Читать книгу Pregnant By The Ceo: Sensible Housekeeper, Scandalously Pregnant / She's Having the Boss's Baby / The Baby Who Saved Dr Cynical - Jennie Lucas, Connie Cox - Страница 14

Sixteen months later

THE bakery had been busy all day amid the hubbub of the early spring season in Key West. Outside, the sun was warm, glimmering off the turquoise sea and a cruise ship docked nearby. It was only early afternoon, but Louisa guessed that she’d already served nearly every tourist on that ship. As she worked the counter, she glanced at the ship briefly through the storefront window that proclaimed Grey’s Bakery.

Then, as the family of six left with their arms full of doughnuts and cookies, Louisa turned with an apologetic smile to the last customer. “Good afternoon. I’m so sorry for the wait—”

Then she finally got a good look at the man who’d been behind the throng of tourists. She sucked in her breath. The tongs she’d been holding dropped to the floor with a clang.

Rafael looked down at her, smiling with his dark eyes.

“Hello, Louisa,” he said. “How are you?”

She stared at him in shock, unable to speak.

It had been almost a year and a half since she’d left him in Istanbul, this selfish, coldhearted man who hadn’t wanted either a wife or a child. He looked at her now with the exact same gray shade of eyes as her baby son, who was now almost eight months old. The baby who was right now sleeping in the tiny office behind the counter. The baby he didn’t know about.

Involuntarily she moved a little to the right, blocking his view of the office door. What was Rafael doing in Florida? Had he somehow found out about Noah?

“What are you doing here?” she choked out.

“You don’t look pleased to see me.” He rubbed the back of his dark hair and glanced up at her with a sheepish half smile. “I guess you’re not the one who sent the letter. I hoped you were.”

“Letter?” She hid her shock by leaning down behind the counter to pick up the tongs from the tile floor. She turned and dropped them into a sinkful of soapy water. Bracing her hands against the sink, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Not exactly a letter,” he clarified. “It was a flyer advertising your bakery. Someone sent it to my office in Paris.”

A chill went through her. She knew just who’d sent it. Damn Katie!

Fear pierced her heart.

Don’t be afraid, she told herself desperately. Why should Rafael Cruz frighten her? She was no longer his employee. No longer his lover. This was her bakery, hers and her sister’s, and if Louisa chose, she would throw him out onto the street!

He had no power over her, she told herself. None whatsoever.

But she knew that was a lie. She thought of her baby in the darkened room behind her. If he knew about Noah…

Could he possibly know?

Sucking in her breath, she turned to face him. Her eyes searched his face.

Then she exhaled. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. If he’d known, he wouldn’t be looking at her with an expression that was so open and friendly and warm. He would have come in here with all guns blazing.

“What do you want, Rafael?” she bit out. She would never call him Mr. Cruz, ever again.

“I’ve missed those caramel brownies of yours,” he said. “I’ll pay for them, of course.”

She heard the echo of his long-ago words. I would make you pay…and pay…and pay. She lifted her chin. “I thought I made it clear that I never wished to see you again.”

“You did,” he admitted. “But when I got that letter, I realized that I wanted to see you.” He smiled at her. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

The smile he gave her would have melted the heart of any woman.

But not hers. Never again. She glared at him, then turned with an elaborate smile to help a new customer who’d just come in her store. He waited with unusual patience as she served the other customer. After the tinkle of the bell as the customer went back onto the boardwalk with a bagful of doughnuts, Louisa finally turned to him coldly.

“I have nothing to say to you. Please leave.”

“I had to find you, Louisa. To tell you,” he said, “to tell you I’m…sorry.”

She stared at him.

He was sorry.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” she said coldly. “I’m glad you forced me to quit. My life now is exactly what it should be.” After she’d fled Istanbul, she’d returned to Miami, where she’d been stunned to discover Katie was a widow, living in a mobile home and barely able to support her five-year-old daughter. They’d hugged and cried in each others’ arms. Now, they were sisters again. They were a family. Louisa lifted her chin. “You did me a favor.”

He looked at her ruefully. “I did?”

Louisa nodded coldly. She’d used her savings to start this bakery on Key West, a place she’d visited long ago. This bakery wasn’t just a family business, it was a labor of love. Even her little niece, who was now in first grade, helped out. The two sisters worked here during the day, and lived upstairs with their children in a small apartment above the bakery.

She had the perfect life now. She had her family, a successful business she loved and friends on this island. And if she still sometimes dreamed of Rafael, hot dreams of longing in the night—well, what of that? She didn’t want him. She was better off without him!

Rafael looked at her. His eyes were as deep and dark as the Caribbean at midnight. He shook his head. “Ever since you left Istanbul, I’ve regretted my behavior that day. I never should have let my suspicions get the better of me.”

“Forget it,” she said shortly.

“I cannot.” He looked at her regretfully, then with a sigh, he clawed back his dark hair. “I accused you of trying to get pregnant with my child. You! Of all women on earth, I should have known you would not do such a thing!”

She surreptitiously glanced back at the room where their baby was sleeping. She heard the soft snuffle of Noah’s heavy breath. He would be hungry and waking soon. Katie had gone to pick up her daughter from school, but any moment now she’d be back to take her turn working the counter.

Her interfering, well-meaning sister would no doubt be thrilled to see Rafael. Curse her.

“Forgive me,” Rafael said humbly, bowing his head. “I am sorry for how badly I treated you.”

She heard her baby shift in his playpen, heard his snuffle as he started to wake up.

“I forgive you,” she said abruptly.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” She had to get Rafael out of her bakery—fast. She moved behind the counter, using fresh tongs to pick up some of her caramel brownies, the most popular item at the bakery, and put them in a white bag. “Here,” she said. “Take these as a peace offering. On the house.”

“Thank you.” He took the bag, but he did not leave as she’d hoped. Instead he hesitated, propping the bag on the side counter as he slowly looked around the shop. “It’s a beautiful store.”

“Thanks,” she said unwillingly.

“How did you end up here? At this remote island?”

Not remote enough, she thought, looking at him. “My sister was still living in Miami with her daughter. Her husband had died the year before.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I just heard about that.”

“Right.” Matthias Spence, the handsome, wealthy older man the Grey sisters had once fought over, had died of a heart attack shortly after the government had seized his remaining fortune for milking his investors in a money-making scheme. “But we’re all doing fine now.”

“Really?” he said softly.

“Yes,” she ground out. Except she was going to kill Katie for sending Rafael the flyer. Her sister had been pestering her for the last year to tell Rafael about Noah. Louisa folded her arms. How could Katie have gone behind her back like this?

“I’m glad you’re doing well,” Rafael said in a low voice. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Yes.” But her success came at a price. Between caring for the baby and the bakery, Louisa only slept six hours a night at most. She was so tired. So, so tired. And Rafael looked more devilishly handsome than ever, well-rested and well-groomed in his black button-down shirt and slim-fitting jeans. “We work hard,” she said. “Matthias left nothing to my sister. The bakery needs constant attention, as do the children.”

“Children?” he asked.

Louisa bit her tongue, furious at her mistake. But before she could come up with an explanation, the bell chimed at the door.

“Sorry I’m late.” Her sister came in with her niece, who was carrying a backpack and several large sheets of artwork. “The line at the school was so long. It seems all the parents wanted to pick up their kids today…Oh.” She stopped, staring at Rafael. “Hello.”

Louisa glared at her. “Look who dropped by for a visit. My old boss.”

Katie had the audacity to smile and hold out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cruz.”

“Call me Rafael.”

“Rafael.”

Behind them, Louisa simmered with fury. Then she jumped when she heard her baby give a soft mewling whimper from behind the office door. She glanced at Rafael, but by some miracle, he hadn’t heard it. Yet.

“I think I’ll give him a quick tour around the island,” Louisa interrupted abruptly. She looked at Rafael. “Would you like that?”

He looked startled, but instantly said, “Yes.”

Louisa untied her apron. “Take over the counter for me, Katie. Feed the little one with what I left in the fridge.” She gave her sister a hard look. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Looking abashed, her sister nodded. Katie would make sure to feed Noah some of the milk she’d left in the fridge.

Hanging her apron up on a hook, Louisa came around the counter. Kicking off her sturdy shoes and shoving her feet into flip-flops, she pulled out her bun and shook out her hair, letting it tumble down her bare shoulders over her tank top. “Have you seen Key West?”

“No,” he said, looking at her shoulders and hair. His gaze lifted slowly from her chest to her neck to her lips to her eyes. “When my plane landed, I came straight here.”

“You’re in for a treat,” she said grimly. “Come with me.”

Rafael couldn’t stop looking at her.

Louisa had changed so much in sixteen months, he thought. How much had changed? Her hair? Her face? Her clothes? Yes, but it was more than that.

For the last year and a half, when he’d dreamed of Louisa, he’d pictured her either naked or in a gray shapeless skirt suit, wearing black glasses over her pale skin with her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun.

This new Louisa looked nothing like the tight, prim, aloof housekeeper he remembered.

Now, her face was tanned, bringing out the natural beauty of her bare face. He could see the intense color of her eyes in the sun. Her lips were deep pink. Her hair no longer was pulled back into the tight bun, but now fell down her shoulders, highlighted by the sun into the color of dark honey. She’d put on a few pounds in all the right places. His eyes traced the shape of her body beneath the aqua-colored tank top and madras shorts. What was different?

Color, he realized. She was in color.

She’d been beautiful as his employee, but had always been in the background, almost invisible, the capable Miss Grey in her black-framed glasses, sensible shoes and gray suit.

Here in this little town, on the edge of the turquoise Caribbean Sea, Louisa was vibrant with her youth and energy. She shone with color and life.

As they walked toward the beach, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He hadn’t come just to ask for forgiveness. He’d come to offer Louisa her old job back. He’d missed her. His houses were all disorganized, half in shambles since she’d left. He’d intended to quadruple her salary, to give her two months of vacation a year, to invite her family to come along—whatever it took to lure her. He needed her. Not just as his housekeeper, but as his mistress. As his lover and friend.

The flyer in the mail had been the sign he needed. He’d given her over a year to cool off. He’d come to Florida, confident he could convince her.

But from the moment he’d walked into the charming, busy bakery, he’d started to have doubts. As they went down the street, everyone they passed seemed to know her. Young mothers pushing baby strollers, gray-haired retired couples holding hands, children, teenagers—they all greeted her with enthusiasm. Including—Rafael growled beneath his breath—some men. Young men in their twenties, carrying surfboards and scuba gear. Older men with expensive wristwatches and expensive cars. Young or old, every time one of them smiled at Louisa, his eyes lingering on her face and body, Rafael had to restrain himself from punching a stranger.

As he and Louisa walked by Mallory Square, Rafael set his jaw. He’d been so arrogant, so sure he could get his way on the journey from Paris. But now, he looked down at her from the corner of his eye. What did he have to offer that would compete with the vibrant life she’d created here for herself?

She had her own business, a life with her sister and her niece, friends of her own. And for all he knew, she had a lover. Or worse: more than one…

“Key West,” she began, “is the southernmost settlement in the continental United States…” She continued to describe the island like a tour guide, but Rafael barely understood the words. He heard only the lovely sound of her beautiful voice. Only saw the movement of her lush pink lips. He couldn’t look away from her as they walked down the sidewalk, then crossed the busy street.

“Are you hungry?” she asked suddenly.

He’d been openly staring at her, he realized. He forced himself to look away, to not look at her gorgeous face, her high cheekbones tanned by the sun. To not look at her sensual mouth, or the full shape of her breasts in her clingy blue tank top. To not notice how tiny her waist looked, barely the span of both his hands, above the wide sway of her hips and her impossibly long, tanned legs.

“Well?”

He swallowed, forcing himself to meet her eyes and only her eyes.

“I’m starving,” he muttered.

“Come on, then,” she said, giving him a brief, impersonal smile. “We can’t let you leave on an empty stomach.”

He followed her to a nearby food stand near Mallory Square. After placing her order, Louisa turned and thrust a piping hot fried pastry, wrapped in a napkin, into his hands.

“What’s this?” he said, staring down at it.

“It’s a conch fritter,” she said, taking a bite of it. “Try it.”

He tried not to watch the way her mouth moved as she chewed the greasy fried pastry. She licked a spot of grease from her lips, and he nearly shuddered.

Then he realized she was waiting expectantly. He reached for his wallet.

“No. My treat,” she said brightly, stopping him. “You came all the way from Paris. It’s the least I can do to feed you before you leave.”

It was the second time she’d made the not-so-gentle hint about him leaving. But could he blame her, after the way he’d treated her? “Right.” He cleared his throat. “Shall we go sit down?”

She shook her head. “I’d rather just walk as we eat.”

“It’s crowded.” He felt the stares of passing tourists, and other people, locals who greeted Louisa by name with big smiles. Some of them were men. It irritated him to no end. He glanced at the wide vista of the beach. “How about we walk by the beach?”

“By the boardwalk? Sure. There’s a path. Come on.”

They walked in silence, the only sound the soft crunching of sand beneath their feet as they crossed the path. He felt the hot wind blow against his skin.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He’d missed her. Dreamed about her. And now, seeing her like this, wearing almost nothing over her curvaceous body…

He wanted her.

So much he shook with it.

She ate with gusto, swiftly finishing her fritter. Lifting her eyebrows, she looked at his own fritter. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet.

“Don’t you like it?” she asked, her eyes glinting at him in the sunshine. She was daring him to say no. Taunting him to admit he only liked fancy gourmet food, the kind she’d prepared for him while she was his housekeeper in Paris.

She didn’t know about all the years he’d barely existed in New York, where he’d started his commodities trading firm while still in college. He’d poured all his money into investments, barely surviving on the cheapest food he could get.

But he hadn’t had to live that way for long. Success had come easily for him. He’d found that all it took to do well in the world was charm and confidence, and never, ever admitting when he had no clue what he was doing.

And the same was true of love affairs. No matter what women said, they did not want a man who was vulnerable. Kindness? They saw it as weakness. Whatever they said, women were attracted to one thing only: power.

Looking straight into her eyes, he took a bite of the conch fritter.

“It’s good,” he said. He took another bite, though he barely tasted the food. How could he explain that he had no appetite? He wanted only one thing.

He wanted Louisa in his bed.

“I’m sure it’s not what you’re used to,” she said mockingly. “It’s not exactly caviar and steak tartare.”

He stuffed the rest of the fritter in his mouth, not tasting it at all. He put the napkin in his coat pocket. He stopped halfway across the beach and looked at her.

Wind swirled her dark honey-colored hair around her face. Behind her, he could see the green leafy palm trees and brilliant bougainvillea. But the pink of the flowers was nothing compared to the roses in her cheeks, to the deep red of her lips.

He reached out to push back the dark blond tendrils of hair from her face. His fingertips brushed her warm skin. Touching her burned his fingertips.

She looked up at him, so close beneath the bright Florida sun, and he noticed for the first time that the eyes he’d always believed to be a regular brown were actually hazel, gleaming with a thousand tiny slivers of green and blue and brown like an explosion of light and color.

He took a deep breath.

“Come back to me, Louisa,” he whispered.

She sucked in her breath, staring at him.

“I miss you.” Reaching down, he took both of her hands in his own. Her fingers were slender and gentle and warm. He looked down at her intently. “I want you.”

Their eyes locked. “You do?” she whispered. “Why?”

He couldn’t tell her the full truth. Couldn’t tell her how much he needed her. Right here. Right now. Being weak would never win him what he wanted; so he told her half the truth.

“My homes are in shambles,” he said honestly. “The various housekeepers do their best, but no one organizes things like you. No one oversees things. I need a firm hand, I need your intelligent command. I need you.”

She stared at him. Then she looked away, blinking fast. “You want me to work for you,” she said dully. “That’s what you need from me. You want me to be your housekeeper again.”

“Yes.” He paused. “I will quadruple your pay. Give you all the vacation time you need. Whatever you want.”

Her lips curved. “You are generous,” she whispered, but her tone was bitter. Then she turned to face him, her eyes suspiciously bright. “But I’m afraid I have no interest in being your housekeeper ever again.”

Rafael clenched his hands into fists. From the moment he’d seen her in the bright bakery, looking so vibrant and happy as she served customers, it was just what he’d feared she would say.

But he couldn’t accept that—couldn’t!

“I told you I was sorry about what I said to you,” he said quietly, “and I am. I overreacted. Can’t we put it all in the past?”

“It is in the past.” She looked past him to the brightly colored booths across the road, to the single roving chicken squawking as it walked freely on the beach, flapping its wings. In the distance, children were laughing as they flew a kite in the breeze. Turning back to him, she gave a brief smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not leaving Key West. I like it here. With my family…”

“I’ll buy your sister an apartment near us in Paris.”

“No, thank you.”

Why was she being so stubborn? Was it truly because she loved this island so much—or was it because she’d already given her heart to another man? But he wouldn’t think about that possibility, couldn’t allow himself to think about it! He set his jaw. “I could offer you a great deal of money—”

“No!” She whirled on him fiercely. “We are not having a hard time with money. My little bakery is doing just fine, for your information. I don’t want or need your help. I can support my own family. Without you.” She gave him a hard look. “You’ll have to find someone else to sort out your messy life.” Her whole body seemed tight as she turned her back on him. “I need to get back to my bakery now.”

“Louisa, wait!”

But she started walking away, so he had no choice but to hurry after her. His mind was spinning with ways to convince her to come back to him. But he could not think of anything he hadn’t yet offered. They crossed back through the town where everyone seemed to know her, where everyone was glad to see her.

What could Rafael possibly offer her to compete with the life she’d created for herself?

“Here we are,” she said briskly as they reached the door of her gingerbread-style shop beneath the overhanging awning on the wooden sidewalk. She held out her hand. “Goodbye.”

Slowly he took her hand. But when he felt it in his own, he knew he could not let her go. He shook it, then instead of releasing her, pulled her hand closer, pulling her toward his body.

“Come back to me, Louisa,” he said in a low voice. His eyes searched hers. “Not as my employee…but as my mistress.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

“I’ve never tried to be faithful to one woman before,” he said. “But since you left I haven’t been able to forget you. I want to be with you, Louisa. Not as your boss. As your, your…lover.” The word was pulled from him painfully. “I was a fool to let you go. A fool to push you away. You are the one woman who’s never lied to me.” He gave her a crooked smile. “The one woman who defied me when I deserved it, who dared to tell me when I was making an ass of myself. I need you.”

She stared at him. “What are you saying?”

“I can’t offer you marriage. But for as long as we’re together—” he took a deep breath “—I promise I will be faithful to you.”

He heard her intake of breath, felt her tremble in his arms.

Suddenly an explosion of happiness went through him. He knew he had convinced her.

Lowering his mouth to hers, he gave her a long kiss full of passion and tenderness. He held her tightly, kissing her until he felt her surrender, until he felt her sigh in his arms. Until she started to kiss him back.

When he finally pulled away, he was smiling. He’d never been so happy.

“So you’ll come?” he whispered, feeling more sure of himself now. Caressing her face, he smiled down at her. Louisa’s eyelids fluttered open. She blinked in apparent bewilderment as he stroked her cheek and added, “My plane is waiting to take us to Buenos Aires.”

She looked up at him. Then she sucked in her breath.

“No,” she said. “Damn you! No!”

His jaw dropped as he stared at her, unable to believe her answer. He couldn’t even fathom what he was hearing. For his whole adult life, he’d been the legendary elusive playboy. He’d never offered any woman as much as he’d just offered Louisa.

So now to have her actually refuse him!

“Why?” he demanded over the lump in his throat. He thought again of the men they’d passed on the street who’d been so delighted to see her. All those surfer boys looking at her with longing, all those wealthy yacht-owners who’d eyed her with lust. Rafael’s expression hardened. “Is there someone else?”

He heard her intake of breath as her eyes flashed up at him.

“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “There is someone else. I’m sorry.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp, and he had the sudden feeling of the warmth of her slipping away, slipping away forever. “Goodbye,” she whispered.

Turning in a whirl of vibrant color, she pushed open the door into her bakery. He heard the bright tinkle of the bell, and then he was left alone on the wooden boardwalk, beneath a cloudless sky stretching to the brilliant blue sea.