Secrets Made in Paradise

by Natalie Anderson

  Emerald stood, visibly drawing courage as she walked towards him. ‘I thought we could have more of a conversation.’

  ‘About what?’ There was nothing to discuss. He could provide a better place for them, there was no question of that.

  But as he watched the pulse at the side of her neck flutter, his own accelerated. And she still didn’t begin to pack.

  ‘I can’t just leave,’ she said.

  ‘We need to work this out and we need time and space in which to do that.’ He tried to stay reasonable. ‘My place is bigger. Or do you want me to stay with you in this shoebox?’ He couldn’t resist stepping closer to her this time, or taking a Machiavellian delight in the way colour swarmed more boldly in her cheeks. ‘Is that what you want? Me to share that narrow bed with you?’

  Her lashes dropped, veiling a sudden flare in her eyes.

  That other feeling ripped through him. The one he’d desperately wanted to ignore. The one he’d given way to with such glee all those months ago. He gritted his teeth and cursed himself.

  This woman had kept the most precious thing from him and when she’d discovered the truth of who he was, she’d still denied him, yet still all his body wanted was to haul hers beneath his so he could sample her sweet fervour. She’d been so hot that night and he ached to seduce her into that soft, arching slickness once more. He loathed his own weakness.

  ‘I can’t spend another night apart from him, Emmy,’ he said harshly, curling his hands into fists in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for her and admitting a painful truth in the process. ‘I have too much to catch up on.’

  ‘You can’t stay here,’ she said.

  ‘Then you’d better start packing.’ He paced away from her, turning to watch the boy from the safety of the window.

  ‘Where are you staying?’ she asked dully.

  He didn’t feel like answering. He didn’t want to waste time or energy on words when the answer would be obvious soon enough. He had too much to process already. Moodily he watched his son. He had no idea how to even approach him.

  ‘Javier.’

  He glanced over at the hesitation in her voice.

  ‘Will we be returning here?’ Her blue eyes were very wide, very worried.

  He steeled himself against the emotion and the effect it had deep inside him. ‘What do you think?’

  She blinked rapidly. ‘You can’t just expect us both to move in with you.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘I have a position here in which Luke can be with me full time. It’s the perfect arrangement.’

  ‘Perfect?’ He almost choked. ‘Living in this tiny room above a store where he’s exposed to exhaust fumes and strangers coming in and out all the time? You’re busy—he could get into strife when your back is turned.’

  She stiffened. ‘I would never allow that to happen—’

  ‘But it could.’ He was laying it on thick, but he needed to win and he was going with his strongest play—which was her obvious desire to protect her son. ‘It’s not perfect for him. Or me.’

  She swallowed. ‘You expect me to give up everything?’

  ‘You did that to me.’ As he gazed at her, the anger and desire within him coalesced. ‘So for eighteen months, yeah. You give up everything.’ The thought of having her with him, within his power, was appallingly appealing and he couldn’t resist demanding it. After all, wasn’t it only right and fair?

  Not fair. His conscience needled, but the anger drowned out the discord.

  ‘Eighteen months?’ Her jaw dropped. ‘Luke’s only nine months old.’

  ‘I missed every moment of your pregnancy.’

  ‘That wasn’t your—that was my...’ She trailed off at the look in his eyes.

  Eighteen months. Now he’d said it, he’d settle for nothing less.

  ‘I think if you tell Connie the truth, she’ll understand completely,’ he said crisply. ‘I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you both in a better situation and for Luke to have his father in his life.’

  He’d never wanted a family on terms like this—a surprise with a woman he barely knew and who’d hidden the truth from him. But he’d do what was right by his son. He’d do better than his own parents had done for him. Somehow. He was determined to.

  ‘How long have you known?’ Emerald asked as she fetched a worn striped bag and opened it up. ‘Javier?’ she prompted when he didn’t respond.

  He clenched his jaw but knew he had to make an effort and respond even though he hated reliving that moment he’d seen her again. ‘I saw you from a distance yesterday afternoon when Connie was returning Luke to you. If I hadn’t been there...’ That possibility made him see red again. ‘So it’s only a few hours since I saw his birth certificate.’ He broke off, determined to control his surge of anger, purely because of the small piece of innocence cooing on the play mat. ‘He deserves the best from both of us.’

  Emmy stared at Javier. The remnants of anger and hurt were evident in his eyes but she also saw that, despite his reluctance to speak more, he was trying. And what choice did she have? He was right. Luke deserved better and she had failed him. She’d been too scared to reach out once she knew who her ‘Ramon’ really was.

  But the feeling she was fighting hardest? That slithering ripple of desire that had twisted into life the second she’d seen him again. And the moment he’d mentioned sleeping in her small bed? A wave of heat engulfed her again. It was so wrong. So stupid and selfish and wrong.

  ‘It won’t take me long to pack.’ Her voice cracked and she hurriedly began filling her bag. She didn’t have much, nor did Luke, so it wouldn’t take long. But as she shoved their belongings together, she couldn’t let this continue without trying to explain herself a little more to Javier.

  ‘I left early that morning because I had to get to a project on another island. I’ve been a volunteer abroad for a while,’ she said. ‘That night, I’d just wanted an escape and you were...’ She trailed off and swallowed uncomfortably. She couldn’t explain that bit any more—it was too embarrassing to admit how she’d decided to keep that night as the fantasy it had been. She’d not wanted to spoil the memory of it with an awkward goodbye that next morning.

  ‘When I realised I was pregnant I was worried,’ she continued as Javier stood still as still by the window, silently watching. ‘I hid it for as long as I could because I couldn’t afford to lose my volunteer visa. But then Lucero, the head of the foundation, found out. He was very kind. He helped me, so did others in the community.’ She had been so grateful to the elderly man when she’d had nowhere else to go. ’I didn’t discover your real identity until the property deal was announced after he died. Luke was already a few months old.’

  That time had been horrible. She’d been alone, angry, scared, so tired and so broke she was trapped. She’d been grateful and dependent on first Lucero’s, then Connie’s support. And when she’d finally found out who Javier really was, she’d become terrified that he might find out about their baby. ‘I felt betrayed. Lucero was gone, you’d lied. I was hormonal and I had this tiny little boy who’d become the most precious thing in my life and when I learned who you really were I was afraid...’ She trailed off again and shook her head hopelessly. How could she ever explain herself to Javier without telling him the rest of her background? But it was too dangerous to do that. She couldn’t trust he wouldn’t use it against her.

  ‘Afraid of what?’ Javier eventually prompted.

  She shrugged. ‘That you’d swoop in and take him from me.’

  She registered the immediate flash of furious hurt in his eyes.

  Maybe he’d think she was irrational or over-emotional or something. But the fear of him taking Luke from her wasn’t irrational in her view. Because that was what happened. Powerful people took away the things she loved most. Powerful people judged and they’d always found her wanting. People had judged her
all her life—slandering her intentions and decisions. Because of her parents, her brother and, yes, the mistakes she’d made herself. People who knew her past didn’t trust her. So she didn’t trust people in return. Particularly if they had privilege and money and Javier Torres had both.

  She had no power with which to fight him, so she’d felt she had no choice but to hide. Luke was too precious. And how could she trust Javier when he’d lied to her from the first?

  There was another long moment of silence and she sensed him grappling the emotion, almost as if he were carefully choosing what words he was comfortable to release.

  ‘I’m not a monster, Emerald. But make no mistake, I’m no hero either,’ he said so expressionlessly that she shivered. ‘So I’m swooping in and taking you too.’

  His expression was now so fixed it was unreadable—and he was so far from the smiling man she’d met on the beach that evening.

  ‘Is that everything packed?’ he asked curtly.

  Didn’t he want to hear more of her side of the story? Didn’t he want to ask more or offer any further explanation of his own actions? Didn’t he want to forgive her?

  No. Of course he didn’t. People who were quick to judge never did. They didn’t want to revise their opinions once they’d leapt to their conclusions.

  She felt sick. She’d been lost in a fog of desperation, struggling to feed Luke and scared for their future—afraid that exactly this would happen. She couldn’t risk telling Javier all her truth now, not when he was this remote and disapproving. Her whole background would appal him. But this time she couldn’t pack her bag and run away. She had to stay and fight for Luke. She’d escaped her past before, she’d figure out a way to get through this too. And nothing mattered more than Luke’s well-being. She’d put up with anything to ensure he was safe and well.

  But she wondered if Javier could say the same. Or was this just a powerful man used to being in control venting his anger at being kept in the dark? Was this about him getting control back more than it was about Luke?

  ‘You don’t want children,’ she said before thinking better of it. ‘You couldn’t have made it clearer. That night you even said you weren’t interested in marriage and kids.’

  ‘Of course I made that clear,’ he said frozenly from his spot by the window. ‘I always do that to put off women who might think having my baby would set them up for life.’ He shot her a pointed look. ‘And I needed to be extra clear with an inexperienced woman who’d neglected to mention that she was a virgin until the very moment we were about to have sex. I had to ensure she wasn’t hearing wedding bells.’

  Her jaw dropped at his outrageous arrogance. ‘You think you’re some hot catch? No woman who knows what you’re really like would ever want to marry you.’

  His shoulders lifted and dropped dismissively. ‘It’s amazing what people will put up with when there’s a hefty bank balance on offer.’

  ‘Well, it ought to be obvious now that I don’t want your money.’ She flushed. ‘Nor do I want you.’

  There was such guarded coolness in those cocoa and coffee eyes. ‘Legally Luke will be my son and heir,’ he countered quietly. ‘We don’t need to marry to give him my name. That’s a simple certificate change.’

  ‘What about my name?’ she asked nervously. ‘He has that now.’

  ‘No reason why he can’t have mine too. Jones-Torres or Torres-Jones.’ He shrugged. ‘We can flip a coin later.’

  So there was to be none of that you must marry me now old-fashioned autocratic drama? He was making out as if this were easy. Emotionless.

  But it wasn’t. Misery swamped her as Javier asserted his paternal authority. But didn’t he have every right to do that? She owed. And his calm, apparent reasonableness made her feel worse for having kept quiet these last two months. So now she faced eighteen months of living with him and then what—some shared care arrangement, with Javier offering their son a lifestyle that she could never equal or compete with? She almost bent double with despair at the prospect. She’d inevitably be shut out of Luke’s life.

  ‘I’ll carry the bag, you take Luke,’ he said stiffly. ‘It might take us a little time to get acquainted.’

  Downstairs Connie sent her an anxious look as Javier carried her bags to the big black SUV waiting outside.

  ‘He’s Luke’s father, isn’t he?’ Connie swiftly whispered as soon as he was out of earshot.

  ‘It’s that obvious?’ Emmy asked.

  ‘You don’t talk with any man, ever.’ Connie smiled. ‘And then you bring him upstairs when you’re supposed to be working?’

  It wasn’t as if she’d had much choice. ‘Back then, I didn’t know who he was...’ Her voice faded and she swallowed through the sudden tightness.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Connie stepped closer.

  Emmy’s heart broke at that concern but she quickly nodded, not wanting to get emotional. ‘I will be. We will be.’

  ‘Stay in touch. Please let me know how you are...’ Connie gave Emmy’s arm a gentle squeeze and pressed a quick kiss on Luke’s head. ‘I’m going to miss you both.’

  ‘I’m going to miss you too.’ Emmy’s breath caught and she blinked back sudden tears. ‘Thank you so much for everything. We couldn’t have survived without you.’

  Connie’s grip on her arm tightened. ‘You’re a survivor, don’t forget that.’

  Her support gave Emmy a much-needed boost. She was a survivor and she loved Luke as no one else in the world could. But then she saw the car seat already fixed in the rear of the car and reality hit again. Javier had arrived with no intention of leaving without their son. What else did he have planned that she didn’t know about yet?

  ‘Are you staying at a hotel?’ she asked nervously as she sat in the back between Javier and Luke. ‘Which one?’

  Javier didn’t reply as the driver pulled away from the store. Emmy didn’t push it. He clearly valued privacy for personal conversations, and that was fair enough.

  Less than fifteen minutes later they pulled up, not at a hotel, but rather the marina. Emmy’s heart took a knock as she saw a sleek speedboat idling at the dock. A crewman stepped forward when he saw the car pull in.

  Emerald put her hand over Luke’s tiny one and he gripped her finger. She had no family. Nowhere to go. No one to turn to. Connie was old and had limited resources, she’d helped her the best she could and Emmy couldn’t take advantage of her generosity any longer. She had to deal with this alone.

  ‘I don’t think that boat is safe for Luke,’ she said, desperately searching for a reason to refuse to board.

  Javier glanced at her coolly. ‘Do you think I would endanger him?’ he asked softly.

  The tiny hairs rose on the back of Emmy’s neck. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Good. We’re staying on my yacht.’

  Emmy tensed, trying not to let her reaction show because that didn’t feel safe for her. On a yacht, they’d be isolated and too...close. She’d be vulnerable—not because she was physically afraid of him, but because she was attracted to him still. She had the feeling he could emotionally devastate her on more than one level and on some small yacht, there’d be no escape.

  Javier took the tiny life jacket the waiting crewman now held out for them and turned to where she stood holding their baby. ‘This is only for the speedboat. The yacht has been baby-proofed.’

  Emmy gritted her teeth and put the jacket on her son; she’d wait and see this yacht for herself to decide what was safe for him.

  ‘I have one for you too,’ Javier added.

  She glared at him. ‘I can swim.’

  Javier stared back at her. ‘Put it on or I’ll put it on for you.’

  For a long moment they clashed in silence—the storm of emotion slowly changed the colour of Javier’s eyes from that cocoa mix to almost all pure black coffee and Emmy suddenly found herself relent
ing. ‘Will you hold him while I put mine on, then?’ she half choked.

  To her surprise, Javier’s eyes widened uneasily, but he didn’t hesitate to reply. ‘Of course.’

  He held his hands out awkwardly and Emmy placed her son into them.

  As Emmy swiftly shrugged the jacket on, Luke contemplated Javier seriously while Javier gazed back at Luke—the wary curiosity in their expressions was identical.

  ‘I can take him now.’ Emmy held her hands out the second she was done with her jacket.

  Luke babbled at Javier in that exact moment.

  ‘No, that’s okay,’ Javier said brusquely. ‘I’ve got him.’

  A hot wash of discomfort flooded her as she followed them to the speedboat. Was she jealous? Or worse, were her ovaries exploding all over again at the sight of her son and his father assessing each other with such fascination?

  The crewman had already stowed her bag, so within two minutes they were moving. The speedboat chugged slower than she suspected it usually did. It was then that she finally paid attention and realised to which vessel they were heading. It had been half hidden beyond a small tour vessel and it wasn’t a yacht at all. It was a floating mansion. It gleamed as if new—its navy and white trim stylish and the chrome fittings almost blinding in the sun. As they came right alongside she stared, counting the levels up. There were at least four decks she could see. Was there a bunch of other passengers already on there?

  ‘Is this yours?’ she asked as she climbed aboard, her arms feeling empty as he still carried Luke.

  ‘You don’t like it?’

  No one could not like it, but Emmy had never felt as uncomfortable in all her life. Was he really this wealthy? ‘It’s...massive. I thought you were all about environmental eco-tourism.’

  ‘In this instance,’ he clipped, ‘I’m all about privacy.’

  Not even the luxury cruise boats she’d seen arriving here had this detail and comfort. The wooden decks gleamed while the soft furnishings were rich and lavish. There was obviously no expense spared, every fitting and comfort designer. It’s opulence and extravagance were staggering.