Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: August 2017 Books 5 -8 - Шантель Шоу, Jennie Lucas - Страница 16
ОглавлениеCORTEZ GAVE UP trying to concentrate on a financial report for Saunderson’s Bank after he’d read it three times and still had no idea what it said. Business had been his life since he’d graduated from university with a first class degree and a determination to succeed. His new role as chairman of the prestigious private bank was more proof that he had come a long way from picking grapes at his mother’s small vineyard in Jerez. But waiting to learn if he was the father of Elin’s child dominated his thoughts and he drummed his fingertips on the coffee table and glanced at his watch for the hundredth time.
When his phone rang and he recognised the number of the paternity test clinic on the screen he took a deep breath before he answered the call. Moments later he ran an unsteady hand across his face.
Santa Madre! He had a son.
Conflicting emotions stormed through him. A fierce joy and pride in his beautiful son, but anger when he thought of the child’s mother. Elin had lied about Harry’s date of birth and Cortez was furious, knowing that if he had not insisted on a DNA test she might have disappeared with the baby and he would never have known he was a father.
He lurched to his feet. He felt drunk although he had not had a drop of alcohol. He was in shock, he realised. When he’d seen Harry’s black hair and dark eyes he had wondered if the baby could be his. But he was unprepared for the overwhelming emotions that poured through him. Driven by a need to see his child, he strode out of the room and quickly climbed the stairs. He heard Harry crying and a feeling he could not begin to describe welled inside him, a fundamental desire to protect his son.
Following the sound of Harry’s cries, he located the nursery and was surprised that Elin was not already there to comfort the baby. He stood next to the cot and felt as if his heart was being squeezed in a vice as he stared down at the screaming, red-faced infant. It was incredible that a small baby could make such a loud noise. Yet still Harry’s mother did not appear.
Cortez opened a door to an adjoining room and recognised he was in the bedroom where he had spent the night with Elin just over a year ago. Memories assailed him of her wearing a scarlet silk dress and not a lot else besides, he’d soon discovered. Their passion had been electrifying and she had been with him every step of the way. He did not know what to make of her assertion that she’d had sex with him that night because her drink had been spiked with a date-rape drug. The sexual chemistry that had ignited between them when he had kissed her earlier today had been undeniable.
The room was dimly lit by the bedside lamp. He switched on the overhead light and frowned when he saw the top of her blonde head poking above the duvet. ‘Elin?’ She did not answer, and when Cortez pulled back the covers her eyes flickered open and she stared at him vacantly. Her skin was pale and beaded with sweat. ‘Your baby needs you,’ he told her. She muttered something incomprehensible and huddled beneath the duvet. Cortez’s concern for his son was paramount. ‘Does Harry want to be fed?’ His jaw tightened. ‘For pity’s sake, you can’t leave him to cry.’
She either did not hear what he said or did not care, and she closed her eyes again. Cortez frowned as he remembered the recent speculation by the media that Elin used recreational drugs. There had been a photo in some of the tabloids of her being carried out of a nightclub in a semi-conscious state. Had she taken an illegal substance this afternoon which had rendered her unable to care for her baby? His baby.
He returned to the nursery and hesitated. His heart was pounding and for the only time in his life he felt terrified. He had never held a small baby before, and Harry looked so breakable. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the cot and picked Harry up. The baby’s cries immediately subsided to little whimpers that tore on Cortez’s heart.
‘Hey, little man,’ he murmured as he held the baby against his shoulder. Harry stared at him with big, dark eyes fringed with long black lashes. He was more beautiful than anything Cortez had ever seen. The baby’s Cupid’s bow mouth curved into a smile and Cortez felt a constriction in his throat. ‘My son,’ he said thickly, wonderingly. He was Harry’s father and he would never abandon his child like his own father had abandoned him. He was instantly smitten with his baby boy, and his heart felt as if it had swelled to twice its size and was filled to overflowing with love for his child. ‘I would give my life to protect you,’ he whispered to Harry.
He heard a noise and looked round, expecting to see Elin, but it was the nanny standing in the doorway. ‘Ah, Miss Lennox.’
‘I would have been back from my daughter’s earlier, but there was a delay on the Tube,’ she explained.
Cortez looked down at the baby he was cradling so carefully in his arms. ‘I am Harry’s father.’
‘Oh, I guessed that,’ she said cheerfully. ‘He has inherited your colouring rather than his mother’s.’
‘Elin is asleep and didn’t hear the baby crying. She seems...spaced out,’ he said tersely.
The nanny nodded and seemed unsurprised. ‘She has these episodes quite frequently. Hopefully, she’ll be back to herself in a day or two.’
Cortez instinctively held Harry a little tighter. The nanny’s words seemed to confirm the suggestion in the tabloids that Elin was a drug user and he resolved to protect his son from his mother, who was obviously unfit to take care of a child. One of the first things he intended to do was arrange for his name to be added to Harry’s English birth certificate under the section for father’s details. Even more importantly, he wanted to register his son’s birth in Spain, which would be Harry’s country of residence from now on. But, to do so, he would need Elin’s agreement.
He handed Harry over to the nanny so that she could change his nappy. The procedure was one of many things he would have to learn how to do, Cortez mused.
‘Miss Lennox...’ he smiled at the nanny and turned on the full force of his charm ‘...may I call you Barbara? You guessed that I am Harry’s father and you might also have realised when you saw Elin and I together at Cuckmere Hall that we are reunited.’
The nanny looked embarrassed by his reminder of when she had caught him and Elin kissing. ‘I’m very glad for the two of you,’ she murmured, ‘and for Harry to have both his parents.’
Cortez did not disabuse Barbara of the idea that he and Elin were going to play happy families. ‘We have decided to take our son to Spain, and before we left Cuckmere Hall Elin gave me her and Harry’s passports.’ It was not a lie, more an elaboration of the truth, he assured his conscience.
‘Certain reasons make it necessary for me to return to Spain earlier than I’d planned,’ he told the nanny. ‘In fact, I need to leave tonight to deal with an urgent business matter. As I am sure you will appreciate, I am reluctant to leave my son and Elin behind in England, especially when we have just got back together.’ He shamelessly pushed the idea that their relationship was the romance of the year.
‘I know it is short notice,’ he continued, giving Barbara another dazzling smile. ‘Would you be prepared to accompany us to Spain on my private jet? Elin will be able to rest during the flight, and I’ll need you to take charge of Harry because I am a new and inexperienced father.’ He thought of a possible problem. ‘You will need your passport.’
‘As a matter of fact I always carry it with me. Of course I’ll be happy to help in any way that I can,’ Barbara told him. ‘Elin came up to London only last week to shop for clothes to take on a holiday she’d booked to Greece. Would you like me to pack some things for her and Harry, Mr Ramos?’
‘Thank you. And Barbara, please call me Cortez, as all my friends do,’ he murmured. The nanny could be a useful ally in his bid to win custody of his son, he decided. He was a master strategist and he knew the benefits of making a friend in the enemy’s camp.
* * *
‘Harry.’ Elin sat bolt upright and took a shuddering breath when she realised she’d been having a nightmare. In her dream she had been running down a long corridor and at the end of it was Harry’s pram. But when she finally reached the pram and looked inside, it was empty and she had no idea where her son was.
She looked around her bedroom still with a sense of shock. Yesterday, or was it the day before?—she’d lost track of time—her fever had abated and her head no longer felt as if someone was boring into her skull with a pneumatic drill. But her relief had turned to astonishment when she’d found herself in unfamiliar surroundings and Barbara had told her that they were in Cortez’s home in Andalucía.
The nanny had explained that Cortez had arranged for them to fly to Spain on his private jet. He had carried Elin into the plane’s bedroom and she had been in a deep sleep for the entire journey. A car had collected them from the airport at Jerez and brought them to his mansion, La Casa Jazmín.
‘Cortez had to return to Spain urgently, but he did not want to be separated from you and Harry,’ Barbara had told Elin. ‘I think it is so romantic that the two of you have got back together. Cortez is devoted to his son. He insists on giving Harry his bottle and he has learned how to change nappies.’
Elin had masked her anger because she did not want Barbara to feel guilty that she had been tricked by Cortez into helping him in effect kidnap her and Harry. She hadn’t yet seen him to demand an explanation. Barbara said he had visited her room a few times, but on each occasion she had been feverish and she hadn’t recognised him.
Worry gnawed in the pit of Elin’s stomach as she slid out of bed and went into an adjoining room which Barbara had explained had formerly been a dressing room. Cortez had instructed his staff to transform it into a nursery. Apparently no expense had been spared to equip the nursery and Harry slept in a magnificent hand-carved cot. She walked past the latest addition to the nursery, an enormous wooden rocking horse, and hurried over to the cot.
Her heart missed a beat when she found it empty. For a few seconds she was back in her nightmare, searching desperately for her baby who had disappeared. She spun round at the sound of footsteps and stared frantically at the nanny, who walked into the room carrying a pile of baby clothes. ‘Where’s Harry?’
‘Cortez took him downstairs.’ Barbara seemed unaware of Elin’s tension. ‘He keeps the pram in his study so that he can be near to Harry while he is working.’ She looked closely at Elin. ‘I told Cortez that you were feeling much better this morning and he asked me to give you a message that he wants you to meet him in his study at eleven o’clock.’
Elin was desperate to immediately go and find her son. She had been ill for a week but it felt like a lifetime since she had held Harry in her arms and smelled his delicious baby scent. But she acknowledged that she could not walk around Cortez’s house wearing her nightdress. When she met him in an hour from now she was determined to appear calm and in control, even though her insides were churning as she wondered what, if any, input he intended to have in his son’s life now he must have proof from the paternity test clinic that he was Harry’s father.
Although she was feeling better, the effort of showering and getting dressed sapped her energy. She was grateful to Barbara for packing some clothes for her before they’d left London. It was unfortunate that the new outfits she’d bought to take to Rhodes for Virginia’s wedding were designed to be worn at beach or pool parties, and the short skirts and skimpy tops were more daring than she usually wore.
She chose a pale blue chiffon dress that did at least have sleeves, but when she checked her appearance in the mirror she was dismayed that the floaty skirt was almost see-through. There was no time to change her outfit when a maid came to her room to escort her to Cortez’s study, but Elin reminded herself that he would not be interested in how she looked. He’d had sex with her once and had disappeared immediately afterwards. She was just another notch on his bedpost.
As she followed the maid downstairs she could not help but admire the design and décor of the house. The white marble floors and neutral-coloured walls could have made the rooms feel cold, but patterned rugs and brightly coloured cushions and artwork lent interest and a homely feel to the elegant villa. She walked into the study and her eyes were immediately drawn to the large and very regal-looking pram. With a low cry she sped across the room. Her arms were literally aching to hold her baby.
‘Harry has just dropped off to sleep and it would be best if you did not disturb him.’
Cortez’s peremptory voice made her halt, and she turned her head to see him leaning against his desk. He was wearing a superbly tailored grey suit, a crisp white shirt and dark grey tie and the formality of his clothes made Elin conscious of her insubstantial summer dress. She lifted her eyes up to his face and felt her heart crash against her ribs as she absorbed the perfection of his sculpted features. His lips were curved in a cynical expression but nothing could detract from the sensual impact of his mouth, and she hated herself for the quiver that ran through her.
Anger was her only defence against her awareness of him. ‘You had no right to abduct me and my son. It’s outrageous that you brought us to Spain without my agreement,’ she said heatedly.
‘You were not in a fit state to agree or disagree to coming here,’ he responded coolly. ‘And you are forgetting that Harry is my son too.’
Elin cast a yearning look at her baby sleeping peacefully in the pram before she marched over to the desk, determined to show that she was not intimidated by Cortez. ‘I have never forgotten that Harry was conceived as a result of the most shameful night of my life.’
Her attention had been riveted on Cortez, but she was suddenly aware that there was someone else in the room and a frisson of unease ran down her spine as she saw an older man with grey hair and a stern face standing by the window.
‘This is Señor Fernandez,’ Cortez introduced the man. ‘He is a lawyer specialising in family law, particularly in cases when there is a dispute between parents over custody of a child.’
Custody! Elin’s legs almost gave way but she fought against the dizzy sensation that swept over her, determined she wouldn’t faint. ‘There is no dispute.’ She was pleased she sounded forceful rather than scared. ‘I am going to take Harry back home to England as soon as possible. I’ve already told you that I don’t intend to ask you for financial help towards the cost of his upbringing.’
‘Harry does not have a home with you in England. If you think I would allow you to take him to live in a partly derelict cottage which, under the terms of Ralph Saunderson’s will, is your only asset, think again,’ Cortez said in a hard tone.
‘You can’t keep me a prisoner here.’ Panic gripped her as she remembered that he was in possession of her and Harry’s passports.
‘I prefer the term guest to prisoner,’ he drawled. ‘You can leave whenever you wish.’ His meaning was sickeningly clear; she could leave, but he would not allow her to take her baby. Elin was tempted to grab Harry and run out of the study with him, but her common sense reminded her that she had nowhere to run to.
‘Sit down,’ Cortez ordered.
Tension coiled in her stomach as she sank down onto the chair he pulled out for her. Cortez waited until the lawyer was also seated, before he took his place behind his desk. ‘Señor Fernandez has prepared a document for you to read.’
The chill in his voice sent an ice cube slithering down Elin’s spine. She picked up the piece of paper Cortez pushed across the desk and as she read down the printed page her heart thudded painfully fast in her chest.
‘What the hell is this?’ she said thickly when she had finished reading.
His dark brows lifted. ‘I believe it is self-explanatory. I am offering to give you Cuckmere Hall: the house and entire estate, including the vineyards and winery. The current value of the Cuckmere estate is twenty-five million pounds, and I am prepared to offer you an additional ten million pounds which you could invest and use the interest to pay for the running costs of the house and estate. Alternatively, if you decide to sell Cuckmere for its market value, you will still receive the additional ten million pounds, which will be transferred directly into your bank account.
‘In return,’ he continued smoothly, ‘you will sign sole custody of Harry over to me with a legally binding guarantee that you will not seek to change or reverse this decision at any future date.’ He ignored her sharply indrawn breath. ‘The agreement will take effect immediately when you have signed the document that you have in your hand. My private jet will be available to take you to England, and you will leave here with the deeds of the Cuckmere estate in your possession.’
‘This is a joke, right?’ Elin moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and saw Cortez’s eyes narrow on her mouth. He couldn’t be serious, she assured herself. Obviously he had a warped sense of humour. ‘You can’t really think I would agree to your disgusting offer.’
The lawyer spoke. ‘Señor Ramos’s offer is extremely generous. I am certain that you would not receive any more from a court judgement.’
Cortez leaned back in his chair and gave her a hard stare. ‘Is there something more that you want?’
‘Yes, there is.’ She was proud that her voice sounded calm while inside she was a seething cauldron of emotions ranging from anger through to a deep sense of hurt that was inexplicable. Why should she care that Cortez believed she would sell her son in a deal that would shame the devil? ‘I want you to rot in hell.’
Her control was hanging by a thread. Tears stung her eyes but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Carefully she tore the piece of paper she was holding in half and then tore the two halves into quarters and then eighths, her movements jerky with suppressed violence.
‘There is nothing you could offer me. All the riches in the world would not tempt me for a nanosecond to give my son away. And especially—especially—’ her voice rose, sharp with revulsion ‘—to a man such as you, who treats women like objects, like dirt. If Ralph had not made you his heir you would not have gone to Cuckmere Hall and discovered that you have a son. Harry would have grown up never knowing who his father was.’
She stood up and dragged in a ragged breath. ‘You left after you’d had sex with me because I was nothing, just a means of sexual gratification. You treated me like a whore, but what does that make you? How can you be a good and decent father when you did not even bother to find out if I had conceived your child?’
‘Bastante! Enough.’ Cortez jumped to his feet and glared at her across the desk. He turned his head and spoke in Spanish to the lawyer, who immediately got up and hurried out of the room.
‘How can you have the audacity to question my suitability to be a father when you are patently unsuitable to be Harry’s mother?’ Disgust was stamped on Cortez’s patrician features. ‘If you refuse my offer, which I believe is a fair one, I will seek to be granted custody of my son through legal channels.’
‘No court would take a three-month-old baby away from his mother,’ Elin said vehemently, but her heart was thumping with fear. Cortez was a rich man and could hire the best lawyers, but she had nothing to her name, apart from a rundown cottage that she could not afford to have repaired.
‘A court would not leave a baby with a known drug-user.’ He took no notice when she gasped. ‘Perhaps you are an addict, or maybe you are in control of your drug habit—for now. But the risk of addiction is high and I do not believe any judge would risk leaving Harry in your care. I certainly will not.’
‘I’m not a drug addict.’ Elin heard the hysteria in her voice and fought to bring herself under control, aware that Cortez was likely to suggest she was emotionally unbalanced. But she was astounded by his accusation. ‘I have never taken any kind of substance, legal or illegal, in my life, apart from the one time that my drink was spiked at my birthday party.’
‘I was led to understand from a reliable source that you are a drug-user,’ he said coldly. ‘Stories of your wild lifestyle have often been reported by the press.’
‘Stories is right. Half the things the tabloids print are made up.’
He gave her a cynical look. ‘Are you saying that photographs of you staggering out of nightclubs on numerous occasions when you were clearly either drunk or high were fake?’
‘No, but...’
‘If the reports of your affairs with football stars and other minor celebrities weren’t true, why did you not demand that the newspapers retracted the stories?’
‘I...’ Elin trailed to a halt and bit her lip. She couldn’t admit that she had deliberately played up for the paparazzi to keep the media’s interest away from her brother. Jarek’s addiction to vodka, gambling and women—so many women—made her supposed wild lifestyle seem tame in comparison. If Cortez learned that Jarek had been going off the rails since Lorna Saunderson’s death, he might sack him from Saunderson’s Bank.
‘Presumably you could not threaten to take legal action against the tabloids because the stories they printed about you were true,’ Cortez said grimly. His eyes were chips of obsidian. ‘I have been advised by a child psychologist that Harry is too young to have formed a meaningful bond with you, and he will not be adversely affected by a clean break from you when he is only a few months old.’
‘Of course he has formed a bond with me,’ she choked. ‘I am his mother. For God’s sake, I carried him inside me for nine months, but where were you, his father, then?’ Elin’s anger turned to despair and she struggled to swallow past the lump that had formed in her throat.
‘I was shocked when I realised that my night of shame had resulted in pregnancy,’ she admitted. ‘And terrified that I had to face my pregnancy alone. All the other women at the childbirth classes had their husbands or partners with them, and I pretended that my baby’s father was working abroad because I was too embarrassed to admit I didn’t even know his identity.
‘I never knew my parents,’ she told Cortez huskily. ‘They died when I was a baby and my brother was six, and we were placed in an orphanage. I was luckier than other children in the orphanage because at least I had my brother, who took care of me as well as he was able to. My earliest memories are of feeling fear and confusion. I am Bosnian by birth, and the orphanage was in Sarajevo. When the city was bombed during the Bosnian war, many of the orphanage staff were killed or ran away and abandoned the children.’
She was breathing hard, as if she had run a marathon. ‘I know what it is like to be abandoned. I will never, ever leave my son. Your vile accusations—especially that I use drugs—are untrue. I love Harry more than life and I would never do anything that might harm him or put him at risk.’
From the pram came a faint cry as Harry stirred. Elin shot across the room. Her heart felt as if it would burst with love as she lifted her baby into her arms and pressed tender kisses to his satin-soft cheek. ‘Hello, my angel,’ she murmured and was rewarded with a sleepy smile from her little son that filled her with the sweetest joy.
She turned to find that Cortez had followed her over to the pram and he was standing next to her with a tense expression on his face, as if he feared she might drop Harry, she thought furiously. His next words shocked her more than anything else he had said.
‘When you discovered you were pregnant, why did you decide to go through with it?’
Elin was counting Harry’s eyelashes and only half paying attention to Cortez. ‘What do you mean?’
His breath hissed between his teeth. ‘Did you consider not having your child?’
She jerked her eyes to his face as his meaning sank into her stunned brain and she felt sick. ‘Oh, my God! You think I could have done that? What have I done to deserve your foul accusations? I thought when you suggested I could give away my baby for financial gain that you could not be any more insulting. But I was wrong.’
Something indecipherable glittered in Cortez’s eyes. ‘It was not an unreasonable question. You said you felt scared when you found out you were pregnant and faced being a single mother.’
Elin shook her head. ‘I loved my baby from the minute I knew that a miracle was happening inside me,’ she told him fiercely. ‘At my ultrasound scan when I was told I was expecting a boy, I felt sad that he wouldn’t have a father because I know from my own childhood that a child needs to have security provided ideally by both its parents. A child needs to feel loved. Nothing else is as important.’
She whirled around and walked over to the door with Harry held tightly in her arms. ‘I know something else,’ she said, turning back to stare at Cortez with disgust in her eyes.
He looked...stunned was the only way she could describe the expression on his face. His skin appeared to be drawn tight over his razor-sharp cheekbones. The first time she had seen him at her party a year ago he had reminded her of a wolf, and she should have followed her instincts and fled from him while she’d had the chance, she thought grimly.
‘I know that your wealth does not mean you will be a good father. You can’t buy your son. What Harry needs is a father who will always be there for him, but you weren’t around when I was in Intensive Care after his birth.’ Her voice shook. ‘Thankfully my brother spent hours in the hospital nursery with my son. And of course Harry was looked after by the nurses, but he did not have either of his parents with him, just like I didn’t have my parents when I lived at the orphanage.’
Cortez frowned ‘Why were you in Intensive Care?’
‘I bled heavily soon after giving birth.’ Elin swallowed hard. It was only three and a half months since Harry had been born and the memories of what had happened in the delivery room—when the euphoria of her son’s birth had rapidly turned into a scene from a horror film—were vivid in her mind.
‘The medical term is a postpartum haemorrhage. I was terrified I would bleed to death,’ she admitted. ‘I was rushed into Theatre and given a general anaesthetic, and I don’t remember anything after that. But I was told afterwards that I had emergency surgery and a blood transfusion. If the crash team had not been able to stop the bleeding they would have had to perform a hysterectomy, which you probably know is an operation to remove the womb. But luckily the doctors were able to save my life without ending my chances of one day having another child.’
She looked down at her infant son and blinked away her tears that always welled up whenever she thought of how close Harry had been to being motherless and fatherless. ‘I’m grateful to my brother for saying he would have adopted my baby if I had died. But at the crucial time when Harry needed his father, you weren’t around. So don’t preach to me that I am not a suitable mother, because I fought to stay alive for my son and I will fight to the death to keep him.’
