you married me.”

His expression changed. Releasing her, he turned away. Going to the wet bar, he poured himself a short glass of forty-year-old Scotch. He took a drink, then finally turned to face her. “You’re right. I learned not to trust anyone long ago. When I was a boy.”

“Your parents,” she whispered, looking at him.

Rodrigo took another gulp of Scotch. The moonlight caressed the hard edges of his face. “My father wasn’t my father.”

“What?” She gasped.

“My whole childhood, I always felt like my father despised me. He never hugged me. He barely looked at me.” He looked away. “At his funeral, my mother told me why. He’d known all along I wasn’t his son.” A sardonic smile traced his sensual lips. “She’d had a brief affair with the chauffeur. Just one of many. She enjoyed throwing his love for her back in his face.”

“So that’s why you wanted the paternity test,” Lola said slowly. “And why you insisted on marrying me.”

“I didn’t want my child to ever feel like I felt that day,” he said in a low voice. “Or any other days.”

Lola no longer wondered why he had trust issues. Indeed, now she could only wonder that he was able to trust anyone at all.

Rodrigo stared out the window bleakly, toward the dark, moonlit beach. “Growing up, I could hardly wait to get married. I wanted a real family, a real home. But it was never real.” He gave her a crooked smile. “With Pia, I fell in love with the role she played in a movie, not her. Ulrika and I just argued all the time. Elise—well, we both loved our careers more than each other.”

“She said to tell you thanks, by the way. For breaking up with her. Giving her more time to work.”

“That sounds like her. And I felt the same.” Looking back out the window, he said softly, “Maybe you were right. Maybe I always knew they were wrong for me. And I was glad for the excuse to leave.”

Lola swallowed. “But you didn’t—”

“Didn’t set them up to cheat on me?” He shook his head, his dark eyes luminous in the shadows. “No.”

Looking at his face, she believed him.

“Now I have a question for you.” Gulping down the last of the Scotch, he set the glass down on the end table. “Is there something you’re keeping from me? Some secret?”

“Secret?” She frowned. “I just wanted to know what happened to your engagements. If you were behind the betrayals.”

His dark gaze cut into her soul. “Why?”

“Because—” she took a deep breath “—I had to know if you were going to do the same to me.”

Rodrigo stared at her. Then he pulled her into his strong arms.

“I will never betray you, Lola.” He looked down at her fiercely. “Not in that way, nor any other. When I spoke those vows to you, I meant them.” He cupped her cheek. “To love and cherish. For the rest of our lives.”

As she stared up at him, feeling the gentle touch of his powerful hand, a rush of relief went through her so great, she almost cried. She hadn’t realized until this moment how tense she’d been. How afraid.

“I believe you,” she said.

His dark eyes turned warm. “You do?”

“Yes.”

His hand moved softly down her neck, through her blond hair, hanging down her shoulders. “I bought you a Christmas present.”

“You did?” Just knowing that he hadn’t sabotaged his past engagements, and wasn’t trying to secretly end their marriage, was all the gift she needed. But he was looking at her so expectantly, she said, “What is it?”

He gave her a wicked smile. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“I heard from my sisters today,” she blurted out.

He pulled back to look at her, his dark face unreadable. “You did?”