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Then her lovely face hardened, in that aloof, cold expression he knew so well.
“So I’m a mere housekeeper now, am I?” she said in a low voice. Her dark eyes glittered. “Just what sort of payout do you think I want?”
He set his jaw. “Marriage.”
She sucked in her breath. “Marriage?”
“You know very well,” he said grimly, “if you were pregnant, I would have no other choice.”
They stared at each other in the shadows of the garden.
Looking down at her beautiful face, Rafael’s body hurt with tension and fury.
He’d always vowed he would never get trapped by any woman. It had happened to him once, and that was enough. At seventeen, he’d fallen for an older woman who’d callously dropped him to marry a wealthy man. When Rafael had pleaded with her to marry him instead, she’d laughed at his tiny diamond ring. The faded Cruz fortune wasn’t nearly enough to tempt her, she’d said. She liked his body well enough, but money was what mattered most to her.
At eighteen, he’d made it his mission in life to get rich. Ten years later, he’d ruined the woman—and her husband—in payback.
Rafael would never feel desperate over a woman again. It was why he could never have children. He would never give a woman that kind of power over him. Never feel vulnerable again. Never.
He looked at Louisa. Especially her. She had too much power over him already.
Against his will, Rafael’s gaze dropped to her lush mouth. Even now, wondering if she’d tricked him, wondering if she were the most accomplished liar he’d ever met, Rafael couldn’t stop wanting to kiss her. His body ached for her.
“So if I were pregnant, you would really wish to marry me?” she whispered.
In spite of all her defiance, he saw that she wished to marry him. She wanted to pin him down. She was no different from all the rest.
He said evenly, “There’s no way I would allow my child to be raised by some other man. So I would make you my wife. Is that what you want, Louisa?” he said dangerously. “Is that what you’ve wanted all along?”
With a deep intake of breath, she looked away from him, staring out at the view of Istanbul across the Bosphorus. So close across the water, but it was another continent entirely—Asia.
Clenching his hands into fists, he stared at her. Louisa was like that. So close, and yet so far. She was standing beside him. He could feel the warmth of her skin. And yet she was so far away. He realized he’d never really known her at all.
“Would you be a good father?” she whispered into the night, still not looking at him. “Would you love our child?”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her lovely face, so different without glasses. Her eyes were wide and deep as the night. Her long dark hair brushed against her creamy shoulders in the soft breeze. She was the most beautiful, elusive woman he’d ever known. And he hated her for her beauty.
When he spoke, his voice was low and even.
“I would marry you for the baby’s sake. But I would make you pay for trapping me into marriage,” he continued in a low voice. He reached out and brushed a tendril of hair off her cheek with his fingertips. He felt her shiver beneath his touch as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “I would make you pay…and pay…and pay.”
“What do you mean?” she gasped, shuddering.
He gave a cold, cruel smile as he straightened. “I would take pleasure of you in my bed until I had my fill.” He stared down at her. “I would own you, as you would never own me.”
She sucked in her breath.
She looked up at him, her eyes troubled in shadow. “But would you love our baby?”
Suddenly he was done with her endless evasions. Setting his jaw, he reached into his pocket for a cell phone. He dialed a number and spoke into the phone. “Dr. Vincent, please.”
“What are you doing?”
He looked at her coldly. “Since you refuse to tell me if you’re pregnant, I will have you examined by my doctor in Paris.”
Louisa ripped the phone from his hands and ended the call. She took a deep breath.
“Well?” he said coolly.
