For the Sake of the Secret Child

by Yvonne Lindsay

  “But your dinner, his dinner—”

  “I scrambled Jasper some eggs and made toast with some of the bread I brought over earlier. He wolfed it down and then reminded me he was supposed to take his medicine.”

  Mia was overwhelmed. This international jet-setting playboy had settled into her son’s evening routine and taken care of him and she’d been totally oblivious. Her legs became too unsteady to hold her up any longer and she sat down heavily on a chair, her eyes still locked on Ben.

  “I don’t know how to thank you. Really, I don’t. You should have woken me so you could get back to the hotel.”

  “It’s not like I had anything more pressing to do,” he said as he sat down opposite her. “Besides, you looked like you were spiking quite a fever there for a while. It was easier to let you sleep it off and take care of Jasper for you.”

  “What time did he go back to bed?”

  “He fell asleep about nine, after insisting on several stories.”

  She smiled. “He’s like that.”

  “I told him about my home country and what it was like growing up there in my family’s castillo. He was fascinated. I promised him I’d take him there one day.”

  Mia’s spine snapped straight and an icy fist closed around her heart.

  “You what? You had no right to do that,” she cried.

  “I have every right. He is my son, after all, isn’t he?”

  Mia struggled to deny his words. So far she had managed not to lie outright to Ben—it shouldn’t be all that difficult to do, should it? But right now the words of denial froze on her lips as Ben sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs.

  “He told me when his birthday is—showed me on the calendar on his bedroom wall. He was conceived when we were together, wasn’t he, Mia?”

  She swallowed against the sudden painful dryness of her throat and tried to draw a breath into lungs that were suddenly too constricted to fill.

  “I’m not proud of my behavior back then but, honestly, any man I slept with that summer could be his father,” she finally managed in a strained voice.

  Ben’s eyes narrowed and she saw the flare of anger reflected in their depths making them look black rather than brown. Instantly she wished her words back. It was true she wasn’t proud of her behavior from that period in her life, but when it came to physical intimacy, she had little to be ashamed of. Benedict del Castillo had been the only man she’d shared her body with that summer.

  “Why won’t you just tell me the truth?” he asked, his voice as cold and steady as a surgeon’s blade.

  “Because I owe you nothing. Even if you were Jasper’s father, why on earth would I tell you? You’re hardly the kind of man I’d want in his life. Sure, I used to behave fast and loose, but all that changed when I had Jas. You, however, well—the Internet is full of your exploits and your conquests all over Europe. You change your women as frequently as you change your suits.

  “You go from adventure to adventure—whether it’s street racing in Monaco, rock climbing in Switzerland or anything else that catches your fancy for a moment, and then is quickly discarded again. None of that makes you father material in my book, and as far as I’m concerned you’re certainly not the kind of man Jasper deserves in his life. Right now, to you, he’s merely something to possess. You know nothing about him and yet because of a vague physical resemblance you expect me to give you rights you probably don’t even really want.”

  “You know nothing about what I really want, but you will find out. Trust me on this.”

  “Trust you?” She forced a broken laugh. “I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could kick you, and right now that wouldn’t be any distance at all. Look, I appreciate what you did for me tonight but, please, leave now. You will not hear what you want to from me. Not now. Not ever.”

  “You’re making a bad mistake, Mia.”

  “Oh, believe me, I’m not. If I wasn’t bound to you by that stupid contract you’d be leaving here right now.”

  “You’re bound to me by more than a contract, Mia, and don’t you forget it.”

  As Mia watched him leave the room and let himself out she sagged back in her seat and wondered just what she was letting herself in for. It was clear he wasn’t going to give up on this quest of his and, in the end, where would that leave her and her son?

  Seven

  Ben looked back at Queenstown as the boat motored away from the public dock of the bustling town center. A wonderfully relaxing day in the Gibbston Valley with his friends, Jim and Cathy Samson, had taken the edge off of his fury over Mia’s stubbornness last night, but it had done nothing to soften his determination. Although he had no conclusive proof, he knew to the depths of his soul that Jasper was his son. Even now he felt a bond with the little boy he’d never have imagined possible.

  Her words had spun in his head all night. So she didn’t think he was father material, did she? At first the words had incensed him…but as he’d tossed and turned during the sleepless night, he’d been forced to admit to himself that he could understand some of her fears. Nothing from their brief, anonymous interlude would have given her the impression that he had any immediate intention of becoming a husband, much less a father. It hadn’t been on his radar then at all.

  But on the other side of the coin, he knew that motherhood hadn’t been in her plans, either. And yet she had risen to the challenge, capably loving and caring for their child in the years since. Did she think he was unable to achieve the same growth and maturity? Was that why she’d been so determined to keep him at a distance ever since his arrival in New Zealand? Did she truly believe he was incapable of treating anyone—woman or child—as more than a temporary diversion? The thought stung, and made him all the more unwavering in his resolve to stay the course on this challenge. He would gain rights to his son, even if it meant fighting it all out in court.

  He hunched into his wool coat and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. It didn’t have to be like this. All she’d had to do was acknowledge him as Jasper’s father and they’d have been able to find a common ground on which to base their parenthood. But no. She had to fight him. Deny him his rights.

  In the distance now, he could see the driver and car that had been assigned to him for today pull away from the no-stopping area on the dock. It seemed that Mia had managed to follow all his stipulations on his contract to the letter so far. For some reason, that rankled rather than satisfied him. Now he understood how important the financial side of their agreement was for her, it would have been interesting to play her a little and see just how far she was prepared to go to protect her livelihood. But he’d been unable to fault anything so far.

  This morning when he’d arrived in Queenstown, he’d been whisked away from the dock in leather-seated, climate-controlled comfort, and headed out to the Gibbston Highway where his friends’ vineyard and winery were situated. The scenery en route to the Gibbston Valley was at a complete contrast to his last visit but he’d found the cool white and gray beauty of the landscape equally as striking as the summer heat and colors.

  His lips curled in a bitter smile. The difference in climate between this visit and last was a perfect mirror for his reception from Mia. The first time, full of heat and intensity, the second, the complete antithesis.

  Except for when he’d kissed her. That had been incendiary. Yet that memory, too, was tainted by the realization that even as she’d responded to his kiss, she’d been hiding the truth from him about their son.

  Well, incendiary or not, she’d soon learn that he didn’t back down from what was important in his life, and his son was the most important thing to him right now. Today he’d begun to gather information about Mia with the intention of proving he was the better option to be Jasper’s parent. While his objective had been clear in his own mind, he hadn’t anticipated discovering how far off the mark he’d been about her. The information he’d gleaned from the conversation with his friends during the day had been eye-opening and
had shown a side of Mia he hadn’t expected. A side that demonstrated her grit and determination. He supposed he had to allow for some admiration of how hard she’d worked to keep her family home in the face of her father’s financial failures and the fallout after his death. It couldn’t have been easy for her.

  Jim and Cathy had been full of praise for her—how strong she’d been for her mother, how she’d adapted to their straitened circumstances, how she’d built the hotel/spa business out of nothing, even how she’d slid into motherhood as if it was as natural to her as breathing.

  A kernel of guilt unfurled deep inside. She’d gone through hell and was holding on to her life by the tips of her fingers. It wasn’t his intention to rip it all away from her. But she, in turn, had to understand that there was more at stake than merely her balking at admitting his paternity of Jasper. His entire family was counting on him now. Even if he couldn’t fulfill both terms of his agreement with his brothers—to marry and start a family—at least he could produce a son to prove to his grandfather that the del Castillos would continue for at least another generation, despite Abuelo’s fears to the contrary.

  For centuries the prosperity of the people of Isla Sagrado had been tied into the success of the del Castillo family. They had all seen some difficult times and had fought against adversity to be where they were today. While he may not officially carry the name, Jasper was a del Castillo. He deserved the chance to know his father’s family, see his father’s home. And Ben deserved the chance to know Jasper, too.

  Ben had spent only a few hours with the boy the night before, but that brief time had been infinitely precious. To see his son smile, to hear him laugh, to have the opportunity to care for him and get to know him—it was a gift Ben had never thought he’d be able to have after he’d learned the results of the car crash. Mia had no right to take that away from him. Especially not if she was motivated by some misguided belief that he was not able to love and care for his son.

  She would learn, though, that when the chips were down, the del Castillos didn’t give up. Ben was not about to give up on his son. Not under any circumstances.

  While Mia waited in the spa for Benedict to arrive for his massage, she filled her time with a mini inventory of supplies. Anything to take her mind off their impending time together. She’d been tempted to take another sick day. She still felt wrung out and her throat was still a little sore but she’d realized this morning that hiding from him wasn’t going to solve anything. He’d struck her as the kind of man who approached things head-on. At least if she spent whatever time necessary with him, he was less likely to be able to ambush her.

  Jasper was almost a hundred percent well again today, although she’d carefully instructed Elsa on when his antibiotics were due through the day. With any luck he’d be fit for day care again soon. As far as she was concerned, right now, the less time Jasper spent in Ben’s vicinity, the better.

  A sound at the doorway made her stop what she was doing. She forced herself to calmly turn around and place the clipboard and pen she’d been using onto the reception desk in front of her.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Ben said.

  “I was feeling a bit better so thought I’d let Cassie off the hook.” She stepped out from behind the reception desk and crossed the short distance to the door to her treatment room and gestured to Ben to go inside. “You know the drill. I’ll be in when you’re ready.”

  For a moment he hesitated, as if he was about to say something, but then he simply went into the room and closed the door behind him. Mia pressed a hand to her throat. She could feel her pulse racing beneath her fingertips. Maybe doing this when she wasn’t quite up to speed hadn’t been such a great idea after all. Just seeing him was enough to upset the rhythm of her breathing, let alone her heart rate.

  He’d turned up today in designer jeans and a long-sleeved black polo shirt and the effect was mouthwatering. The fabric clung to the lines of his sculpted body, a body she knew all too well. A body that even in her semi-well state sent all her receptors pinging on full alert. She closed her eyes and drew in a steadying breath. She’d done this before and she could do it again. He was a mass of muscle and tissue and skin and bone. Her job was to massage, relax and provide muscular relief.

  Opening her eyes, Mia knocked gently on the door before letting herself in. As usual, the calming scent she had burning in the oil burner hit her immediately, relaxing her and settling her mind into work mode. As she had done the last two times, she straightened the covers over Ben’s legs and buttocks before starting her routine.

  “How was your day?” she asked conversationally as she pressed her hands against his warm, smooth skin.

  “Do you really want to know, or are you merely being polite?” Ben answered from beneath her.

  “I’m being polite,” she said carefully, determined to keep control of both her temper and her nerves.

  He snorted a derisive laugh. “Well, at least you’re honest. I suppose if I were to be as honest I’d tell you that I found out some interesting things about you today.”

  Mia stilled her movements. “You were asking about me? Who? Where?”

  He mentioned the Samsons, where they’d met at the New Year’s Eve party three and a half years ago.

  “Oh,” she said quietly, suddenly wishing she’d never embarked upon this conversation in the first place. “I haven’t seen them since.”

  “They said that, too. Seems you haven’t made any effort to stay in touch with your old crowd. Why is that, Mia?”

  “Like I’ve said to you before, people change. I changed, to be more precise. I couldn’t operate on their level anymore and I didn’t want to feel as if I had to. Besides, I didn’t really know them all that well.”

  She remembered all too vividly the well-meaning phone calls, the gently probing questions about how she was managing. Sure, a handful of her old friends had been genuine in their concern but some had simply been digging for gossip, as if the horrible newspaper headlines hadn’t been revealing enough. Mia had had enough to focus on with her mother’s fragile state and her own pregnancy to have to worry about what her friends and acquaintances thought and who she could trust anymore.

  The media had been vicious about her father’s financial ruin. Nothing had been sacred. She well remembered the photos plastered in the papers every time she set foot in Queenstown or even further afield—their captions speculating on how much of her daddy’s money Mia would be spending on that occasion. Each shot, each conjecture, had been yet another nail in her father’s coffin and eventually he hadn’t been able to continue any longer.

  And then they’d really grown nasty, insinuating how maintaining the lifestyle expected of his women had driven Reuben Parker to take a rope to one of the trees at the back of the property and take his life. It hadn’t taken long before Mia had found herself second-guessing every word of condolence, every gesture of comfort, from the people she’d counted among her friends. Eventually it was simply easier to refuse all invitations, issue none herself and retreat into the world her father had left for them. A world she had painstakingly rebuilt piece by piece.

  Her bank manager had asked her why she didn’t just sell up entirely, settle the outstanding debts and strike out somewhere anew. But Parker’s Retreat had been in her father’s family for generations. His forebears had hacked out an existence in hostile land to build a dream for generations. She wasn’t prepared to let that all go, especially not when she harbored a precious new generation within her own body. And especially not when she felt as if much of it had been her fault.

  “You know Jim and Cathy aren’t like that. They don’t judge people by everyone else’s standards.”

  Mia made a non-committal noise and moved into the next stage of the massage, hoping he’d drop the subject. She should have known better.

  “So just how much in debt are you, Mia? Converting this property into a hotel and spa can’t have been cheap. Not on top of the other de
bts I understand you took responsibility for.”

  “That’s between me and my bank manager,” she said carefully, hoping her flare of anger didn’t color her words. How dare he ask such a personal question?

  “I’m guessing with the current economic climate you haven’t exactly been running at full capacity, have you?”

  “We’re doing okay,” she insisted.

  In all honesty, though, they were barely making ends meet. Yes, they’d done well building up a client base and securing bookings, but she knew that she’d been ambitious with her plans for the hotel and spa. Not wanting to take it in increments by building first the hotel and then the treatment side of the business over time, she’d done it all at once. She’d gone into business in the same manner she’d gone into everything in her life—boots and all. It was all paying off this time—but slowly.

  “The contract we signed must have been a godsend, hmmm?”

  “I won’t deny it was welcome, until I found out exactly who it was with.”

  He chuckled and beneath her hands she felt his shoulder muscles tense.

  “You think you struck a deal with the Devil?”

  “You could say that,” she said carefully. After all, it was his phrasing, not hers.

  “Then you’d do well not to tax my generosity.”

  Oh boy. Here it came. His demands. She had to concede he definitely had a way about him. Circle slowly, show concern—care, even, if last night was any indicator—and then go straight for the jugular.

  “Are you dissatisfied with your stay here?” she asked.

  “Not yet, but it’s early days.”

  She focused her energy on a particularly taut section of muscle at the top of his hip and was rewarded by his grunt of discomfort as she did so.

  “I shall consider myself warned then,” she answered through tight lips and made a silent resolve to ensure her staff was one hundred percent up to speed with the conditions of his occupancy.