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Bad Blood Collection

Page 96

by Various Authors


  “We aren’t.” She held her ground as his head snapped up, dark eyes locking on hers again. “I won’t argue that the children are better off staying here with me for the most part. But know this. I’m cutting back on my career, but I’m not giving it up.”

  He planted both hands on his hips when she suspected he was tempted to drive them through a wall.

  She took in his challenging posture and carefully blanked expression and knew he’d shut her out. Knew she’d have to cut to the heart of what troubled him before they could resolve this battle. And though they’d kept their voices tempered for the most part, it was clearly a battle of wills.

  Leila affected a sweet smile that had him scowling even more. “While I am working, I thought you could watch our children those few times I’m away. After all, they deserve to know both of their parents.”

  “The children will know me. I will spend much of my time here,” he said. “Yes, working.”

  “I will make time to be with them.”

  “How good of you,” she said, knowing that she’d touched on an issue that troubled him deeply.

  “Rafael, all you have talked about since we met was having a family. You say you don’t want me to work, you want me to stay home and be with the children. Yet you plan to continue with your career and make time for your children. Is that the kind of family you want?”

  Rafael didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t say a word as he took plates from a cabinet and turned back to the stove.

  Leila huffed out a weary sigh. When the subject got too personal, he retreated into his shell. Right now that broad back was racked tight with tension while he focused all his attention on cooking, using it as his shield to stop her from prying beyond the tiny bit he was willing to reveal.

  It was almost as if he were afraid to be responsible for his own children! As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she knew what troubled Rafael. Her proud, strong husband was afraid to be alone with his children. To be responsible for them. That’s why he wanted her to be at home all the time, so he wouldn’t have to care for his children without her. And she knew exactly who to blame.

  My God, such emotional scars that beast of a man had left on the son he refused to claim!

  Rafael placed a generous portion of barbecued meat on a plate and passed it to her. She took it automatically, willing him to open up to her. But he didn’t say a word as he prepared a plate for himself.

  Leila set her meal on the table and dropped onto a chair. Though the intense aroma was so enticing she nearly drooled, her stomach was so tied in knots she doubted she would be able to swallow a bite.

  “You’re not like him, Rafael,” she said when he finally joined her, every inch of his gorgeously honed frame taut with glacial tension. “You’ll be a good father.”

  “You don’t know that.” The uncertainty in her brave husband’s voice terrified her.

  She reached over and ran her palm over his corded arm, feeling the tight coil of tension that held him stiff. “I know you are gentle. Kind. Loving. Our children will adore you, and you’ll spoil them rotten.”

  He downed his head, breathing hard, taking it all in but saying nothing. She bit her lower lip, more concerned about his fears than her own right now. And that’s what had him in its grip. Fear that he would be like his father. That he might harm their children.

  That was an emotion she understood far too well, she thought as she stared at her plate. She’d barely touched a bite, but then their conversation had pretty much killed her appetite.

  “I need your help, Rafael.” That brought his gaze up to hers, and she cringed at the inner pain reflected in those dark troubled eyes. “I’m afraid that as I grow, I won’t be able to cope with the changes. That I’ll skip meals. Lose weight.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Watch over me,” she said. “Help me turn into the mother I want to be, and I’ll do all I can to prove to you that you’re a far better man, and father, than your own ever could be.”

  He stared at her for the longest time. Finally, he turned his hand over, the palm up in a silent plea that tugged at her heart.

  “All right,” he said.

  Leila swallowed the well of emotion clogging her throat and reached over, resting her hand in his. His long fingers clasped hers, not tight, but she felt the intense connection clear to her soul.

  A ghost of a smile touched his mouth, and the tension that pounded through her started to lessen. But they still had a mountain to climb.

  Her gaze lowered to their joined hands again. This was the invisible thread that bound them together. Fragile. Tenuous.

  It wouldn’t take much to break it. To shatter them as well. Could two damaged souls mend the wounds of their pasts?

  She hoped so, for it wasn’t just about them anymore. Two precious lives depended on both of them to triumph.

  * * *

  Much like they’d done at the film festival in France, they fell into a lazy routine that carried them through the next few weeks. She became familiar with the small house staff, immediately liking the housekeeper and cook. She learned that the gardener was from the same small village as her mother.

  She and Rafael had also visited with a noted obstetrician in São Paulo. Though much of her initial fears had been eliminated at that first visit, she was still guarded about her pregnancy and her own ability to accept the inevitable changes in her body.

  The days passed with her and Rafael lounging on the patio taking in the sun, watching a film together in his home theater and strolling in the garden hand in hand. Neither spoke of their fears.

  She told how she’d like to decorate the nursery, hoping to get his feedback as well. His reply was that she could buy whatever she needed and hire as many as it took to get the work done. As if she didn’t have the funds to do what she wished.

  At night they slept in each other’s arms, holding on tight as if afraid this would suddenly end. The doctor had even told them that lovemaking was fine as long as they didn’t do anything too physical. But Rafael still hadn’t made a move to seduce her, and she’d been so afraid he’d rebuff her that she’d not attempted any seduction.

  It was those little things that needled her more and more, making her feel as if she were just another of his possessions. As if all she’d said to him that day was for naught.

  She almost looked forward to the hours he was called in to his office in Rio on urgent business, an event that was occurring much more often.

  Leila knew that before long Rafael would be consumed with his company again, that she’d be alone here in this beautiful hacienda, growing fat with her babies and more uncertain of what the future would hold for her career, and her marriage. And with her state of mind, for as her body began to distort, she found herself growing more and more restless.

  One month after her return to Brazil, Rafael excused himself to attend to business after lunch, leaving her to enjoy the serenity of the beautifully tended garden alone. But this time one hour turned into three.

  While she knew that he was indeed worried about a glitch in his new hardware that his techs had yet to perfect, a tiny voice in her head used this solitude to feed her deepest fears.

  He had to have noticed the drastic changes in her body just this week. Breasts that were fuller, the nipples supersensitized to his lightest touch.

  The baby bump had altered her perfectly toned body into something she’d never dreamed she’d see.

  Her hands slid over the sun-warmed dress covering her belly, the increased roundness a shock that sometimes threatened to erupt into panic. She had to focus on the fact she was pregnant with twins. That the changes were normal and were to be cherished.

  But it was hard to toss off the old neurosis of an eating disorder. If she had something to do besides read or watch the TV.

  Frustrated and far too emotional of late, Leila swung her long tanned legs off the chaise longue and cradled her face in her hands. She’d been able to cope with havi
ng nothing to do as long as Rafael was around. Now that his company was tugging him from her, the isolation was driving her crazy.

  She loosed a perturbed groan and surged to her feet. Perhaps a walk in the garden would expend some of the restless energy building inside her.

  Before she’d taken two steps toward the pebbled path, her mobile rang. She stared at the phone, the sound almost foreign to her ears as her agent hadn’t called since she’d taken a maternity hiatus.

  “Hello,” Leila said in greeting, giddily delighted that she hadn’t been totally forgotten.

  “How are you feeling now?” her agent inquired.

  “Wonderful.” Unless she counted anxious and worried about far too many things that were out of her control. “The morning sickness is a thing of the past,” she added, along with her formerly honed figure.

  “Good! Are you ready to work, then?”

  Leila blinked, not sure she heard her right. “I thought—God, yes!”

  Her agent laughed, and in an instant a good deal of Leila’s anxiety fell away. “First off, how much are you showing?”

  “It’s very obvious I’m pregnant.”

  “Excellent,” her agent said, stunning her. “You’ve been offered a fabulous opportunity. Fit Pregnancy wants you to grace their cover, and I have another publication on the verge of offering for you as well. Interested?”

  She danced around in a circle, literally giddy with relief. “Of course I am! Please, tell me more.”

  Her agent explained the allure of celebrity pregnancies in exacting detail. The first magazine wanted her to grant an interview and they wanted it right now. The second was a small spread for a major designer of maternity wear that likely wouldn’t occur until next month or later.

  “When word got out that you’d taken maternity leave, the offers started coming in,” her agent explained. “These two are the most lucrative and will not be intrusive on your privacy. Both will do wonders at keeping your name out there.”

  Leila wiped the tears of joy from her eyes and laughed, feeling more energized than she had in weeks. “When do I start?”

  “Tomorrow, if possible. I’ll send the contract to you via courier today.”

  “Great! I’ll sign and return them to you immediately.”

  She clutched the phone, eyes pinched shut and smiling like a fool.

  “Good news?” Rafael asked in a tight voice that set off alarms in her head.

  She whirled to face him, wondering how much he’d overheard. His expression gave nothing away, but the deep creases fanning from his dark unreadable eyes didn’t imbue confidence either.

  Considering his earlier stance regarding her career, he’d not see this as good fortune. In fact, he’d likely see it as traitorous since she’d been sure that the shoot in L.A. was the last she’d do until well after she’d given birth.

  “It’s fabulous news,” she said, willing her former assurance to assert itself in the face of the anger sure to come. “I’ve been offered a contract for a leading magazine with another in the offing.”

  “I trust you refused.”

  “I accepted.”

  His handsome features pulled into a fierce expression that made a chill slip down her spine. “I forbid it!”

  She shoved caution aside and hiked her chin up in a show of defiance. “You can’t order me around! This is my career and my decision to make.”

  He crossed to her in an economy of fierce steps and splayed both large hands over her baby mound, his touch far hotter than the winter sun that bore down on them. “These are my children and I’ll not allow you to jeopardize their health so you can feed your own ego and continue working.”

  Heat blazed in her cheeks and burned holes in her indignation. If she thought she was putting her babies in danger, she’d never agree to this. But her doctor had assured her that she was healthy.

  And she was bored. So very bored just sitting here day by day.

  “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “I am being sane,” he said.

  No, he was being a bully. “I wouldn’t put it past you to post guards to ensure that I don’t leave here.”

  “I would if I thought it necessary.”

  She stamped a foot, so angry she could scream.

  “I hate you!”

  He had the audacity to smile, a raptor’s grin that only spiked her temper. “No, you don’t, querida. You are angry and behaving petulantly. Once you calm down you will agree that a woman in your delicate condition should not be flying here and there, working long hours.”

  She curled her fingers into fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. She absolutely abhorred that he expected her to concede defeat, but taking in the rigid set of his broad shoulders clad in a suit jacket clearly tailor-made to his impressive physique, and noting the resolute line of his arrogant jaw, told her that arguing would resolve nothing.

  “Our children’s safety comes first,” he said.

  Her shoulders slumped, for while she felt fine and able to work, he was right about one thing. A flight could be very taxing.

  He cupped her chin, his touch gentle. “Ring your agent and tell her that you won’t be flying to any shoots.”

  “Fine. You win.”

  “Good.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth, lingering longer than usual, tempting her with how good they’d been in bed, how much she ached for his possession. How she longed to feel desirable in his arms again.

  But he’d taken that from them too, and depriving her of that fed her other fear—he no longer found her attractive now she was gaining weight.

  He ended the kiss too soon and stepped back, seeming unruffled when her blood was surging with anger and desire.

  “I must be going.” He lifted his arm to check his wristwatch.

  She froze, really looking at her husband this time.

  The impeccably tailored suit. The dress shoes. That brusque attitude he wore whenever he was about to embark on a business trip.

  “You’re leaving,” she said, annoyed with herself for being too mad at him to notice what he was wearing earlier.

  “I must fly to London today and see to this dispute myself. I shouldn’t be gone more than a few days.” One shoulder hiked in a careless shrug, a charming gesture she was sure he was unaware he even did. “A week at the most.”

  He must have reached this decision this morning. It was clear that he’d never intended for her to accompany him, even if it was only to the penthouse in Rio so she would have a change of scenery.

  No, he was making it quite clear that her place was here.

  “Have a safe trip,” she managed to get out, feeling suddenly abandoned. Again he nodded. “You’ll phone your agent?” Her smile was so tight her face ached, the pain nearly as great as the emptiness yawning in her heart. “Of course.”

  She pressed the auto dial and seethed with anger that he wasn’t going to budge until she caved in to his demand. But when her agent answered with a cheery greeting, she swallowed her anger and got right to the point.

  “My husband and I have decided that it’s too risky for me to leave Brazil right now and endure a day’s session,” she said.

  “Are you joking?” her agent quipped and not pleasantly.

  “I’m serious. My pregnancy is high-risk, and I can’t take the chance of flying anywhere,” she said.

  Rafael bent to place a quick kiss on her forehead before he strode away, clearly smug in the belief that all was well now that she wouldn’t leave Brazil.

  Her agent muttered something Leila couldn’t catch. “You make it sound as if he has you under lock and key.”

  “That’s uncomfortably close to the truth.” She was equally sure that he’d instructed his guards to keep her here. “I don’t know. Rafael is very overprotective.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of overbearing, but it comes out the same,” her agent said. “So that’s it. You’re passing up this gem?”

  Leila closed her eyes, thinking about wh
at she was agreeing to, carefully examining the idea that just popped into her head. Dare she?

  “No,” Leila said at last when the purr of Rafael’s car faded in the distance. “There is a way around this.”

  She bit her lip and stared at her beautiful prison. The one thing that she and Rafael had always guarded closely was their privacy. It was what had allowed them to live in relative peace so many years.

  If she acted on the impulse pounding inside her, she would invite the world into their home. She would infuriate Rafael!

  But then, she thought with renewed ire, she was just as furious with him for his autocratic ways. He had brought this on himself, she thought.

  She was bored out of her mind. Edgy. And growing more afraid of a relapse as her weight increased and Rafael absented himself from their life.

  “Just because I must stay here doesn’t mean we can’t hold the shoot at my house,” she said.

  “Hmm, interesting idea. But won’t your husband stop you?”

  “He just left for London and won’t return for days, possibly a week,” she said. “How soon can the crew get here?”

  “We can move fast. I’ll contact them now and call you with their answer.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  RAFAEL stalked from his plane, his mood as gray as the winter clouds scudding over the São Paulo airport. This trip to London had taxed his patience to the extreme.

  The glitch in production should have been dealt with swiftly from that end, yet the board had insisted that he be there to handle the implementation. After a rough start all had gone smoothly. The new software would be ready for its release date.

  Now that problem had been sorted, he could return to Brazil. To Leila and the babies nestled in her womb.

  Not a moment went by when he hadn’t thought of her. Being away from his wife made him realize how very much he missed her. He’d accused her of believing her career defined her. Laughable in light of this recent business trip. He was just as guilty of the thinking the same thing.

  He’d gone from computer whiz kid to techno wizard developer. He had built his company alone, had been in control of it from day one. But it had taken this latest screwup in London and a recanting of his last standoff with Leila to make him realize that it was time to delegate more duties and hand over the reins to someone else.

 

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