Why was he so shocked? He knew enough of cruel fathers and their ability to abuse their children’s affections to know Lionel Howard was capable of everything Abigail claimed.
‘Because of me?’
She nodded.
Gabe’s curse was softly voiced but forceful, and it filled the room. ‘Your father threw you out because you didn’t have photos of the Calypso project?’
‘No.’ She shook her head, her skin pale. ‘Not exactly.’
Gabe waited, but his impatience was making it difficult.
‘I mean, he was furious that morning. Furious that I had come back empty-handed. But it was a fury born of desperation, you know? He was desperate, Gabe. My dad isn’t a bad person, he’s just…’
‘Why,’ he interrupted coldly, ‘do you think I want to talk about your father?’
‘You have to understand…’
She was quicksand. He’d let her in and now he was sinking—back into her web of lies, her intriguing fascination. What a fool he’d been to think he could talk to her and not fall down this rabbit hole of desire.
‘No, I don’t. I don’t “have” to do anything where you’re concerned. I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t know why I didn’t have you escorted from the building. But I’m done. This is over.’
‘Wait.’ She licked her lower lip and then lifted her hand to her hair, toying with the ends in an unmistakably nervous gesture. ‘I’m trying to explain.’
‘Explain what?’
‘That night—it wasn’t what you think. I mean, I know I came to you because of Calypso, but from the minute I met you, that was just about you and me, and the way we felt.’
‘And yet you still took photographs. You thought you could have your cake and eat it too? A night with me and the chance to salvage your father’s company thrown into the mix?’
‘No. I didn’t think it through, obviously.’ She pulled a face. ‘I know it’s no excuse and it must sound pathetic to someone like you. It’s just… I’ve always done what he asked of me. It’s hard to rewire that.’
‘He asked you to do something borderline illegal.’
‘I know!’ she growled—a growl born of self-disgust. ‘I wish, again and again, I could undo that night.’ Her cheeks flushed. ‘I mean, not all of it.’
‘Ah,’ he said with dangerous softness. ‘Here we differ. Because if I had my way I would go back in time and never meet you. Never set eyes on you, never kiss you, never ask you to my room. I would undo every little bit of what we shared. I regret everything about knowing you.’
Her mouth dropped open. He’d hurt her. He’d shocked her. Good. He recognised, in the part of his brain that was still working properly, that he liked that. He liked seeing that pain on her face. She deserved it. It was only a hint of how he’d felt when he’d discovered that his lover was actually some kind of corporate spy.
‘And now,’ he said, ‘if you’ll excuse me, I have a date.’
Yes. He’d definitely landed that blow successfully. She physically reeled, spinning away from him in a poor attempt to conceal her reaction.
‘When I told Dad I hadn’t met you, he was angry. Angry because he’d told me exactly where you’d be. Angry because he thought I hadn’t tried hard enough.’
‘Yet you’re an accomplished liar,’ Gabe pointed out. ‘So I’m sure you managed to win him over.’
She didn’t react. Her eyes were glazed over, as though she were in the past. ‘Not really. I mean, he stopped being mad with me, but his business worries grew. He was losing his market share to you; he has been for years—’
‘It’s not his market share. It’s anyone’s for the taking. And the only reason Bright Spark is at the top of the ladder is because we release better products than our competitors.’
‘I know.’ She nodded, almost apologetically. ‘I’m just explaining his mindset.’
‘Whatever his mindset, you are your own person. You made a decision to manipulate me…’
‘I’m talking about after that,’ she said with quiet determination. ‘You know I’ve been trying to contact you.’
He tilted his head. ‘Apologies are fruitless, Abigail. There is no apology you could offer that would inspire my forgiveness. You’re a liar and a cheat.’
She shook her head but didn’t say anything. ‘It was bad at home. I was worried about him, and I didn’t feel well.’
Gabe lifted his brows.
‘When did you not feel well?’
‘A few months after we…after that night. I’d been tired—yet not sleeping.’
‘Guilt will do that to a person. Then again, I don’t know if you’re capable of feeling guilt.’
‘Believe me, I am,’ she promised, the words steady, so that he was at risk of believing her despite everything he knew her to be. ‘I’ve felt a bucketload of it since I met you. Anyway, I went to the doctor and…you can probably guess where I’m going with this.’
‘No,’ he said with a lift of his shoulders. ‘And frankly I’m bored of our conversation.’
‘Right, you have your date,’ she said, the words almost manic.
‘Yes,’ Gabe lied. Well, not strictly a lie. There were any number of women he could call. Just because he hadn’t done so in over a year didn’t mean they wouldn’t jump at the chance for a night with Gabe Arantini. He stared at Abigail for one long moment and then made to walk past her, only she reached out and grabbed his arm. ‘Gabe, stop. You need to let me say this.’
‘Why do you think I owe you anything?’
‘I was pregnant,’ she said, arresting him in his tracks completely. His eyes locked onto hers and in his face was a torrent of emotions. There was anger, disbelief, confusion, fury and, finally, amusement.
‘Nice try, Abigail, but I don’t believe you. You think this is a way to extort money from me? Or ruin me somehow? Is this your father’s idea?’
‘No!’ She was pale and shaking. ‘Gabe, I’m not making this up. I went to the doctor and they ran some tests. I was pregnant. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with.’
His eyes narrowed.
‘I didn’t tell Dad until I was five months along and I started to show. He demanded to know who the father was and when I told him he…’
Gabe could barely keep up, but somehow he answered calmly. ‘Yes?’
‘He kicked me out. He cut me off. I haven’t seen him since.’
Gabe felt as though he’d been punched in the solar plexus. He couldn’t speak.
‘It’s why I need that job. Why I’m working nights. I have a good babysitter who sleeps over, so I can work at night. And in the days I’m with Raf.’
His eyes flew wide. ‘Raf?’
‘Rafael,’ she said with a small, distracted smile. ‘Our son.’
Silence fell, heavy and caustic, in the room. Gabe processed what she’d said, but it simply didn’t make sense.
‘We used protection.’
‘I know.’
‘It’s not possible.’
‘The three-month-old I have at home would beg to differ,’ she said calmly, even when her nerves were jangling.
Gabe nodded, a coldness to his expression. ‘What is this? You want money? Or something else?’
‘I thought you should know,’ she said with hauteur, reminding him of the silver spoon she’d grown up with.
‘You thought I should know that I’m a father. That supposedly the night we were together, you fell pregnant. How convenient!’
‘Not particularly,’ Abby said with a soft laugh.
‘Do you think I am this stupid? That I’ll listen to these lies? I should have followed my first instincts and had you kicked out. What the hell are you playing at?’
‘It’s the truth,’ she said. ‘I have a son. His name is Raf Arantini and he’s the spitting image of his father.’<
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Gabe glared at her. She’d even used his name? Could it be true?
Presumably she hadn’t been on birth control, but he never slept with a woman without protection. And he’d never had any consequences come from his sex life before. So why now? And why this woman?
Because she was a liar. And though he couldn’t see the full picture, he knew with confidence that there was more to this story than she was telling him. It couldn’t be the truth. There was no way on earth he had a baby.
He needed time and space to think, and he sure as hell couldn’t do that with her in the room.
‘Get out of my office, Abigail. And don’t contact me again.’
He walked to the lift and pressed the button; it pinged open almost instantly.
She walked slowly and as she passed him he caught just a hint of her sweet vanilla fragrance. His whole body clenched.
‘You don’t believe me?’ she asked.
‘Do you blame me?’
Tears welled in her eyes but she met his eyes with obvious defiance. ‘It’s the truth.’
‘I don’t think you’d know the truth if it bit you on that perfect little arse of yours.’
CHAPTER THREE
ABIGAIL STARED OUT of the window, unseeing. It was a cold, snowy night, but she hadn’t put the heating on. Raf was bundled up in a fleecy suit and wrapped in blankets, fast asleep, and she was wearing about six layers. She wrapped her hands around her hot chocolate—it was a pale imitation, seeing as she’d taken to making it with water instead of milk, but it was still sweet and warm—desperately necessary after the day she’d had.
She’d gone over her conversation with Gabe all evening—while he was no doubt out at some glamorous restaurant or bar with an equally glamorous woman. He probably wasn’t even giving her a second thought. Why would he be? He’d made it clear he despised her and, more importantly, didn’t believe her. So why would he be thinking about a baby he didn’t believe existed?
She should have shown him a photograph, but Abigail hadn’t been thinking straight. A photograph would have convinced him of his paternity. They were so alike—Raf had Gabe’s dark eyes, his strong determined brow and curling black hair, though the dimples in his cheeks were all Abby’s. She curled up in the armchair by the window and watched as a child dressed as an elf ran past, followed by a happy-looking mum and dad, also wearing elf hats.
Fliers had been up in the street for weeks—tonight was one of the local school’s Christmas concerts—which explained why there’d been a procession of Wise Men and reindeer shuffling around her Brooklyn neighbourhood since she’d returned.
While Abigail hadn’t expected Gabe to be doing cartwheels about the fact he was a father, nor had she expected his reaction—utter disbelief.
For months, she’d tried to find a way to tell him about the baby they’d conceived. First, when she’d been pregnant, and then once Raf had been born. It had never, not for an instant, occurred to her that he wouldn’t believe her. She had run through almost every contingency—but not this one.
The coldness of his expression as she’d stepped into the lift and turned back to face him would always be etched into her mind. He hated her. He’d said as much, and in that moment she knew it to be true.
So, what was she going to do?
She looked around the apartment, empty save for a threadbare chair, a plastic table, a lamp that she’d bought at a thrift shop, and she felt hopelessness well inside her.
Even with her job, she’d barely been making ends meet. Now? She had forty-seven dollars in her bank account, rent was due and her baby needed formula and nappies. Before long, he’d need actual food and bigger clothes, and then what?
She couldn’t keep living like this. Raf deserved so much better.
She finished the hot chocolate and placed the empty cup on the floor at her feet and then curled her legs up beneath her.
Exhaustion was nothing new to Abigail. Pregnancy had been exhausting and she’d been sick almost the whole time. But then Raf had been born and she’d discovered that motherhood was a little like being hit by a truck. She was bone-weary all the time.
Her eyes were heavy and she was so tired that even the thought of getting up, showering and changing for bed seemed too onerous and so she stayed where she was, telling herself she’d just sleep for a moment. Just a little rest. Then she’d go to bed, wake up in the new day and scour the papers for help wanted ads. She’d get a new job. Gabe couldn’t have her fired from every place in the city.
A knock at the door woke her after drifting off. It was persistent and loud—so loud she was certain it would wake Raf if she didn’t act quickly. She scrambled up and moved towards the door, yanking it inwards without taking the precaution of checking who was there—a foolish risk given that the downstairs security door had been busted for weeks.
Still, she had thought it might be the upstairs neighbour, Mrs Hannigan, who seemed to always need something at inconvenient times. Even this though—nearly midnight—was a stretch for her.
Abby hadn’t expected—foolishly, perhaps—to find Gabe Arantini on her doorstep, his handsome face lined with emotions she couldn’t comprehend.
‘Gabe?’ The word was thick with sleepiness. She ran the back of her hand over her eyes in an attempt to wake up, but it only induced a yawn. ‘What are you doing here? How did you find where I live?’
His response was to brush past her and step into her apartment.
‘By all means, come right in,’ she snapped sarcastically. But the tart emotion disappeared almost as soon as it had arrived, swallowed by a sense of self-consciousness for him to be seeing her threadbare apartment.
‘Where is he?’
‘I… He’s sleeping.’
‘Of course he is,’ he said, the same thread of incredulity in his words now as had been there earlier that day.
He still didn’t believe her? How was that possible? She would just show him a photo. Her phone was on the chair. She’d get it and show some pictures to him. Then he’d have no doubt that she was telling the truth. She moved in that direction but his voice stilled her.
‘Stop, Abigail.’
She froze, turning around to face him once more. He was right behind her, his body close to hers, his angular face filling her vision.
‘No more lies.’
‘I’m not lying to you.’
He lifted a finger and pressed it to her lips. ‘I think you don’t even realise you’re doing it,’ he said. ‘I think you’ve lost sight of what’s true and what’s not.’
‘I…’
‘Shh…’ he said again, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t come here to hear more lies…’
‘Then why…?’
His eyes held hers and Abigail grabbed a deep breath because she knew what was coming and she had about two seconds to decide what she would do. Step backwards, away from him, or surrender to the intimacy of his kiss, even knowing it was stupid and wrong and wouldn’t achieve anything?
But oh, how she craved him. Ached for him. Desperately longed for him.
He was going to kiss her and she was going to let him. Heck, she was going to kiss him if he took much longer. The air around them seemed to hum and crackle with anticipation, their eyes locked, their lips parted. Time seemed to stand still. It was madness, but hadn’t it always been for them?
He dropped his head infinitesimally closer and she pressed a little higher, waiting, her mind blanked of the myriad reasons she shouldn’t let this happen.
Then he blinked and straightened.
‘What the hell is that?’
The question jolted her, dragging her out of the sensual fog.
‘Raf!’ She shot him a look of frustration and sanity began to seep back in. Gratitude too. How could she have let herself get sucked back into his sensual, distracting appeal?
In the seconds it took her to compute the situation, Gabe was already moving to the hallway. There was a bathroom on one side and a bedroom on the other. He followed the sound of the crying and pushed into the bedroom. He stood just inside the door, staring at the crib as though he’d never seen a baby in his entire life.
‘Excuse me,’ Abby said, moving past him to scoop up Raf. He nuzzled into her and she stroked his head, her eyes lifting to Gabe’s with a hint of triumph in their depths.
‘What is this?’ he finally asked, dumbfounded.
‘What do you think?’
‘It’s a baby.’
She could have laughed; it was so absurd. ‘Yes, it’s a baby. This is your son. You may remember I told you about him this afternoon?’
‘I…’ Gabe stared at the child with a look of utter confusion.
‘He needs to go back to sleep,’ she said, nodding towards the door. And purely because he was at such a loss he did as she suggested and stepped out of the room, leaving her to settle Raf on her own.
When Abby emerged a few moments later, Gabe was in the centre of the tiny living room, his expression grim.
‘You were telling the truth.’
‘Yes!’ she said emphatically. ‘Why would you think I wasn’t?’
He frowned. ‘You need to ask that?’
‘Gabe, I made a mistake that night. Admittedly, a big one. I get why you’re mad. But it was a mistake. A stupid decision. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t make a habit of lying to people.’
He rubbed his palm over his face and shook his head. ‘How is this even possible?’
‘Really? You need me to explain how that works?’
‘I mean, we used protection.’
‘Yeah. The doctor said that’s not infallible.’
He grimaced. ‘It was your first time. This shouldn’t have been possible.’
‘Okay, you need to stop saying that. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with and nine months after that night, almost to the day, Raf was born. So, whether it should or shouldn’t have been possible, that’s what happened.’
‘You should have told me,’ he said, harsh judgement in the statement.
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