Claiming His Secret Son

by Olivia Gates

  At least she seemed to have steered him away from any suspicion he might have had about Mauri. His age alone must have been a red flag, and she’d gone light-headed holding her breath, expecting the worst. After all the suspense, he’d only made a passing comment and had taken her claim that Mauri was adopted without batting a lid.

  But...maybe this very reaction indicated she was overreacting. Maybe even telling him the truth about Mauri would be the best way to end his infiltration of her life.

  A man like him, who lived separate from humanity, without connections, who only cared about having the world at his feet, would probably be appalled at the news he’d fathered a son. His lack of curiosity, or the one that had been satisfied by a mere word, indicated that her assessment was probably correct.

  Furthermore, this inexplicable visit itself might turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Maybe seeing her in her domestic milieu as a mother, especially to his biological son, would be a too-banal dose of reality, spoiling the fantasy of the wild affair he’d been planning to have with the mysterious femme fatale he seemed to think her. Maybe it would all douse his passion and make him walk away now, not later.

  That sounded plausible. There was no way he would involve himself with her now that he’d seen her “tribe.” Spending time with her family had probably been a quaint novelty to him, a field experiment in how the other half lived to add to his arsenal of analyzing human beings, to better devise strategies to control and milk them for all they were worth. But there was no way he’d want to repeat it.

  He’d only said he would to punish her because she’d dared challenge him. But once he was satisfied he’d made her sweat it out long enough, he’d let her know he never intended an encore.

  Once she came to this conclusion, exhaustion, emotional and physical, descended on her like a giant mallet. She had no idea when sleep claimed her.

  * * *

  She woke up feeling as if she’d been in a maelstrom.

  And she had been. Her dreams had been a vortex filled with Richard and their tempestuous time together, past and present. He’d always wreaked havoc inside her, awake or asleep. There’d never been any escaping him. Not in her psyche. She’d just have to settle for escaping him in reality.

  By the time she headed to her office, her new conviction that he’d fade from her life again made her wonder if she should come clean to Rose and Jeffrey about her past.

  She’d tried to after she’d left Richard yesterday, to deprive him of that coercion card. But their schedules hadn’t allowed her to even broach the subject. So she’d scheduled a meeting with Rose first thing in the morning, the one sure way to get a hold of her.

  But if Richard disappeared again, should she expose the ugly truth of her history to Rose and Jeffrey? Just the knowledge would scar their psyches. And what if they worried her past would catch up with her and they’d be standing too close when it did? She was certain there was absolutely no danger of that, or she wouldn’t have taken their partnership offer. But what if they couldn’t feel safe with her around?

  She stood by her conviction they’d never judge her, would be more supportive than they already were. But if they worried about their family’s safety at all, she’d have to leave.

  And she didn’t want to leave. Them, the practice, her new place. It was the first time she felt she had real friends, a workplace where she belonged and a home.

  By the time she opened her office door she’d made her decision.

  She’d wait to see what Richard did. If he disappeared again, that would be that. If he didn’t...

  No. She wouldn’t consider that possibility until it came to pass.

  Suddenly she found herself plucked from the ground and suspended against the door she’d just closed with two-hundred-plus pounds of premium maleness plastered against her.

  “You’re late.”

  A squeeze of her buttocks accompanied his reprimand before he crashed his lips over hers, invading her with the taste of him, the distillation of dominance and danger.

  But he was invading more than her essence. He was breaching her last privacy, leaving her no place to hide. Just when she’d convinced herself he’d leave her alone, set her free.

  She’d do anything to make him let her go. Even beg.

  But his large hands were spreading her thighs around his hips, raising her to thrust his erection up at her core as he dragged her down on it. His tongue filled her again and again, drank her moans as they formed. Reality softened, awareness expanded to encompass his every breath and heartbeat. Nothing remained but Richard and her and their fusion.

  “Richard...”

  “Yes, let me hear your distress for me, make up for the agonizing night I spent, needing you under me, all around me.”

  Something shrill cut through the fog of sensations as he undid her blouse and bra, bent to engulf one nipple in his mouth. The first hot suckle almost made her faint with pleasure. Then the clamor rose again until she realized what it was—her mind screaming, reminding her of the threat he posed to her existence and everyone in it.

  It finally imbued her with enough sanity and strength to push out of the craved prison of his arms and passion, to stumble away and put her clothes back in order.

  “What are you doing here?”

  At his question she turned to him with an incredulous huff. “I won’t even dignify that by echoing it.”

  Lids heavy, his gaze swept her in ruthless hunger, strumming her simmering insanity. “I told you to end your partnership with the Andersons. And what did you do? You reported to work yesterday and again first thing this morning. When I made it clear this is the one thing I won’t budge on.”

  She tossed him a contemptuous glance. “You don’t have to budge. Only to bugger off, as you say in your homeland.”

  His lips twisted in that palpitation-inducing smile that seemed to come easier to him since yesterday. “Don’t think that because I want you now more than ever I will bargain with you over this. It’s not a matter of either you do it or you don’t.”

  “You’re right. It’s not a matter of ‘either or’ but ‘neither nor.’” At his arching eyebrow, she huffed. “You do know your grammar, don’t you? The language was coined where you hail from. I will neither end anything with the Andersons nor start anything with you.”

  A theatric exhalation. “Pity. After everything that happened between us, I would have rather not forced you into complying. Oh, well.”

  He produced his phone from his pocket, pressed one virtual button. The line opened in two seconds and she heard a deep voice on the other end. She thought it said, “Sir.”

  Without taking his eyes off her, Richard got to the point of his call at once. “Murdock, I need a court order to shut down the Anderson Surgery Center in forty-eight hours.”

  With that he ended the call and continued looking at her.

  So that was his extreme measure. If she wouldn’t leave, he’d take everything from under her. And she had no doubt he could and would do it. And that would only be for starters. In case this somehow didn’t work, he would only escalate his methods of destruction.

  And none of it made any sense.

  She cried out her confusion. “Why do you want me to stop working here? What is it to you? Is this even about me or...” A suspicion exploded in her mind. “Is this about Rose? Did you discover her relationship to Burton and come here to clean up every trace of him, including anybody who knew him? If so, did you only want me out of the way so I wouldn’t warn them about you? And now you’ve decided to strike directly since I didn’t cooperate and spoiled your preferred stealth methods?”

  As the conviction sank in her mind, from one breath to the next her desperation turned to aggression in defense of her friends. “Burton was a monster who deserved far worse than whatever you’ve done to him. But she was his victim. Besides that, Rose and Jeffrey are the absolute best people I’ve ever known, and I’d die before I let you near them. And that’s not a figure of spee
ch.”

  As if he hadn’t heard her tirade, he cocked his head at her. “How did you come to know that couple?”

  “Wh-what?”

  “There was no evidence of when you met, or of your developing relationship, not even emails or phone calls, and I want to know how you did this.”

  “I—I met Rose in a conference in Texas four years ago.”

  “And? I want to know what led to their asking you to be their partner and not any of their long-term colleagues.”

  His icy focus shook her. Where was this interrogation heading? “I felt a...kinship to her at once. I guess she felt the same, since she told me her life story as we waited for a late lecturer. I was shocked to realize that Burton used to be her stepfather.”

  His eyes and jaw hardened. He gestured for her to continue.

  “I didn’t tell her about me, but that kindred feeling only grew when I knew both of our lives were blighted by that monster. Incredibly, she felt the same way. Afterward and for years, we talked for hours daily, using online video chat. We practically designed and decorated this place that way. She and Jeffrey kept pushing me to come live in the States and be their partner. The moment I could, I took my family and came back, thinking I was giving us all a new and safe life. Then you appeared to mess everything up.”

  His eyes grew heavier with so much she couldn’t fathom. “I don’t want to mess things up. Not anymore.”

  “Yeah, right. That’s why you’re going to shut down the practice Rose and Jeffrey worked for years to build and invested all their money in.”

  “It’s all up to you. Walk out of here, and I do, too.”

  “You mean you’d leave them alone, for real? You wouldn’t have done that eventually anyway?”

  “I already said going after them was to force you to leave. I have no interest in sabotaging their business.”

  “So this isn’t about Rose? You’re not after her?”

  “It is about her.” Before his reply sent her alarm soaring again, he reached for her, dragged her against his rock-hard body. “But the one I’m after is you, as you well know. So I suppose we can negotiate after all. Taking everything into consideration, I’ll make you a deal.”

  She squirmed against him. “What deal?”

  “I want you out of here. And I want you, full stop. You want me, too, but need to be assured of your family’s safety. So here’s my deal. You will make use of everything I can give you, will be with me every possible minute that our schedules permit. And I promise to stay away from your family.”

  His hypnotic voice seeped through her bones with delicious compulsion, until she wondered why she’d ever put up a fight when being with him had always been all she’d ever wanted. And if he promised her family would be safe...

  Then he added, “But only if you stay away from mine.”

  She pushed away to stare up at him, her mind shying away from an enormous realization.

  Then he spelled it out. “Burton was my stepfather, too.”

  * * *

  Richard had never intended to reveal that fact to Isabella. But he never did anything he intended where she was concerned. Nothing that was even logical or sane. He touched her, looked into her eyes, and his ability to reason was incinerated.

  Not that he cared. As he’d told her, so many things had changed in the past forty-eight hours. His previous intentions weren’t applicable anymore. He wanted her, had already decided to leave her family situation untouched. Laying down the card of his relationship to Rose now felt appropriate.

  He’d always wondered if she’d ever worked out that his revenge on Burton had had a personal element, until last night when she’d made it clear she’d always thought it purely professional. He’d expected the truth to come as a surprise, but the avalanche of shock and horror that swept her at his revelation was another thing he’d failed to project.

  Before he could think of his next move, the door opened after only a cursory knock.

  And he found himself face-to-face with Rose.

  His heart gave his ribs a massive thump as observations came like bullets from a machine gun. Rose’s silky ponytail thudding over her shoulder with her sudden halt, the white coat swinging over a chic green silk blouse and navy blue skirt, her open face with its elegant features tensing and the eyes full of affection as she entered Isabella’s office emptying to fill with surprise.

  He’d checked her schedule, made sure she’d be occupied with patients during his visit. This confrontation hadn’t been a possibility.

  But it was a reality now.

  And finding the sister he’d watched from afar for more than twenty-five years less than ten feet away was a harsher blow than he’d ever thought it could be.

  Tearing his gaze away, he turned to Isabella, who was gaping at him as if she hadn’t even noticed Rose’s entry.

  “I’ll leave you to your visitor, Dr. Sandoval. We’ll continue our business later.”

  He turned around and Rose blinked, moved as if coming out of a trance. “Don’t go on my account.”

  He gave her his best impersonal glance. “I was just about to leave anyway.”

  Before either woman reacted, he’d almost cleared the door when Rose caught him by his sleeve.

  Dismay soaring, he raised an eyebrow with all the cold impatience he could muster. He needed this confrontation to be over.

  “Rex?”

  Everything inside braked so hard he realized for the first time how people dropped unconscious from shock.

  The sister who’d last seen him when she was six years old had recognized him on sight.

  But it was still just a suspicion. Only he could solidify it. Or Isabella, now that he’d revealed his connection to Rose. But knowing her, she wouldn’t be the one to do so. So it was up to him.

  Feeling his insides clench in a rusty-toothed vise, he made his choice. “You must have mistaken me for someone else. The name is Richard. Richard Graves.”

  He flicked Isabella a warning glance, just in case. Not that he’d needed to. Isabella seemed to have lost the ability to speak or even blink. But when she regained the ability to talk, if she did tell Rose...

  He couldn’t worry about that now. He had to get the sodding hell out of there.

  Not giving Rose a chance to say anything else, he turned and strode away, fighting the urge to break out into a run.

  Once in his car, he drove away as if from an earth fissure that threatened to engulf everything in its path.

  Which was a very accurate description.

  Everything since he’d seen Isabella again had been like an earthquake that had cracked the ground his whole life was built on. He’d thought he could stem the spread of the chasms and return to a semblance of stability again.

  But there was no fooling himself anymore. He’d set an unstoppable sequence of events in motion. And if he didn’t stop the chain reaction, it would unravel his whole existence.

  And everyone else’s, too.

  * * *

  Two hours later in his penthouse, after a couple of drinks and a hundred laps in the pool, he had a plan in place.

  He’d just gotten out of the shower when the intercom that never rang did.

  The concierge apologized profusely, claiming that it was probably a false alarm, since he’d never allowed anyone up in the past six years, but a lady insisted he would want her up.

  Isabella. She’d preempted him.

  A wave of excitement and anticipation swept him as he informed the concierge that Isabella was always to be let up without question. He ran to dress, but she arrived at his door so fast he had to rush there barefoot in just his pants.

  The moment he saw her on his doorstep, he wanted to haul her to bed, lose himself inside her and forget about all they had to resolve and all he had to do.

  “Isabella...”

  She pushed past him, strode inside. It took him a couple of minutes of following her through his penthouse to realize—to believe—what she was doing.

&
nbsp; She was heading to his bedroom. And she was stripping.

  Almost every surprise he’d ever had had involved her. This one almost had him launching himself at her as she passed one of the couches, tackling her facedown and thrusting inside her before they even landed on it.

  He held back only because he wanted to let her take this where she wanted, to savor the torment of watching her disrobe for him, exposing her glory to his aching, covetous gaze. The contrast between the pitiless seduction of her action and her straitlaced stride made it all the more mind-meltingly arousing.

  Once in his lower-floor bedroom, he could barely see her until he remembered he could turn on the lights with a whisper.

  The expansive space filled with the subdued lighting he preferred, showcasing her beauty in golden highlights and arcane shadows. At the foot of his bed, she turned, wearing only white bikini panties and same-color, three-inch-heeled sandals. Her eyes were burning sapphires.

  He approached, waiting for her to say or do something. She only stood there looking up at him.

  Suddenly the urge to inspect her body, with the insight of new realizations, knowing she’d given birth to his child, overtook him. His eyes swept her voluptuousness, luxuriating in her as a whole before basking in each asset separately.

  Her hips were lush with femininity, her waist a sharp concavity, her legs long and smooth, her shoulders square and strong. Every curve and line and swell of her was the epitome of womanliness, the exact pattern that activated his libido. Each inch of her had ripened to its utmost potential. He now realized it wasn’t only time but motherhood that had effected the change.

  Turning his savoring from visual to tactile, he caressed her buttocks, her back, leaving her firm belly for last. His skull tightened over his brain as he imagined her ripening every day with the child they’d made together during one of their pleasure-drenched deliriums. The idea of his seed taking root inside her, growing into a new life, that vibrant, brilliant boy who’d rocked the foundations of his world last night, turned his arousal into agony. He needed to claim her, to mark her with his essence again...now.