Her Boss's One-Night Baby (HQR Presents)

by Jennie Lucas

  She gave him a sad smile. “You might be my best friend, but I can’t tell you about my marriage.”

  “I understand.”

  “You do?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve always thought Delacruz was a jerk. You know that. But if Emika and I were having a fight, I wouldn’t want her to run tell some other man about it. I’d want her to talk to me, so we could work through it.”

  “Some things can’t be worked through,” Hana whispered.

  His eyes narrowed. “He’s hurt you—cheated on you?”

  She was aghast. “No!”

  “Then?”

  “He...he just doesn’t want to share his life with me, not really. He doesn’t want to share his heart.”

  “Maybe he’s afraid.” His eyes met hers. “I get it. But love can fix the broken pieces. I’ve learned that better than anyone. Maybe your heart won’t be the same as it was, but—” the corners of his lips lifted “—it can be repaired, and more precious and beautiful for all that.”

  Her throat ached with pain. “Kintsugi.”

  Ren looked thoughtful. “Yes, I suppose you could look at it like that. A broken heart repaired by love.”

  Unable to speak, Hana looked out the large window of the palacio’s grand salon, overlooking the courtyard filled with orange trees. “But if Antonio doesn’t love me...”

  “There are all kinds of love.” He snorted. “Maybe he has the kind of love that made him want to smash my face in back in Tokyo.” He gave a sly grin. “Not that he would have succeeded, mind you...”

  “He’s possessive, yes. He keeps what is his.” She strove to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “But that’s not love.”

  Ren leaned over the coffee table. “Give him a chance, Hana. Tell him how you feel.”

  “I tried, and he...he just left.”

  “So try again.”

  Swallowing, she lifted her gaze. “But what if he really, truly can’t love me?”

  “Then at least you’ll know.” His eyes met hers. “Don’t be like me, suffering for years in silence. Find out the truth. It’s better to know, even if it hurts. It’s the only thing that can set you free from a prison of hope.”

  A prison of hope. Hana shivered, looking down at her cooling tea. What a frightening thought. Even cold, awful freedom had to be better than that.

  Ren looked regretfully at his watch. “I’m so sorry. I have to catch my flight to Tokyo.” He rose to his feet. “You’ll come to our wedding, won’t you?” He gave a nervous laugh. “Assuming Emika says yes.”

  “Of course she’ll say yes.” Rising to her feet in turn, Hana walked him to the door. “And of course I’ll come.”

  Pausing at the doorway, Ren said, “Give him another chance. Men can be fools.” He added cheerfully, “And Delacruz is the biggest fool I’ve ever met.”

  “You two,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  He grinned. “We both love you. In different ways.”

  She returned his smile, then it faded. “He says he doesn’t.”

  Ren sobered. “Maybe he doesn’t. Or maybe he wants to, but he can’t. Because of something he’s gone through. Something he’s lost,” he said quietly. “Something he needs to get over, like I needed to get over you.”

  Hana thought of Antonio’s childhood, the repeated abandonment when he was a boy. She said slowly, “What if he doesn’t want to get over it?”

  His eyes looked troubled. Then he shook his head. “Love can conquer anything. You’ll see.” He grinned. “Even that arrogant Spanish bastard.”

  After he was gone, Hana felt alone in the big, empty room. She paced, her angry footsteps echoing against the walls.

  Love could conquer anything, could it?

  But it hadn’t! It couldn’t!

  Could it?

  She stopped, clenching her hands at her sides as she looked out the big windows at the courtyard. She took a deep breath. After everything he’d gone through, it was no wonder Antonio wouldn’t want to risk loving anyone, ever again.

  If Hana could only find a way to heal him!

  If he’d just been willing to learn why his parents abandoned him on those church steps the day he was born, she thought. Maybe the truth would hurt him—but like Ren had said, wouldn’t knowing be better than always wondering? A wound couldn’t heal until you removed the thing that was making it fester.

  But Antonio had burned the letter. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the doctor’s name. Moreno? Mendoza. From some funny Basque-sounding village. Eche—something.

  “Did your friend leave?” Manuelita called as Hana hurried back down the hallway.

  “Yes.” Going into the study, she grabbed her laptop and sat down at her husband’s desk. Opening it, she started searching online. Hours later, after her shoulders ached with being hunched over the screen, she found it.

  Dr. Mendoza. Of Etxetarri.

  For a moment, she hesitated, knowing Antonio might never forgive her for intruding. But if her husband had no desire to heal his pain, no desire to love or be loved—no desire to even be in the same room with her!—how could they remain married? He’d told her if she ever mentioned love again, their marriage was over!

  With a deep breath, Hana picked up her phone. Her hands shook as she dialed the doctor’s listed number, and listened to it ring.

  And when it was finally answered, Hana learned—everything.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  WHEN ANTONIO GOT the first phone message from his wife, he ignored it.

  And the second, third and fourth.

  For the last three days, he’d been struggling in the boardroom of CrossWorld’s New York office, dealing with his team of lawyers. Lauren, his new executive assistant in the New York office, hadn’t done the prep work as thoroughly as Hana would have. Nor did she have the same charm.

  But no one was as good as Hana. On top of all his wife’s skills with language, logistics and the airline business in general, she’d also worked side by side with Antonio for years, and knew how to manage him almost as well as she could manage the labor union.

  The negotiations hadn’t gone at all well without her. Antonio had been off his game. He didn’t know why. Maybe because he hadn’t slept well alone in the luxury New York hotel suite. The bed felt empty.

  So when he saw, on the third day as he’d come out of yet another fruitless, combative meeting, that Hana had left him yet another message, he’d just gritted his teeth and ignored it. He didn’t need her at his company. He could do very well without her.

  Especially if she was calling to gloat over his failure.

  He glanced at his watch. He was late for a 9:00 p.m. dinner with Horace Lund. He’d think of Hana later.

  I love you. He heard her voice. Remembered the pain in her eyes when he hadn’t responded as she’d hoped he might.

  No. Antonio couldn’t bend. If he did, he was afraid he’d break.

  Over appetizers in the elegant midtown restaurant, after Horace Lund toasted his gratitude for Antonio’s loan, the older man spoke cheerfully about his business’s potential. But by the man’s third bourbon, he became morose. As he ate his fettuccine, he spoke about his recent divorce. By dessert, he was nearly crying over his cannoli.

  “My wife always complained I didn’t spend enough time with her,” the older man choked out. “So last week, she said I should be happy she was divorcing me, because now I can work every single minute without guilt, just as I wanted...” And on and on.

  Antonio, who’d indulged in only one glass of scotch, tried not to roll his eyes as he sipped bitter black coffee for dessert. He despised the man’s tearful regret. If Lund didn’t want this to happen, he never should have let himself love his wife. Why else was Antonio avoiding Hana? Even in spite of the unfortunate impact on his company.

  The negotiations had gone badly
again today, and the head of the employees’ union had asked point-blank for Hana. “She, at least, knows what the employees are up against.” Antonio had responded coldly, “You’re up against me.” And before he knew what was happening, the other man was stomping out of the meeting. Antonio ground his teeth.

  “Now she’s fallen for some yoga instructor,” Lund moaned, as he stuffed cannoli into his mouth. “He doesn’t have a penny but she doesn’t care...”

  Antonio regretted yet again that he’d ever agreed to meet the man for dinner. He coughed, then said tersely, “Pull yourself together. She’s gone. It’s time to move on. You have a company to reorganize.”

  “Yes.” Lund brightened, then his lip began to wobble again. “Patricia helped me start it. It’s not the same without her...”

  Antonio was contemplating the possibility of flinging himself out the Italian restaurant’s large glass window to get away from the man’s whining when he heard his phone ping. Relieved for the distraction, he glanced at it. A message from Hana flashed across the screen.

  I spoke with your mother. I know everything. You should come home.

  Antonio jumped to his feet. His whole body was suddenly shaking. “I have to go,” he said hoarsely, and tossed money on the table before he fled beneath the man’s astonished eyes.

  Getting into his Rolls-Royce waiting outside, Antonio was on the phone before his driver even pulled from the curb, contacting his new secretary. “Cancel tomorrow’s meetings with the union.”

  “What?” Lauren’s young voice was shocked. “Are you—are you sure, sir?”

  He knew the question she’d nearly blurted out was, Are you crazy? A man messed with the union at his peril. But everything that had seemed so important suddenly meant nothing, compared to the acid hissing through his soul, searing everything in its path. “Have the jet waiting for me at Teterboro.”

  By the time his plane touched down in gray, rainy Madrid, it was early afternoon. Far from sleeping on the flight, he’d paced the aisle of his Gulfstream jet, his body so tight, his muscles hurt. As his driver took him to the palacio, through the city’s crowded, lively streets in the autumn drizzle, Antonio looked out the window with a churning feeling in his belly.

  What had Hana learned? The horrible thing that had made him a monster from the day he was born?

  I spoke with your mother. I know everything.

  The driver passed the palacio’s gatehouse and pulled into the courtyard. Antonio was already opening his door before the car stopped. Jumping out, he rushed inside, his heart pounding.

  Empty. The palacio was empty.

  Ice gripped his heart as he walked past dark rooms filled with antiques, past the salon on the main floor, with its big windows. Turning on a light, he went slowly up the sweeping staircase, feeling like he’d aged fifty years. He already knew what he would find: an empty bedroom, with all her clothes gone from their closet. All his attempts to hide his unworthiness from her had failed...

  A light clicked on. He saw Hana sitting in the bedroom’s armchair by the empty fireplace. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well in days, either.

  Seeing her, Antonio felt a rush of joy. Then he was overwhelmed by fury. By betrayal.

  “How could you?” Dropping his briefcase to the bedroom’s tile floor, he ground out, “I made it clear I have no desire to learn about my past. Ever.”

  Hana lifted her chin, her eyes defiant. “I had to.”

  “Why? Do you hate me so much?”

  She stopped, blinked. “No. I love you. That’s why I did this. I’m trying to help you.” Her expression became tender as she said softly, “You need to know the truth.”

  “But I burned that man’s letter—”

  “I remembered his name. I looked him up on the internet and called him.” She paused. “Yesterday, I took the train up to Etxetarri.”

  “Where?”

  “A little fishing village to the north.” She took a deep breath. “I met your mother. In person.”

  “You. What?” Sudden vertigo made him light-headed.

  “Please, just listen. You have to know. It could change everything. As Ren told me when he came here, the truth can set you free—”

  Ren Tanaka? That made Antonio stop cold. All his fear and pain and uncertainty coagulated around this one point. “He was here?”

  “You’re missing the point—”

  “You invited Tanaka to this house?” His eyes narrowed. “Behind my back? While I wasn’t here?”

  “Behind your back? Are you serious?” A hard laugh burst from her lips. “The only reason you weren’t here is because you left me. In the middle of the night. After I told you I loved you.”

  Antonio thought of Lund’s wife and the yoga instructor. “I told you I didn’t want you to be friends with Tanaka anymore.”

  “Yes, you’ve told me a lot of things.” She lifted her steady gaze to his. “Like when you said the company would belong to us equally. When you said we’d share our lives. But from the moment we arrived in Madrid, you’ve been pushing me away. And when I told you I loved you, you left.”

  She saw right through him. His weaknesses. He said coldly, “You keep bringing that up. But one has nothing to do with the other. And don’t change the subject from Tanaka—”

  “Ren came to show me the engagement ring he bought in Paris.” For a split second, ice gripped Antonio’s throat, before she continued, “He’s going to propose to his girlfriend. Emika.”

  He stared at Hana blankly. “Emika?”

  “Emika Ito,” she prompted. “The head of your Tokyo office. Remember?”

  “Of course I remember,” he snapped. He took a deep breath, forcing his shoulders to relax. So Tanaka wasn’t a rival after all. He felt dizzy with relief. “He came all the way to Madrid to tell you that?”

  “Ren came to thank me. He told me it hurt him in April when I told him I’d never love him, but it also set him free,” she said quietly. “When he was forced to give up old dreams, he was able to have new ones.”

  Her voice was strange. He set his jaw. “What are you trying to say?”

  Hana’s eyes met his. “You’re afraid to let me love you. Because you’re afraid to love me.”

  Antonio felt a wrench in his belly, a wild pounding of his heart even worse than when he’d heard about Tanaka’s visit. She knew. This rocked the walls around his heart, the radioactive place he’d spent a lifetime being careful not to go. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “But you don’t have to be afraid. Not anymore.” Rising to her feet, Hana came closer. Her eyes gleamed, her curvy pregnant body swaying as she approached. “I know the reason you were left on those church steps the day you were born.”

  “Stop,” he said helplessly.

  “Your mother’s name is Josune Loiola. Here is her address. Her phone number.” Hana held out a piece of paper. “Please go talk to her.”

  “No!” Ignoring the paper, he shook his head violently. “I don’t want to know!”

  “You have to hurry. There’s not much time left. Your mother’s sick. Dying...”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Only because you don’t know what happened!”

  “I know enough.”

  “You have to forgive her. So you can forgive yourself.”

  “Me?” Antonio looked at her incredulously. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Exactly. But you still can’t move past it. And you must.” Putting her hand on her pregnant belly, she murmured, “We need you.”

  “And this is how you try to help me?” Antonio said wildly. “By going behind my back, betraying me?”

  “It’s not a betrayal.” When he still didn’t move, she set the paper gently down on the side table. Coming forward, she put her hand on his arm. He imagined he saw pity in her eyes. “
If you won’t go see her, just listen. I’ll tell you...”

  Antonio yanked his arm away. “Stop it. Now. Or...”

  “Or what?” As Hana stood apart from him, her lovely face suddenly looked sad. “Or you’ll leave me again?”

  “Yes.”

  He saw the exact moment hope died in her eyes.

  Hana took a deep breath. “Don’t bother.”

  Turning toward the door, she picked up a small overnight bag, the one she’d brought from Tokyo six months before. He frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “To Tokyo,” Hana said. “Ren’s proposing to Emika at a big party tomorrow. If I leave right now, I can be there.” She looked back at him. “With friends who actually want me to be part of their lives.” She looked around the master bedroom where they’d spent so many passionate nights. “I thought this could be my home. But home isn’t a place. It’s people who love you.”

  Antonio stared at her. Outside the wrought-iron balcony, the lowering gray clouds rattled the lead windows with rain.

  The bedroom seemed to whirl in front of his eyes as he looked at his wife holding the bag. Fear twisted through him. Anguish. Anger. He clung to the last emotion, the only one he knew how to deal with.

  “You can’t leave,” he ground out. “You’re my wife. Carrying my child.”

  “And yet you made it clear if I ever spoke about love again, our marriage was over.”

  Antonio narrowed his eyes. “Is this because I changed my mind about giving you half my company?”

  “It hurt when you went back on your promise.” She gave him a wistful smile. “Sharing the company was like sharing you.”

  Antonio’s heart hammered against his ribs.

  “But I was dreaming.” Hana turned away. “I’m going to have my baby in Tokyo. I already booked myself on the evening flight. That, at least, is part of the post-nup I remember.” She gave a smile. “Unlimited flights on CrossWorld Airways for the rest of my life.”

  “You knew this was how tonight would end,” he said slowly.

  “I’ve tried everything I can to help heal you. But if you don’t want to be healed, there’s nothing I can do. Loving you isn’t enough. I can’t love you if you won’t love yourself.”