Secrets Made in Paradise
Page 4
‘Where will Luke and I be staying?’
To her relief he passed Luke back to her. ‘Follow me.’
It was going to take her days to find her way around this floating palace. She was hopelessly confused as she followed him up another flight of gleaming steps and along an extraordinarily wide corridor.
‘This is your suite,’ he said briskly. ‘A cabin for Luke has been prepared right next door.’
Emmy barely glanced into her space, but Luke’s stunned her. It was huge, with gorgeous curtains dressing the wide windows offering stunning views across the water. There was a cot set up already dressed in beautiful white linen. A mobile hung above it while other baby supplies were stacked neatly in the corner.
Once again the detailed preparation stretched her nerves. What did he want, really?
‘You got this ready quickly.’ She stepped back out to the corridor, almost bumping into Javier and flushing hotly at the near miss. ‘Where’s your room?’
‘I’m on the deck above.’
Javier sleeping on another level was reassuring, wasn’t it? Yet she had a sharp twinge of disappointment. She shook herself and forced her focus onto her little boy. She couldn’t believe the size of the cabins or that there could be this much space on a private yacht. She’d be sure to keep both her and Luke’s doors open through the night, because she’d never slept in a different room from her son. She tightened her hold on him without thinking and, at the change, Luke wriggled and began to fret.
‘He’s tired and hungry.’ She glanced at Javier defensively.
‘I suspect he might not be the only one.’ The faintest smile flashed on Javier’s face. ‘So let’s get you both fed.’
Emmy’s irritation bloomed. She was not some overtired, hungry toddler. ‘No, I’d like to unpack his things first.’
Javier drew an audible breath. ‘Fine.’
But to her chagrin, Javier didn’t leave, rather he went right into Luke’s cabin and sat down in the wide armchair.
‘Will you hold him while I do it?’ she asked.
Again there was that wariness in Javier’s eyes, but he answered coolly enough. ‘Of course.’
She handed Luke back to Javier, quickly finding Luke’s favourite toy so he could clutch it while she swiftly emptied the bag she’d packed.
Javier sat carefully holding Luke while intently watching her unload every item. ‘All these things are Luke’s. Where are your things?’
‘Still in the bag. I’ll unload the rest in my room later.’
‘That bag is nearly empty.’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t need much.’
‘You spend everything you have on him,’ Javier said flatly.
‘Of course.’ She flushed and concentrated on refolding Luke’s few clothes.
‘He’s bottle-fed?’ he asked after a moment.
She swallowed hard, feeling her defensiveness flare again. Was he going to criticise all her choices? ‘He’s starting solid foods now. I breastfed for as long as I could—’
‘I’m not judging,’ Javier said calmly. ‘I’m just understanding the process. If he takes a bottle, then it doesn’t need to be you who feeds him. I could do that.’ He looked at her. ‘You don’t think I’d want to feed my own child? Know how to soothe him when he’s unwell or unhappy?’
She stared at him. Did he really mean that? Did he want to be that involved? Stupidly the thought terrified her more.
‘Does he wake through the night?’ Javier asked.
‘Sometimes.’ She didn’t want to admit how demanding Luke could be, but the fact was he was a strong little boy with a healthy appetite and his curious mind was developing rapidly too, which meant he craved more stimulation.
‘A nanny could manage him for that.’
‘A nanny?’ Emmy stiffened. ‘I don’t need a nanny.’
‘You need some help. We both do.’
‘I haven’t up until this point.’ Her hackles lifted instantly as she feared this was the first step towards eliminating her.
‘Are you sure you want to argue this now, Emmy?’ he asked softly.
But a torrent of bitterness was rising within her. If he wanted to employ a nanny, then he didn’t really want to care for his son himself. So did he regard his son simply as an acquisition? Fears coalesced, sending her into a heightened state of confusion and defensiveness, and she lashed out. ‘This isn’t actually about Luke, is it? This is about you not being in control before. You not knowing he existed. You can’t stand that.’
Javier’s expression shuttered. ‘This is utterly and only about Luke and what’s best for him.’
‘And you think a nanny is best? Not his own parents?’
Something flickered in his eyes before he blinked it away. ‘I think his parents are important. Both of them.’ He gazed down at Luke’s head.
He said that with such fierce conviction Emmy wondered at it, but before she could ask why he felt that so strongly, he lifted his head and fixed her in place with that ruthlessly assessing stare of his.
‘But we need to be in the best frame of mind to be the best we can for him,’ he added. ‘Right now you need food and rest as much as he does. Come on.’ He hefted their small son in his arms and stood. ‘We’ll eat in the dining room.’
He exited the cabin so swiftly Emmy was left staring agape. Seriously? Was he just going to walk away from her concerns? From this conversation?
Her irritation brewing, she ran after him. The stunning superyacht stole her breath but at the same time stoked her anger. It was ludicrously indulgent. The gleaming marble, backlit gemstones, the polished silverware, the plush sofas and soft cushions and above all sheer size and space. Everything was so ornate and over the top it screamed obscene wealth. Even the discretion of the uniformed crew irritated her. They disappeared before she barely caught a glimpse of them—obviously well trained, well paid, well controlled. Had he led her to this formal dining room to intimidate her—to make her painfully aware of everything he had to offer and everything she didn’t? There was even a highchair for Luke already. Discomfort and fury mounting, she settled him into it and fastened the small belt.
‘I wasn’t sure of your tastes, or what time we’d get here, so I requested a small buffet,’ Javier said smoothly, preventing her from saying anything more again with sudden ‘top host’ manners. ‘Help yourself.’
She couldn’t bring herself to put anything on her plate despite the sudden watering of her mouth at the sumptuous array of freshly prepared, beautiful food. It had been a long time since she’d had anything more than a quick thrown-together comfort eat, but she selected some mashed plantain to put on Luke’s tray.
‘Stop the stiff-necked pride,’ he said, taking the seat next to the one she’d perched on and dispensing with the manners all over again. ‘Or I’ll feed you myself.’
‘I’m not very hungry,’ she lied and instantly hated herself for it. Since when was she so shrewish? But as she glanced around the room again, more of the same leaked out. ‘You don’t scare me with your display of wealth.’
‘Emmy.’ He calmly served himself a portion of fresh-cooked fish and fragrant rice. ‘We’re in this room purely for the privacy. I don’t want the world staring at us if we’re up on deck.’
Her pulse settled fractionally, but she was still tense. Luke, on the other hand, was delightedly experimenting with the snippets of food she’d put in front of him.
Javier was watching Luke with such naked fascination that Emmy felt badly about her exhausted, emotion-clouded judgement of only seconds ago. She wanted to smooth this awkwardness somehow, but before she could speak her stomach rumbled embarrassingly loudly. Javier’s eyebrows lifted and his mouth quirked. She shelved her pride and served herself. She almost moaned at her first bite of the seafood. She hadn’t had anything as delicious in a long while.
&nbs
p; She saw Javier’s smile broaden and decided to let him have the win. She did feel better.
‘We need to talk—’ she finally began, breaking off when she saw him grimace.
‘We need time,’ he replied after a moment. ‘Eighteen months is a good start. We’ll work out a permanent arrangement eventually, but by then Luke will likely be ready to spend time mixing with other children in a good preschool.’
‘You want to send him to school already?’ She gaped at him.
Javier paused. ‘Part-time play with other children might be good. I don’t want him to be lonely.’
Meaning Javier wasn’t about to have any other children? Given that Emmy wasn’t either, it shouldn’t have mattered, but his pronouncement bothered her all the same. And this wasn’t her idea of a conversation, this was him just deciding. She chewed, swallowed and stabbed another forkful of suddenly tasteless food. Her control wasn’t just slipping, it was being torn from her. No decisions about Luke would be only hers again. That realisation both discomforted her and made her feel guilty all over again because it gave her the smallest insight into how Javier must feel about missing out on everything so far.
‘Okay.’ She nodded.
But the problem was she didn’t want to live with Javier. She could hardly bear to be this close to him. It was unsettling in ways she didn’t want to define, and she definitely didn’t want to take anything from him. At the same time she couldn’t deny him what he needed—that she did owe—time with Luke. And she was too selfish to give up any time with her son herself. So she had to stay.
‘You’ll need more than what you’ve brought on board,’ he murmured.
‘No, I won’t.’ She tried to stay calm.
‘You’re living under my roof, at my insistence. I’ll take care of your expenses while you’re here.’
She shook her head.
‘You’ll definitely need warmer clothes for winter in New York.’
She was hardly going to be out and about in the city. She’d be with Luke. ‘I’ll figure something out.’ She had almost zero savings, but she was going to have to make them stretch. And she definitely needed to think about how she could support herself in the future. She was used to living a roving existence—volunteering on various projects for lodging and food as she explored the world. Even with Luke with her, she’d thought she might be able to make it work when he was a little older. But no more. She’d be bound to wherever Javier wanted Luke—and by extension her—to be. ‘I don’t need anything from you.’
Javier was watching her closely. ‘It doesn’t bother me.’
Was that a flicker of amusement in his eyes?
‘It bothers me.’ She still heard the echo of the insults and insinuations through her pregnancy when a couple of people had whispered about her relationship with the elderly Lucero.
Not to mention Javier’s own implied insults when he’d ‘explained’ why he’d not given her his real name and his arrogant assumption that women wanted a wedding band when they knew who he really was.
While other people might’ve been able to laugh those things off, she couldn’t, because she’d come from a family with no moral boundaries, who wanted nothing more than a free ride at someone else’s expense. She never wanted to be anything like them and she’d spent most of her life trying to prove she wasn’t.
‘I get that you want to provide for our son, that’s wonderful,’ she said in a low voice. ‘But I will not touch a cent of your money. I don’t want it and I don’t need it.’
Javier leaned back in the seat and actually grinned at her. ‘Fine. I’ll pay you as his carer, then.’
‘That’s not acceptable to me.’ She couldn’t even look at him now he was smiling. ‘I don’t want your money.’
‘Well it’ll be there,’ he replied carelessly. ‘It’s up to you whether you use it or not.’
That glimpse of good humour recharged the cells of attraction she’d been trying to suppress. He was far too gorgeous and far too close for comfort and this sudden return to affable and easy-going was alarming. Maybe it was wrong of her, but she still couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anyone. But most of all, she suddenly realised, she couldn’t trust herself. Because when he smiled at her like that? She was so tempted to lean in and smile back.
Suddenly she actually appreciated the size of the superyacht. It was big enough for them to avoid each other. She could have her time with Luke and he could have his.
And that, she realised, was the only way she was going to survive this.
* * *
Almost two hours later Javier watched Emmy needlessly adjust the light blanket covering their small son. Luke was fast asleep now, having listened to a story cradled in her arms before she put him into the cot.
‘Come on,’ he commanded her softly. ‘We need to talk.’
It was the last thing he wanted to do. The tension he’d been containing for hours bubbled, seeping out of the lid he’d had shoved on it all day. He knew she’d been scraping an existence as a volunteer for a long time, living above that store, effectively working for free. And now, despite that dinner, she still looked pale and exhausted and terrified. It annoyed him immensely. What was it about him that scared her so? He wanted that fiery woman he’d met on the beach back. Memory surged—she’d looked so liberated and confident and they’d had fun together. More than fun. He remembered the look in her eyes, the sighs she’d released. He knew she’d had pleasure with him. And yes, his body tensed, any desire for conversation evaporated completely.
‘Sit down before you fall down, Emmy,’ he growled, mad with himself for remembering the heat of her response. ‘And relax.’
‘Relax?’ She threw him a stunned look as she sank onto the cushions. ‘How can I when everything is happening so fast?’ She buried her face in her hands. He saw her short-bitten nails, the blister on her knuckle and the tiredness in her slumped shoulders.
Inwardly he cursed again that she’d not contacted him. It was beyond insulting, but it had also hurt her. She’d clearly almost been broken trying to survive, despite the little help she’d accepted from those few people. And why had she needed the help of them? Where was her family? She’d said she’d travelled a lot, before stopping here because of Luke, so why had she named her son for an elderly man she’d only known a couple of years?
‘Look, just breathe,’ he muttered. ‘We’ll take this one day at a time.’
Her determined independence infuriated him, but he’d overcome it. Oddly he wanted her to feel safe enough to let him take some of the load she’d denied him all these months. And he wanted—
‘Why did you lie?’ She lifted her head and challenged him again. ‘I’ve tried to explain my actions but you’ve said almost nothing about yours—offered no real reason for why you didn’t even tell me your name. Did you want anonymity? To escape the pressure of being a billionaire? Did you just want an ordinary moment with no one watching so you could seduce some stranger without any repercussions?’ She shook her head. ‘Sorry about that, Javier. But maybe you should try some time on Struggle Street or what it’s like to be judged the second someone learns your name.’
He blinked, taken aback by her sudden ferocity. His defences instinctively rose because these kinds of questions were not ones he ever answered. ‘You’ve no idea what I’ve been through, Emmy,’ he muttered in an instinctive unthinking response. ‘None of the struggles I’ve faced.’
‘Enlighten me, then,’ she dared with a mutinous lift to her chin. ‘Tell me something meaningful. Because we have to work through this. We have a child together and we’re going to need to get to know each other.’
No, they didn’t. He glared at her, rejecting that idea completely. He and Emerald were Luke’s parents, yes. They didn’t need to be anything more to each other. They didn’t need to ‘open up’ and reveal all. They only needed to be able to work together.
He saw the blaze in her eyes ignite and struggled to hold back his urge to respond in a far too physical fashion. Yes, the real problem here was he was only interested in getting to know her in that one, most carnal way all over again. ‘Not tonight.’ He gritted his teeth and shut her down, holding back everything else he wanted to do.
She was clearly exhausted and beyond the fire, in the shining depths of her blue eyes, he could see a soft entreaty—the desire for something he couldn’t offer anyone. She sought emotional intimacy—as if he could build a relationship? No, thank you, and never.
‘Javier?’ she prompted, her temper sparking.
He didn’t blame her for getting angry. But he could hardly admit that now he had her alone, and with time on his side, the last thing he wanted to do was talk. He strove to resist the urge to pull her against him, to remind her that they already knew all they needed to make each other feel physically fantastic. ‘We have eighteen months to discover whatever we actually need to know,’ he growled dismissively. ‘Right now I think it’s best if you get some rest.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘Are you sending me to bed?’
He couldn’t tell if the provocation in her eyes and luscious pout was deliberate or not. But it was too powerful for him to stand. He stared at her for a long moment, his inner tension stringing him out.
‘No, that’s up to you,’ he growled, mentally pleading with his hormones for mercy before rising and walking away. ‘But I need some time out.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘HEY.’
‘Hey, yourself.’
Cool waves washed over Emmy’s feet as she watched the tall hunk of stranger stroll across the white sands towards her as if he’d just walked off the set of an old-school Hepburn movie. He had sandals on and faded red swim shorts finished halfway down muscled thighs—but other than that, he was bare. The waistband of his shorts rode low and a little askew, revealing acres of bronzed skin, smoothly stretched over ridged abs and a wide, well-defined masculine chest. His shoulders were broad and strong. After a couple of moments she had to consciously close her mouth so she wasn’t just standing there gaping at him, but it was almost impossible to believe he was real.