The Billionaire Baby Bombshell

by Paula Roe

  She finally made it to her door and fumbled in her purse for the keycard. A wave of guilt lapped at her heels as she softly made her way inside. Alex wouldn’t lie about Carlos. Not about something this important. And she’d heard it with her own ears. Her brother was behind those awful rumors, not only trying to destroy Alex’s reputation, but also Pam's and Chelsea’s in the process. Three innocent people.

  And then there was her own bombshell. How would Alex take that?

  She gently woke Jasmine, who’d fallen asleep on her couch, then took a quick shower. As the smell of Alex washed from her body, her mind went into overdrive, senses inundated as she recalled every second, every passionate moment of their lovemaking.

  She loved him.

  For another hour she lay awake in her enormous bed, the feather quilt bunched about her waist as she tossed and turned.

  A tiny cry permeated the silence and Yelena rose with relief, padded into Bella’s room and scooped her up in her arms.

  In the semidarkness she gently jogged the hungry baby, cooing softly as she took the bottle from the fridge, heated it then settled on the sofa.

  “Is it wrong that I don’t want to tell him, Bella?” she whispered softly as the baby fed. “I promised Gabriela I’d keep our secret and keep you safe…” She trailed off, her fingers tightening around the bottle. She recalled Alex’s fury, his pain, when he’d first seen Bella on the plane.

  “He still thinks you’re mine.” And as much as she desperately wished Bella was hers in every sense, she knew the lie would eventually come between them. Not right now, not in the first flush of desire and lust. No, it’d be later, when the bonds of trust were again strong between them.

  That is, if there was a later. Alex was desperate to push her away. And right now, she had the awful feeling it would be easier—and safer—if she let him.

  After her restless night, Yelena was determined to focus on work the next morning before the midday flight took her back to reality. But instead of going to her makeshift office where the chance of running into Alex was high, she made a detour for Ruby’s.

  Breakfast and coffee, she reasoned. Plus the added bonus of people watching in case her thoughts wandered.

  She needn’t have worried—when she clicked on to the morning’s papers to check last night’s coverage, one small article caught her eye. Quickly she read, a deep frown forming. According to the reporter’s skillful prose that skirted the edges of truth, she and Alex were deep in the throes of a secret affair.

  “Yelena, do you have a minute?”

  Yelena blinked up from her laptop screen to Pamela Rush, who stood next to her booth, eyes hidden behind large sunglasses. Her fingers played with the plaited belt at her waist, telling Yelena something was off.

  With a reassuring smile, she clicked the laptop closed.

  “Sure. Take a seat.” She nodded to the vacant spot opposite, then gestured to a waiter. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Iced tea, please,” Pam said automatically, giving the waiter a smile as she removed her glasses.

  Yelena waited patiently as Pam carefully folded her sunglasses on the table, then recentered the coaster. Finally, the older woman linked her fingers and glanced out to the entertainment area, to the view of the semicrowded pool beyond.

  “A lovely day for a swim.”

  “Mmm. Did you stay long last night?”

  Pam smiled. “About ten. The bands were still going when I left. And Chelsea looked to be having a good time.”

  Yelena nodded, smiling back.

  A brief pause, then Pam said, “You’re leaving today.”

  “Yes.” Yelena nodded. “Now that we’ve started the ball rolling I need to get a team together, start organizing details for the anniversary, plus put a few feelers out for some one-on-one interviews.”

  Pam looked surprised. “Alex has agreed to it?”

  “Last night was a start. I’m working on it,” Yelena added with a rueful smile.

  “Ah.” Pam paused, her fingers going to a thin, elegant diamond ring on her left hand, methodically turning it around and around. “Chelsea and you have been getting along well.”

  “She’s a great kid.”

  Pam nodded. “Thank you. She’s been so angry for so long—I suggested therapy but she balked at that. Which would be fine except she wasn’t talking to anyone, me and Alex included. I’m grateful she’s had someone to open up to. Which is what brings me here.” She petered off and took a breath. “I need you to organize an interview.”

  Yelena eased back in her seat. “For you?”

  Pam nodded, her gaze direct. Those dark blue depths contained a multitude of feelings—pride, honesty. And fear.

  “Does Alex know?”

  “No. He’d just try and talk me out of it.” Her face turned stormy. “I love him, Yelena, but he always takes on too much responsibility for this family. He’s always has been my little protector, ever since he was a boy.” Her smile was bittersweet, speaking of pain long buried. “No, this is for me, Yelena. I need to do this.”

  Impulsively Yelena reached across the table and placed her hand on Pam’s, looking her straight in the eye. “Okay.”

  Pam nodded, her relieved sigh coming out in a rush. “Thank you.”

  Yelena withdrew to make a note in her diary. “And the other thing?”

  At the sudden silence Yelena glanced up. Pam’s fingers were linked together on the table top.

  “How is your gorgeous baby?”

  Yelena smiled. “Sleeping at the moment. Pam…”

  “Yelena.” Pam’s hand shot out to cover Yelena’s, her fingers suddenly cold despite the warmth of the morning. “I’m sorry. I need to ask you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s a personal question. I’m sorry,” she repeated and quickly pulled her hand back. “But it’s been eating at me ever since you arrived and, well…”

  “Pam,” Yelena said slowly. “Whatever it is, I’ll try my best to answer it.”

  Her face flushing, Pam said, “I have to know. Is your… I mean…” Her gaze dropped to the table as she finally whispered, “Before all this. Did you and Alex…were you…?”

  Yelena sat back in her chair. “Did Alex and I ever date?”

  “Sort of.” Pam’s face flushed deeper. “Were you and he ever…intimate?”

  With a tangled tongue, Yelena stared at the deeply mortified woman. The silence lasted until the waiter brought their drinks and moved on to the next table.

  “No,” Yelena finally managed as she grabbed the cold, tall glass. “Can I ask why you want to know?”

  The woman’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you for being honest. It’s obviously just my eyes playing tricks. Ever since I saw that sweet little baby of yours, well…” She gave a little laugh, wavy with embarrassment. “Bella is the spitting image of Alex and Chelsea at that age—same nose, same chin. And you and Alex do have some chemistry—” She quickly cut herself off with a faltering smile. “Put it down to my eagerness at wanting to be a grandma. Well…” She rose from her seat, palming her glass. “I should let you get back to work. Thank you.”

  Yelena watched Pam go, her brow furrowed. Odd. Very odd. As if Bella would be—

  A terrible, ridiculous thought crashed in, leaving her gasping as the world suddenly tilted on its access. Everything—her brain, her breath, her very heartbeat—came to a screeching sickening halt.

  Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. Gabriela hadn’t… She would have told her.

  There was no way on earth her baby sister had lain in that small hospital, bleeding to death after she’d given birth, using the last breath in her body to lie to her. Which could only mean one possible thing—Gabriela hadn’t known who Bella’s father was.

  With jerky movements, she flipped open her diary, back to last year’s calendar. Her finger shakily traced the dates, skipping backwards as she counted.

  Alex and Gabriela had been dating on and off since May. She paused on July then tapped her
finger thoughtfully. Too many things had happened that month—Gabriela returning from Madrid, the embassy ball. Alex kissing her.

  Her heart bottomed out, leaving a terrible numbness in its wake.

  What was she supposed to do now?

  Thirteen

  Emotionally exhausted, Yelena was unfazed when her family’s official chauffeur greeted her arrival at Canberra airport. She got into her father’s car and strapped Bella in, resigned silence accompanying the drive to the Valero residence.

  The car drove along Morshead Drive, then left onto the King’s Avenue Bridge that took her over Lake Burley Griffin. As they headed towards Capital Hill and Parliament House, Yelena watched the steady flow of traffic. Soon the change of landscape told her they were in Yarralumla. The affluent suburb was populated by foreign diplomats, politicians and various families of Canberra’s super rich, and it showed—from the neat gardens, the subtle and not-so-subtle homes, even the streets themselves. Meticulous and groomed, that’s what the area reflected.

  When the car drew to a halt in the long curving driveway, Yelena finally broke from her apathy. A Valero summons meant only one thing—displeasure.

  She got out of the car, shouldering Bella as she studied what had had once been her home. She still loved the look of those white rendered walls, terra-cotta tiles and clean, smooth angles that made up the seven-bedroomed, two-storied house. And as always, the gardens were superbly groomed, the windows sparkling.

  But it had always been her parents’ house, never hers. This thought was confirmed when she stepped into the living area, an aura of “look, don’t touch” permeating every square inch from its high ceiling to its timber floor and period features.

  On the beautiful antique couch sat her perfectly groomed mother, legs crossed elegantly at the ankles, skirt demurely covering her knees. Her father stood behind, dark and towering, a scowl on his autocratic face. To the left, Carlos leaned against the polished bar, a glass of amber liquid cradled in his hand.

  “What is this, an intervention?” Yelena joked lamely, even as her grip tightened on Bella.

  A servant came forward, hovering expectantly. Yelena frowned.

  “Let Julie settle the baby,” Juan commanded.

  Yelena blinked. “Why?”

  “Because we need to talk.”

  “So talk.” Yelena glared at the unfortunate Julie, who had flushed deep red.

  “Dios.” Juan sighed and waved the servant away. “Fine. I don’t need to remind you, Yelena, that I am not happy with your continued association with Alexander Rush.”

  Her eyes flicked to Carlos. He met her gaze head-on as he slowly took a sip from his glass.

  “It not only impacts on you,” Juan continued sternly. “It affects everyone in this family.”

  “How?”

  “People talk, Yelena,” Maria said tightly. “Your father—this family—has a reputation to uphold in this community. Rumors and malicious gossip can damage it irreparably.”

  “The same way the ones circulating about William Rush’s affair are destroying his family?”

  It wasn’t her mother’s reaction she was after, although Maria’s moue of distaste was satisfying. No, she carefully watched Carlos’ eyes narrow, a second before his expression smoothed out.

  “Yes,” Juan said. “The longer you continue associating with the Rushes, the more damage it will cause.”

  Yelena sighed, her hand automatically going to Bella’s back as she felt the baby stir. She was tired, so very tired of these mind games. The burden of respectability and family honor weighed heavily on her shoulders, dragging her down, warring with her own sense of right.

  “I’m sorry if you feel that way, Papá. But Bennett & Harper signed a contract—”

  “Then get out of it. No one’s indispensible—surely you can hand the job over to someone else?”

  His unconscious insult slapped her firmly in the face and she felt her cheeks color. “No, Papá. Even if I wanted out—which I don’t—I have a promotion riding on this.”

  Juan’s eyes narrowed. “I did not ask you to withdraw, Yelena.”

  Chagrin welled up, chasing away her fatigue. “So your wishes are more important than my career, my life?”

  “We are talking about the Valero name,” Carlos said curtly. “About our public reputation, our—”

  “Oh, how I am sick to death of hearing that!” she hissed. “Especially from you, someone who claims diplomatic immunity every time he gets a speeding ticket.”

  “Yelena,” Juan rumbled ominously.

  “You held the ‘reputation’ card over Gabriela’s head for years and where did that get her?”

  “Yelena!” Maria and Juan echoed in unison.

  “She’s dead. And still you’re so ashamed of her you refuse to let people know. Despite everything she did, despite how disappointed you were, I loved her.” Her voice cracked then, a sob tearing at her throat. Bella let out a grumble, sensitive to her mother’s distress and Yelena immediately started rubbing her back.

  “Of course you did. We all did,” Carlos said quickly.

  Surprised, Yelena stared at him, until Maria added, “But she was also uncontrollable and selfish.” Her mother’s mouth thinned, a red-lipsticked slash of displeasure. “Even when we moved here, she was still the same reckless girl. I know you saw that.”

  “When she was sixteen,” Yelena said, exasperated. “So she dropped out of school, modeled for a few chain-store catalogs. But she quit modeling, she had a regular job. She wanted to move on from her past but you all just wouldn’t let her.”

  “That is enough, Yelena!” Juan thundered, making everyone jump. A second later, Bella let out a mighty wail.

  Yes, it was enough. Yelena shifted Bella to her other shoulder, patting her firmly through the warm layers. “It suited you all to keep her tied to her past mistakes, to use her as an example. But she deserved better. She was my sister. And if this is the way you treat people in this family, then I don’t want to be a part of it anymore.”

  Every face in the room displayed their own version of total and utter shock and for long seconds, triumph spiked Yelena’s blood. A short-lived triumph when mortification quickly flushed her burning cheeks.

  She turned on her heel, stalked out the living room and down the hallway, her clipped footsteps echoing on the polished slate.

  With a hefty wrench she pulled the front door open and the blast of cold air hit her hot face.

  What have you done?

  Panic crept in, spreading its insidious tentacles of doubt and uncertainty, but for the first time she kept right on going, down the steps and across the driveway, to the car that still waited.

  You’ve done it. You’re free. Instead of the crushing sense of loss she’d expected from this moment, relief mingling with tentative joy lifted her heart.

  She patted Bella, warm and comforting against her chest. She was well and truly alone now. Yes, there was fear of the unknown, but she’d overcome that before. She’d do it again. “Yelena!”

  She whipped her head around to see Carlos slowly jogging to catch up to her. When he stopped, his small smile oozed nervous contrition. “Look, I think I owe you an apology.”

  Her heart gave a small cautious jump. “For what?”

  “For what happened on Saturday night. I’d had a few drinks and things just got a little…heated.”

  Yelena let the silence flow around them. Despite the halfhearted apology, the pain of his rejection still throbbed under the surface.

  “So I’m sorry, okay? Okay?”

  His smile spread wider, one eyebrow curving up as he tilted his head in that charismatic way she’d seen a thousand times before. But now, after everything she’d seen and heard, she was immune. Instead of giving him an answering smile, she forced her expression to remain impassive.

  “Here, let me get this.” He opened the car door and stepped aside.

  What does he want? The thought lingered as she bent to strap Bella in the b
aby capsule.

  “So…you’re still seeing him?”

  Her body stiffened but she kept on with her task. “He’s my client.”

  When she straightened, Carlos had shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at his feet.

  A perfect picture of reluctant gossip. Oh, come on. It was all Yelena could do not to roll her eyes. Instead she scowled, which only seemed to appease Carlos.

  “Then you should know he called this morning and threatened me.”

  Threatened? That wasn’t Alex’s style but she was way too tired to tell Carlos that. “And why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I need your help.”

  She slowly leaned against the doorframe. “How?”

  He paused for effect. If she didn’t know any better she’d peg him as reluctant, even embarrassed. But she did know him, all too well.

  “I was thinking—and I know this is a lot to ask, and I wouldn’t normally do this—”

  “Carlos…”

  His irritation showed in the brief downward turn of his mouth. “If you could have a word with him, maybe convince him not to—”

  The sharp inward sound of Yelena’s horrified breath silenced him.

  “No.”

  Carlos’s expression tightened. “So you’d let this stupid vendetta go to court? How is this going to impact on us? Our parents? Your campaign?” He added in a moment of inspiration.

  With cool deliberation, she got in the car, slid down the window then closed the door with a firm clunk.

  “Carlos,” she said slowly as she slid her sunglasses into place. “Let me say this once and once only. I heard you and Alex by the pool on Saturday night. As much as you’re my brother and I love you, I will not—cannot—trust you. You’ve hurt too many people, including me, for us to ever be okay again.”

  As she turned to clip herself in, Carlos slapped a hand on the window frame, making her jump.

  “So you’re choosing him over your own family?”

  She sighed. Surely her heart couldn’t break anymore, not when she knew the full extent of Carlos’s malice? Yet a tiny piece still cracked, reminding her of the brother she’d once blindly adored.