CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

R AUL HAD OFTEN heard the expression ‘the bottom fell out of someone’s world’, and he’d always thought it to be a slightly indulgent concept. He’d experienced many shocks in his life, many turns of event which had required him to dig deep and find his inner strength and determination, but he’d never once believed the bottom could fall out of his world.

Until that moment, when everything in his life lost its familiar shape and context, even his own self.

The universe shifted.

No! he wanted to shout. He wanted to reject her statement with every cell in his body. He wanted to pull apart the universe with his bare hands and shake this reality away. He couldn’t be a father. Not to anyone. He couldn’t be anything to anyone. He was a loner. Born that way, raised that way, he was better on his own.

His breathing grew rough and he stared at Libby, as if just by looking at her he could undo the words she’d spoken, or make better sense of them. As if by staring at her he could make sense of anything.

Her head was bent and the sun sliced through the kitchen, bathing her head in gold, like a halo. His eyes dropped of their own accord to her stomach. It was flat and neat, just as he remembered from that afternoon. She was naturally slim, but as he lifted his gaze back to her face his attention lingered on her breasts. Was he imagining them to be more rounded than they had been then? Was that proof of her assertion?

Was there any likelihood this wasn’t true?

Why would she lie?

He’d used a condom, but that wasn’t foolproof. He lifted a hand to his jaw, rubbing it across his chin, staring straight ahead without speaking. He’d been knocked sideways by her statement, but now his brain was clicking back into gear, spinning furiously fast in an attempt to analyse this properly.

She was clearly poor.

Her choice of occupation was hardly well paid, and her apartment was further proof that her means were stretched. Pregnancy might seem like a way to get some extra cash. Was that her end game?

Not that she’d planned this, of course. How could she have? The entire thing was spontaneous, brought on by the dramatic events of that day. He’d ensured, as he always did, that protection was used. He didn’t ask if she was on contraception, he’d simply assumed a woman of her age would be, but that was obviously a stupid miscalculation.

‘I see,’ he said eventually, the words flattened of any emotion, even when he felt this news in the very core of his being.

Her head remained lowered, eyes shielded from him.

His brain whirled even as his body was in the midst of a classic fight or flight response.

Raul’s instincts were shaped by his own experiences, but he would not betray them until he understood Libby’s intentions, until he understood himself better too. A baby was just about the worst thing that could happen to him—he’d never wanted children—and yet...even as he knew that to be true, there was something about this news that was punching him hard in the gut, making him fight for the child he’d never even wanted.

‘And?’ he asked, waiting with the appearance of patience.

Her eyes finally lifted, met his, and something jolted inside of his gut.

This was the mother of his child. They barely knew one another, yet here she was, standing in front of him with the face of an angel, telling him they’d made a baby together. A primal, fierce possessiveness fired in his blood.

‘I never knew my dad,’ she said, lips pulling to the side. ‘I didn’t even know his name.’ Her brow crinkled as she contemplated that. ‘I don’t need you to be involved. I don’t need you for anything,’ she added, tilting her chin defiantly. ‘But I did think you deserved to know. And our child will know about you too. Whatever capacity you choose to be in their life is up to you, and them, when they’re old enough to decide.’

For the second time in as many minutes, the bottom fell out of his world.

It was a new sensation and he didn’t like it at all.

She’d started the conversation with such uncertainty but, having made her pronouncement, she’d really taken the bull by the horns. Could she have any idea how deeply unsettling her description was to Raul?

Of course not. How could she?

He was being forced to grapple, at lightning speed, with something he hated the idea of yet now had to accept as reality. She was, on the one hand, offering him a way out. He could provide her with money so she could live comfortably and raise this baby without him.

But not wanting a child was not the same thing as being willing to ignore his own child, now that it was a reality rather than a theoretical scenario. The very idea was anathema to Raul, and he didn’t have to be a psychotherapist to understand why.

No one had fought for him. No one had protected him. And no child of his would experience what he had—not while he had breath in his lungs.

‘You are suggesting that you will raise the child by yourself?’ He heard the derision in his voice and knew it was the wrong approach, but his emotions were moving beyond his control.

‘Why not?’ she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. His eyes dropped to her breasts before he could control the reaction. When he looked at her face once more he saw pink in her cheeks and something stirred in his groin.

He forced himself to hold her gaze. ‘What will you do for money, Libby?’ he pushed, waiting to see how she answered that. Did she see him as a meal ticket? If so, this was her chance.

Obviously, he intended to financially support his child, but it was strangely important to him to understand more about Libby. She was such an unknown quantity. She’d crashed into—and out of—his life in the most volatile, stunning way, so sometimes he’d wondered if he’d dreamed the whole encounter. They’d come together like magic and motion and then she’d left, and that had been that. The end. He knew nothing about her, and he wanted to. Not because of who she was as a woman, he told himself, but because she was to become the mother to his child.

‘I’ve got some ideas,’ she said, drawing his focus back to the conversation. ‘I’m still working out the details, but don’t worry,’ she said with a hint of disdain. ‘I’m not planning on taking a cent from you, Raul; this isn’t a shakedown.’

He stared at her, embarrassed to have been seen through, and even more so because it made him seem ungenerous and irresponsible—he was neither. He’d hated the idea of Libby using him to secure some kind of payday, but it had never occurred to him not to contribute financially. The problem was, he wanted more than just to hand over cash every month.

‘You need money,’ he said, ‘and obviously I will provide it.’

She closed her eyes, grimacing. ‘I don’t want that.’

‘Why not?’ he asked, fascinated by her response.

She lifted her slender shoulders in a shrug. ‘I just... I know I can do this,’ she said.

‘You also know I am a very wealthy man,’ he pushed, still trying to get her measure.

‘Yes.’

‘Do you imagine I would leave you here, struggling in squalor, raising a child I helped make?’

‘I—’ She looked around, her cheeks bright red now, and tears filmed her eyes. His gut twisted sharply with regret. Squalor might have been pushing it. Libby’s apartment was down at heel but it was obvious she’d taken a lot of effort to make it bright and happy.

But this wasn’t the time to backpedal. He had to make her see sense.

‘I have never wanted children,’ he said quietly.

She glanced at him, lips tight. ‘You don’t need to have anything to do with our baby—’

‘That is no longer an option.’

Her eyes widened.

‘I didn’t plan this. I’m fastidious about protection for precisely this reason; I don’t take any chances. Yet here we are.’ He frowned, an idea occurring to him out of nowhere. An idea he hated with every part of himself and yet it formed with such clarity in his mind, he knew it was the only solution. His gut sank like a lead balloon. ‘Are you absolutely certain about this?’

She spun away from him, reaching into a drawer and removing an envelope. She hesitated a moment, then slid it across to him. He took it, peeled the triangle back and removed a small, square picture. Grainy, but recognisable enough.

An ultrasound photo. His child. He stared at it, waiting to feel that magical emotion people talked about in moments such as this, waiting to feel a rush of love for the blurry, blob-like thing, but all he was conscious of was a need to move all the pieces into alignment so he could protect this child, as no one had protected him. That wasn’t love, it was responsibility.

‘I had a scan to confirm it,’ she explained. ‘I’m definitely pregnant. Sorry.’

He handed the picture back without looking at it again. ‘It’s not your fault.’

She winced. ‘Still, it’s not ideal.’

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘It’s far from it. But we can’t change it now. So, let’s make a plan.’

Let’s make a plan.

Did he have any idea how comforting that statement was? Libby had spent the last two weeks feeling like she was going to be totally alone in this, and here was Raul, offering to take her hand in his, at least in terms of working out what to do next, and she could have wept with relief.

The feeling did not last long.

‘I did not know my father either, Libby. Nor my mother. I have only a few very vague memories.’ He frowned. ‘You and I have one vital thing in common,’ he said with steel in his voice. She waited, breath held, even as questions spawned in her mind about his upbringing. ‘We both know the particular insecurity that comes from a less than ideal childhood.’

She closed her eyes on a wave of recognition. Hadn’t it been the first pledge she’d made to this baby, when she’d learned of their existence? That she would shield them from the pain and uncertainty she’d lived with?

‘I will not allow history to repeat itself. Not for either of us.’ His nostrils flared on the statement and she heard the determination in his tone.

‘I feel the same way,’ she murmured. ‘It’s why I wanted to tell you.’

‘You wanted to give me the option of involvement,’ he said, brushing past her acknowledgement, ‘because your father and you didn’t have that. But it’s not enough, Libby. Not by a long shot.’

She pressed her back against the kitchen bench, needing strength. Her tea was tepid now; she took a sip anyway. ‘What are you suggesting?’

Silence fell. The ticking of the clock took on an almost ominous tone.

‘There is only one solution.’ His voice was flat, devoid of all feeling and warmth. She stared at him, waiting for the penny to drop, because Libby could see no option beyond the one she’d suggested. Unless he intended to fight her for custody? She blanched at the very idea.

‘Raul,’ she mumbled. ‘You can’t mean to try to take the baby from me?’ She trembled from head to foot. ‘I know I don’t have your resources, but I will do everything I can to be the best mother possible to our child. You can’t—’

‘That is not my intent.’ He spoke quickly, immediately dismissing the idea.

She didn’t feel the wave of relief she’d anticipated. She was on tenterhooks, waiting for him to say whatever was cogitating behind those intelligent eyes of his.

‘I want to raise my child.’

Libby’s heart stammered.

‘I want to be in their life every day, not just occasionally, and I presume you feel the same way.’

She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.

‘Then the solution is obvious, and simple.’ His tone was bland but she saw the look in his eyes. It was a look of sheer disbelief. ‘We’ll get married.’

Libby almost passed out. Her heart skipped a thousand beats and her eyes flashed with white.

‘No.’ She lifted a hand to her lips, pressing it there.

Something precious she’d nurtured inside of herself since she was a girl was being strangled by his cold, pragmatic suggestion. The little girl who’d hidden in her room and read romantic fairy tales to escape the reality of her life, who’d promised herself that one day she’d make all her own fairy tales come true, had never given up on the idea of real, all-consuming love. Of finding the kind of man who was like a modern-day Prince Charming, who’d love her with all that he was, for all time. She’d hated the way her mother had gone through partners. It had made Libby all the more determined to believe in true love. In the idea of finding that one perfect person who was destined for her, and she’d been holding out for them all this time.

A cold marriage for the sake of a child, in the twenty-first century, was a death knell to all those hopes and dreams.

‘I can’t,’ she whispered.

‘Marriage is the last thing I want as well,’ he responded, and hurt lashed her. She turned away from him then, looking out of the window and finding no pleasure remained in the view.

‘We don’t even know each other.’

‘That’s less important than being married before the baby arrives.’ He spoke as though it were a foregone conclusion. ‘You will be supported in every way,’ he said, ignoring the fact she hadn’t accepted his proposal. ‘You will live in my home, have true financial stability and comfort. You will not have to work unless you want to—you can be a full-time mother, if that is your wish. This is not a jail sentence, but a gift of freedom. Our marriage can give you wings, can’t you see that?’

‘Marriage to a virtual stranger? Freedom?’ she repeated, incredulous, turning to face him then wishing she hadn’t when the sight of him made her central nervous system go into overdrive. Even now, feeling as she did, totally on edge and laced with panic, she was all too aware of him as a man, and that terrified her. ‘How can you say that?’

‘What will your life be like if you do not accept?’

‘I’ll manage,’ she promised defiantly.

‘And what about our child’s life?’ he pushed, moving closer, looking down at her with cool eyes, appraising her every gesture so she felt totally seen and vulnerable. ‘Do you really think you can offer them enough?’

Her lips parted; it was a low blow. ‘Of course .’ But was she so sure of that? Hadn’t it been the biggest problem she’d been trying to solve, since finding out she was pregnant? Her voice trembled. ‘I will love this child enough to give them anything.’

‘Evidently not,’ he said quietly.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I am offering them everything—and you are choosing not to take it.’

Libby’s eyes widened.

‘This is not about you,’ he continued, and shame curdled in her belly. ‘I am not offering to marry you as a man offers for a woman. This is a sacrifice we would both be making, for the sake of our child. Is there any better reason to sacrifice, Libby?’

Did he have any idea how badly he was twisting the knife in her heart? Not because she felt anything for Raul, but because her longest-held dream was of being loved, really loved. On her loneliest nights, she’d consoled herself with visions of her future. Nothing special or glamorous—a very ordinary, happy life, in a nice simple cottage with a garden and an apple tree, a white timber fence with nasturtiums scrambling along it, sunlight dappling the thick, lush lawn, perfect for picnics, and most of all—love and laughter. Chubby little children whose hands would seek hers, and a husband who’d wrap his arms around her waist and draw her to him, their hearts in lockstep, always.

She expelled a soft sigh. It was a fantasy. A childish dream.

Maybe Raul was right... Maybe she needed to grow up and accept the reality of this. Fairy tales were for children; there were more important considerations here. In marrying Raul, Libby would be giving up on the idea of romantic love, of meeting her soulmate and losing her head to them. But there were other kinds of love that were just as important, and the love she already felt for her child, and knew they’d feel for her, was enough to start stitching her heart back together again. She could still know the contentment of a little hand in hers, of a toddler in her lap for reading time, of goodnight cuddles and kisses...all of the things she’d never had enough of.

Raul was right: marriage to him was a sacrifice, but she would make it, for the baby. But it would need to be the right kind of marriage, a partnership at least. If love wouldn’t be part of the picture, she had to know there would at least be teamwork. They were going to be parents together, after all.

‘Obviously, financially, you can offer us the world,’ she said, running her hand over her stomach, pausing when his eyes followed the gesture and flared. Her heart trembled and when she spoke, her voice was unsteady. ‘But I would need more, if I were to go along with this.’

His dark brows lifted, surprise showed in the depths of his grey eyes before he concealed it. ‘What are your conditions?’

It was like he’d been expecting it, she thought, then realised he probably had. Raul Ortega was used to negotiations, and this was no different. He wasn’t taking over a company now though, but her life, and she had to be just as pragmatic and sensible as he would be if their positions were reversed.

‘I would want everything in writing before we got married,’ she said, lips pulling to the side.

‘A prenuptial agreement?’ he prompted.

‘Yes, exactly,’ she agreed quickly. ‘If something happened, and it might—we don’t know each other well enough to just trust blindly—and our marriage ended, and even ended badly, I would need to know that I would continue to be...looked after. That our baby would be looked after.’

His nostrils flared and the look on his face showed how offended he was by her suggestion. Tone stiff, he said curtly, ‘Naturally.’

‘I beg your pardon, but it’s not “natural”,’ she insisted. ‘Plenty of women get the raw end of the deal, particularly in marriages like this—where one person enters into it with so much more.’

He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I will ensure you are taken care of, no matter what.’

She bit into her lower lip. ‘It’s not for my sake but the baby’s,’ she said, troubled by these negotiations even when she acknowledged their necessity. ‘There should be a trust fund or something, set up for them. You don’t know how you’ll feel in five years, or ten, nor whom you might end up married to next and what they might ask you to do. I want this child’s future to be inviolable if I do this.’

‘A moment ago you were prepared to give up any claim whatsoever to my wealth,’ he pointed out.

‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘But if I marry you, our baby will get used to living a certain way. I don’t want him or her to have to face the prospect of losing that. Stability is important.’

‘Fine.’

She couldn’t tell if he believed her point was valid, but she took his agreement regardless.

‘Describe what our marriage will be like,’ she said after a beat, heat blooming in her cheeks.

‘In what context?’

He was really going to make this awkward for her, wasn’t he?

‘Obviously, it won’t be a real marriage, in the sense of...sex.’ She stumbled over the last word in her statement. ‘Contrary to whatever opinion you might have formed of me after that day, I’m not generally into meaningless encounters.’

A muscle throbbed in his jaw but otherwise he didn’t react.

‘You, on the other hand,’ she continued a little breathily, ‘presumably are.’

He lifted one thick dark brow and even though his expression didn’t change she had the strangest feeling he was laughing at her.

‘Go on.’

‘I wouldn’t expect that to change—’ she sniffed ‘—but I would require your absolute discretion.’

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

‘There are more kinds of insecurity than financial to worry about. I wouldn’t want our child to suspect our marriage was anything other than...happy.’

‘Fine.’

‘To which end, we would both need to agree to treat one another with respect,’ she said, thinking quickly. ‘And to get to know one another well enough to be...’ She searched for the right word.

‘Friends?’ he prompted, but his voice was loaded with cynicism.

‘What’s wrong with that?’

Raul looked at her for a long time, so long that Libby’s chest felt as though it were going to explode from the pressure being exerted on her.

‘We will get to know each other,’ he said finally. ‘Within reason.’

She frowned. ‘What does that mean?’

‘This is not an audition for a real marriage,’ he said coldly. ‘While we should be respectful and even friendly , it is important not to ever lose sight of why we are doing this. I will not fall in love with you, Libby, so please be realistic in your expectations. This is only for our child, okay?’

Her lips parted on a groundswell of shock. ‘Wow, ego much?’

His eyes shuttered, concealing his feelings from her. ‘I am simply being honest—which is, in my opinion, an important prerequisite for this.’

‘Fine,’ she agreed, knowing she should have been grateful for his truthfulness, even when it cut her to the quick. It was just such a bald, frank assessment, another dropping of the guillotine on those childish hopes. But she wasn’t stupid enough to put those dreams into Raul’s hands, anyway! So what difference did it make if he was pronouncing they would always be loveless?

‘I presume the same conditions imposed upon me would apply to you as well? If you were to take a lover, it would be with the utmost caution to avoid discovery.’

‘Of course,’ Libby said, rolling her eyes. ‘But you really don’t need to worry about that. I’m not exactly a highly sexed person,’ she said, ‘which makes the irony of this just all the more ridiculous.’

He was quiet. It was the only explanation for why Libby kept speaking, as if nervously filling the void.

‘To think, the first time I have sex with anyone in three years I fall pregnant.’ She groaned. ‘I swear the fates are laughing at us, Raul.’