by Maya Blake
Swimming was blissful, as usual, but already she worried about what such active exercise would do to her baby, and gave up halfway through her normal lengthy swim. Collecting her things, she strolled back towards the side of the hotel. The first thing she needed to do, once she’d had a talk with Gael, was to dig up as much information as she could on how to keep healthy during pregnancy.
Once again she was assailed with a frightening but growing thrill over her impending future.
No matter what. She’d fight to her last breath.
Discarding her things on a lounger next to the private pool that served the presidential suite, she turned on the outside shower to wash off the salt water. She was washing sand from between her toes when she heard the hurried slap of bare feet.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ Gael demanded forcefully. ‘I was about to send out a damned search party.’
She turned, her gaze momentarily obscured by the water running down her face. Sluicing it away, she tilted her head back from the spray. He was livid, the chest beneath his white polo shirt rising and falling as if he’d run a marathon.
‘I went for a walk on the beach, followed by a swim,’ she said, fighting to keep her voice on an even keel. She needed to keep calm. For her baby’s sake.
‘Without bothering to tell me?’
‘I went for a swim yesterday too. In fact I’ve walked and swum every day since I got here. I do it before breakfast and before we go on location. Should I have reported to you then too?’
Fury blazed across his face as he stepped closer. ‘Don’t be flippant, Goldie. You know what I mean.’
‘Do I? A few things have changed, granted, but are you seriously expecting me to turn my life upside down because—?’
His hand slashing through the air chopped off her words.
‘Everything has changed, Goldie. Accept that now, before we exchange further words.’
About to contradict him, she stopped. Because he was right. So right.
For one thing, once their child was born this man who stood brimming with fury and power before her would be connected with her for ever. And if he chose to take an interest—and judging by the look on his face he already was—he would have a say in her child’s welfare.
The thought sent a shiver through her. Weirdly, it wasn’t a shiver of terror. More a dread of the unknown. Because suddenly another factor loomed large in her brain. This child wasn’t hers and hers alone. It also belonged to Gael Aguilar.
The thought was unsettling enough to make her words tumble out. ‘Gael... I... It was just a walk. A swim.’
‘And what if something had happened to you?’ he rasped.
‘The beach is safe. Nothing would have happened.’
He gritted his teeth for a few tense seconds, before his gaze flicked to the torrent of water cascading down her body. ‘Are you done?’
She nodded and turned off the shower. ‘Yes.’
Glancing round, he spotted a pile of towels and grabbed the largest one. Goldie reached up to smooth back her wet hair, then froze when she caught his eyes on her.
Slowly, Gael advanced, his hot scrutiny rushing down her body and returning on a slower trajectory. ‘How could you not have known you were pregnant?’ he scythed in a heated voice barely above a guttural whisper.
Her breath knotted in her lungs. ‘Excuse me?’
Light hazel eyes reached her breasts, lingered for a long moment. ‘Your body is already changing. How do you expect me to believe you didn’t know?’
‘There was so much going on. I... I wasn’t paying attention. Gael, I didn’t know—I swear.’
His mouth tightened, but he handed over the towel without acknowledging her words. ‘Come inside when you’re done here. We need to have that talk.’
She watched him walk away, his strong, shorts-clad legs taking him from her view in seconds. She took her time to dab the excess moisture from her body, even though it didn’t buy her any more time to formulate her thoughts.
Simple reason was, she had no idea what was coming with regard to Gael.
When she walked into the living room he was pacing, the phone pressed to his ear. He stopped, his gaze fixated on her as he spoke. ‘Work it out, Ethan, and let me know.’
The hairs on her nape prickled as she watched him hang up and toss the phone onto the dining table. ‘What was that about?’
He gave a tight, mirthless smile. ‘Setting out contingencies.’
‘What does that mean?’
He prowled to where she stood. Scrutinised her face and body one more time. ‘First things first, guapa. How do you feel?’
The question was solicitous, caring. The emotions bristling from his body and eyes told a different story.
She sidestepped. ‘Why are you asking?’
‘You were up during the night. I have a doctor on standby—’
‘I don’t need a doctor. I feel fine.’
A tic manifested at his temple. ‘You found out you’re pregnant last night. Don’t you want to know immediately how best to take care of yourself?’
She frowned, knowing she’d walked into that. ‘I... Of course.’
He nodded, and strolled back to the table. Grabbing a white paper bag, he handed it to her. ‘Before the doctor comes let’s make absolutely sure of your state, shall we?’
Still frowning, she took the bag, looked inside. ‘A pregnancy test...’ She wasn’t sure why the band tightened around her chest. She’d planned on getting one anyway. But Gael doing so seemed...hurtful.
‘We need to be equipped with as much information as possible going forward, do we not?’
The explanation dissolved a little of her hurt, but not all of it she noted as she nodded and headed for the bathroom.
Gael was standing at the wide rectangular windows staring out at the view when she emerged from the bathroom. He turned immediately when she walked into the room, his narrowed eyes piercing hers before dropping to the two sticks clutched in her fist. Quick strides forward brought him unapologetically into her personal space.
‘Well?’ he breathed, his eyes gleaming with a feverish look.
Goldie swallowed. ‘Yes.’ She handed him both sticks.
He stared down at the tests, his gaze riveted on the writing displayed on the tiny screen.
Pregnant. 3+ Weeks
After an age, he tossed both tests onto the console table behind her. Closing the gap between them, he speared his fingers into her hair, angled her head up so she couldn’t look away from him.
‘You’re carrying my child.’
The primal claim in those four words was unmistakable.
Her breath shook as she nodded.
The palms cupping her cheeks firmed, as if he was focusing her attention ready for his next words. He pulled her close until their faces were inches from each other’s.
‘Do you accept that this fundamentally changes your life, Goldie?’
The depth of his belief in the words almost shook her enough to frighten her. But she’d worked too hard for the life she’d chiselled out for herself to cower beneath anyone’s will.
‘No, I don’t. I’m sorry, Gael, but it doesn’t.’
CHAPTER NINE
IT DOESN’T.
For a few seconds Gael was sure he’d misheard. Then he remembered exactly who he was dealing with. A woman with an iron will almost as strong as his own.
The woman carrying his child.
Surprisingly, his senses had stopped reeling somewhere in the middle of the night—between Goldie’s first and second vomiting sessions. The test he’d procured first thing, when he’d thought she was still sleeping had merely been the instrument to slide that last one per cent of doubt from red to green.
The one and only time
a woman had tried to trick him into fatherhood before, her quest had been tentative and ultimately bungled. Heidi had hinted at pregnancy towards the end of their time together—most likely to test the waters and her chances in the marital stakes. Gael’s firm shut-down had resulted in a firm retraction of her fictional state.
Not so with Goldie. Her conviction had been firm, which in turn had cemented his.
She was carrying his child.
He was going to be a father.
But she didn’t think it was a life-changing situation for her. What did that mean?
‘Perdón?’ Realising he’d lapsed into his mother tongue, he shook his head. ‘What do you mean, it doesn’t?’
She licked her lower lip, triggering a wave of heat through his groin. Nothing that had happened in the last twelve hours had changed the red-hot chemistry between them. If anything, the changes in her body had lent her skin a deeper glow, made her even more voluptuous and unbelievably stunning and heightened the awareness between them. A fact his body was reacting to in the most primal way.
‘I mean some things will change, of course. I’m not debating that. But I’m not changing who I am because of my baby.’
His fingers wanted to tighten, to draw a more satisfactory answer straight from her mind. He cautioned himself to relax, breathe deep. ‘Some things? Tell me what you think those things are. Then tell me what you think won’t change.’
Her mouth firmed for a second. ‘I haven’t laid it all out in a spreadsheet, if that’s what you mean—’
‘But clearly you’ve given it some thought, Goldie. So let’s have it. Bullet-point the big things for me.’
She exhaled. ‘Well, the first thing is to make sure the baby is healthy.’
‘Sí—agreed,’ he said.
‘Then, once he or she is born, we’ll have to discuss your visitation rights and how to work around our career schedules.’
His gut tightened, disbelief flashing through his system. ‘Visitation rights? Schedules?’
She nodded.
He dropped his hands and fought the terrible rush of dark fury and the memories of being discarded when it suited his mother that surged high. ‘And where will you be living while these rights are being discussed?’
She frowned, as if his question was absurd. ‘In New Jersey, with my mother—hopefully in a place that better suits us.’
‘Of course. So I’m to remain in California, where I’m based, only seeing my child when a court order stipulates, hmm? Presumably you intend to pursue your career?’
‘I...yes.’
‘So our child will be left in the care of minders, or your mother and her sober companion, perhaps, while you’re off on location around the world? Or do you intend to drag him or her with you?’
Her violet eyes grew wide, probably at his seemingly calm tone. ‘Gael, I told you I don’t have all the answers yet—’
‘That is exactly right. You do not. But I do. Before I tell you, though, I have a little tale to tell you. Are you ready to hear it?’
She blinked, then raised an eyebrow. ‘Do I have a choice? Aren’t you going to tell me anyway, whether I want to hear it or not?’
Gael took another step back—because right in that moment he wasn’t sure whether he yearned to kiss her sensual lips in an attempt to force down the memories surging, or condemn her for making those volatile emotions rise to the fore in the first place.
She shifted in reaction to the invisible fireworks sparking round the room, drawing his attention to her body, barely covered by the wispy sarong.
He whirled, slashing his fingers through his hair, and tried to seek a little clarity from the wide expanse of the ocean beyond the window. When it remained elusive, he took a deep breath and turned around again. Facing this thing head-on was the only viable option.
‘I’ve told you a little bit about my past...my parentage, sí?’
‘Yes...’ she responded warily, her gaze tracking him as he began to pace.
‘What you don’t know is that every few years when I was growing up my father would leave his wife for a few weeks and convince my mother to go away with him. Every time it was supposed to be the time—the moment when he left Alejandro’s mother and made a life with my mother, the woman he supposedly truly loved. At those times I was parcelled off to the local orphanage or left with casual acquaintances who were paid to mind me.’
She inhaled sharply. ‘Gael—’
He held up his hand. ‘I’m not telling you this to gain sympathy. This is a fact of my childhood. It’s behind me now, but it’s not forgotten. I have accepted that I didn’t even have a broken home to call my own—that my day-to-day existence was at the whim of a father who confirmed explicitly that I was an unwanted mistake when I dared to confront him.’
She gasped, her hand flying to mouth as if to cover the sound, the pain.
‘I have had no interest in becoming a father simply because it’s not a role I ever foresaw for myself.’
‘But—’
‘But now I am faced with the prospect of bringing my child into the world, things are not as clear-cut. However, there is one thing I intend to ensure will never happen where this child is concerned.’
She stared, unblinking, the pulse in her throat hammering wildly. ‘Wh-what is that?’
‘Comparing the circumstances I’ve just described to you with what you proposed a short while ago, do you think a man in my position, and with my power, having gone through what I went through as child, will be willing to stand idly by while my child is shuffled between minders, planes, movie locations and court-ordered visitation rights?’ he gritted out.
Her mouth trembled for a second before she caught hold of herself. ‘Gael, please be reasonable—’
He broke off mid-pace and planted himself firmly in front of her. He needed her to see the intent emblazoned in his heart and mind.
‘Let me answer for you, Goldie. The scenario you propose will happen over my dead body.’
The words sank in.
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. ‘So we’re not even going to discuss it?’
‘We just have.’
‘No, we didn’t. You’re just trying to lay down the law.’
‘I have told you what I intend not to happen with my child. We can now go on to discuss what will.’
‘Our child.’
‘What?’
‘Our child. Equal parenting. Equal responsibility.’
‘Yes—agreed. And that most definitely does not involve split homes on either side of the continent.’
‘You can’t just rule things out, Gael. We need to agree a compromise.’
‘Why compromise when I have the solution?’ he asked.
Her smooth forehead clenched in a frown. ‘We confirmed the pregnancy less than ten minutes ago. How can you have a solution already?’
‘Very easily when what’s at stake is this important.’
She gave a slight shake of her head, but her gaze didn’t leave his. She blinked, her expression turning wary with trepidation. ‘I think we need to talk about this some more.’
‘I’m finished with talking, Goldie. The soundest solution to the situation we find ourselves in is for you to marry me.’
* * *
Even though her senses had screamed at her that whatever Gael was about to propose would most likely push all her alarm buttons, the words still hit Goldie square in the chest with shocking and relentless force.
She swayed on her feet.
Gael cursed, caught her by the elbow and tugged her to the sofa. ‘Sit down, Goldie.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘I didn’t say you weren’t. I would still like you to sit. You were up half the night, throwing up, and you’ve been standing for far too long.
’
She rolled her eyes, earning herself a dark frown. ‘Women have been giving birth for thousands of years without turning into wilting flowers for the duration of their pregnancy, Gael.’
‘Sí, but none of them have had the privilege of carrying my child,’ he bit out.
Her mouth quirked in a parody of a smile, which vanished a second later. ‘Do you have any idea how pompous that sounds?’
‘You ask the question as if I care. You’re still standing, Goldie.’
She plunked herself on a seat. Then rubbed her temple as his words attacked her once more. ‘You just... You just asked me...’
‘To marry me, yes,’ he confirmed, his voice brimming with unequivocal power and certainty.
‘But...why?’
‘Because my child won’t be living in New Jersey. It will be living with me.’
Cold dredged through her. ‘And the only way I will have access to our baby is to marry you? Is that what you’re threatening me with?’
He didn’t answer immediately. Silence ticked by as he paced in front of her. Then he stopped and propped his hands on his lean hips.
‘Tell me a little bit about your background, Goldie.’
Her gaze flicked up to meet his. ‘Why?’
‘Because I want to understand why you’re fighting this, when all signs indicate that you would think this a perfect solution if other factors weren’t an issue. So make me understand why our child can’t be with us, full-time, wherever that may be.’
‘I don’t have to make you understand. Just because you suddenly think marriage is a perfect solution, when only last night you were dead against it for your own brother, it doesn’t mean I agree.’
‘I don’t think it’s a perfect solution. I think it’s the most viable one.’
She batted the answer away. ‘I would really like not to talk about our child as if it’s a commodity you’re brokering.’
His head went back as if she’d struck him. ‘Trust me, pequeña, a commodity is the last label I’d hang on our child.’
The words were soft but deadly. Too late, she remembered what his parents had done to him as a child. Gael might deny it, but that period in his life had left scars. Deep scars that still dictated his motives.
