The Secret Sanchez Heir

by Cathy Williams

  ‘Since when is it a fantasy to want the best for a child?’

  ‘It’s not,’ Abigail told him in a long-suffering voice that really got on his nerves. ‘Marriage is just not necessary in this day and age.’ She jumped up and once again began pacing through the gloriously all-white room. Just looking around her was enough to show her how great the differences were between them. They were chalk and cheese, and it was no wonder his sister had been appalled when she had found out about their relationship. When he had turned his back on her, she had been left in his flash penthouse apartment in New York to pack her things and clear off, and she had had the pleasure of listening to his sister rant about her unsuitability for her brother.

  ‘Leandro needs someone of his own class,’ Cecilia had stormed, while Abigail had packed her bag in frozen silence, too distressed with Leandro’s disappearance really to pay much attention to what Cecilia had been telling her. ‘You’re no good for him. He can’t get involved with a thief, and it’s just a good thing that I had the wit to get involved and rake up that stuff about you or else heaven only knows what might have happened!’

  Nothing would have happened, as it turned out. The fact that Leandro had found it so easy to walk away had said it all. Now, here he was proposing marriage, but she was still the same person who was unsuitable for him, the same person he had found it easy to walk away from.

  ‘I’m willing to let you see Sam whenever you want to,’ she told him. ‘And I get it that you can give him opportunities that I would never be able to in a million years, so of course if you want to contribute financially then I have no problem with that. But it would be a complete disaster for us to get involved in any other way. I mean, the world is full of kids who grow up perfectly happily when their parents are divorced or separated.’

  ‘I don’t care about those cheerful kids you tell me thrive when their parents are separated,’ Leandro said calmly.

  ‘Why won’t you listen to me?’ Abigail burst out. ‘We don’t come from the same world,’ she enunciated in a low, urgent voice. ‘It would never work. Your sister was right about that. I’m from a different class and never the twain shall meet. At least, not unless you want to become infected by me. So, marriage? It wouldn’t last five seconds, and a break-up would be worse for a child than two adults who can communicate in a friendly fashion but aren’t saddled with one another.’

  ‘Rewind.’ Leandro was frowning. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘It would end in tears, Leandro. You can’t stick two people together who don’t like one another and hope it works out for the sake of a child, especially when that child is the result of an accident.’

  ‘What did Cecilia say to you?’

  ‘What?’ Perplexed, Abigail stared at him. It was always dangerous doing that because she found that, once she started looking, she couldn’t stop and it was no different now, even though they were in the middle of a heated argument. Or, at least, she was. Leandro was so assured, so controlled, so stupidly beautiful. It was no wonder she had fallen head over heels in love with him and it was no wonder that even now, when the love bit had crashed and burned, her body still responded to that dark, powerful magnetism in ways that left her feeling addled and all at sea.

  ‘I admit that there was no need for Cecilia to ride in to my rescue.’ Leandro grimaced because his habit of indulging his sister had never left him, even though now he could see that she was wilful, where once that could have been interpreted as restless and youthfully energetic. ‘But she did it with the best of intentions.’

  Abigail couldn’t help herself. She rolled her eyes, gritted her teeth and clenched one fist because for a guy who was so clued in he could be shockingly stupid.

  Momentarily distracted, Leandro frowned. ‘She’s protective of me.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘It comes with the territory. I effectively looked after her because our parents were too busy pretending that they didn’t have to grow up.’

  ‘Cecilia isn’t protective,’ Abigail said in a rush. ‘She’s possessive and it’s not healthy. Okay..’ she was constrained to be fair ‘...she might be protective, and she might have been anxious that you’d get wrapped up with someone who might have been after your money, but that’s not the only reason she was determined to break us up. Cecilia didn’t think that I was good enough for you and she made that perfectly clear once you were out of earshot. “A common little tramp who should go back to the dustbin she crawled out of” was how she put it!’ She sighed and sat down, spreading her fingers flat on her lap and staring down at them. She felt mean talking about his sister when she wasn’t there to defend herself but why shouldn’t Leandro know what she thought? Their class differences were just another thing to take into account, whether he liked it or not.

  ‘Cecilia and I are not as close as we once were,’ Leandro murmured reflectively. Had he been too generous in forgiving a side to his sister that it had been easier to ignore than acknowledge? He thought back to Cecilia’s enthusiasm when he had taken the bait and started going out with Rosalind, the perfect mate on paper with the right pedigree and all the right credentials.

  ‘I apologise for having said anything, Leandro,’ Abigail told him stiltedly, ‘but Cecilia had a point. We don’t come from the same background.’

  ‘We’re getting off topic here.’ He would think about his sister later. He’d taken his eye off the ball with her, and maybe it was time to correct that oversight, but right now there were more important things to focus on.

  ‘We’re not. I’m just trying to make you see why this marriage proposal of yours doesn’t make sense.’

  He looked at her, his brilliant eyes veiled. ‘I am not prepared for you to have another man in your life,’ he said bluntly, ‘who will inevitably have influence over my son.’

  Abigail laughed because it seemed ludicrous for him to be thinking about another man in her life. She hadn’t so much as glanced at anyone since Leandro and she drew a blank when she thought about moving on and doing normal stuff like going on dates and getting to know other men.

  Who could possibly ever compare to him? Reluctantly, she looked at him and did a quick mental comparison between Leandro and every other single man she had ever spoken to, communicated with or even set eyes on in her entire life.

  Leandro won hands down, and it wasn’t just because of the way he looked. He was larger than life in his dynamism, his vitality, his overpowering sexual magnetism. She had sensed that the very second he had approached her in that hotel foyer and she had allowed herself to go with the flow. Only afterwards had she worked out that a man like Leandro could have any woman and that the relationship that had become more and more significant for her had, for him, remained firmly on the same footing on which it had begun.

  ‘How do you feel about another woman in my life?’ he asked shrewdly, and Abigail snapped out of the wistful reverie that had swept over her. She blinked, focused and thought about what he had said.

  Wasn’t it far more likely that he would be snapped up? Women with a child in tow were never seen as sex sirens and, on a practical level, Abigail knew that she would struggle to find the time to go out and paint the town red anyway. She would carry on with her job, because she would want to maintain her independence, and between her job and looking after Sam—even if there was an injection of cash that made things easier—her life would be as hectic as it always was.

  But a man with an infant in tow, a sexy, eligible billionaire bachelor with an infant in tow, would be even more of a catch because there was nothing sexier than a guy pushing a pram. Leandro wouldn’t even have to try. He would be targeted and there would be another Rosalind out there who would snap him up sooner rather than later. Chances were that, with a child to consider, he would be far more amenable to the concept of getting married. Subconsciously, he would be seeking out a mate with whom he would be able to share parental duties.

/>   How would she feel about that?

  She broke out in tingly perspiration. Of course this was what sharing a child was all about, she told herself stoutly. Blended families. It happened every day of the week!

  Unfortunately, thinking about a blended family with Leandro in the starring role, and some gorgeous, upper-class blonde as his co-star, made her feel sick.

  She started when he suddenly stood up and looked at his watch. ‘What time do you collect Sam?’

  Dazed, Abigail looked at him and blinked like an owl. ‘Not for another couple of hours,’ she admitted.

  ‘You put him in childcare every day, nine to six?’

  She bristled and followed him to the kitchen, where he began rummaging in a cupboard, fetching the ingredients for coffee. ‘Vanessa is very generous with my hours,’ she told him. ‘I get in at nine-thirty and work until four and I have Fridays off. I usually catch up with whatever admin is outstanding then. She understands the pressures on working mothers. Not many employers do.’

  Abigail’s mind was still furiously playing with the image of a Leandro all settled down with a woman, a woman actually destined to wear the engagement ring he had kept for investment purposes. Wasn’t it fair to say that she would resent some other woman holding Sam? Cooing at him? Pushing him on a swing in the park?

  Would she be laughing up at Leandro, holding his hand and planning the perfect little family holiday with Sam...?

  ‘I don’t approve of my son being stuck in a nursery for hours on end.’ Leandro delivered this on a note of finality. ‘Do you? Honestly?’

  Abigail hesitated and then blurted out defensively, ‘What choice did I have? I had to get out there and earn a living to keep the roof over our heads.’

  ‘And yet you never thought to seek me out and ask for help.’

  ‘No. Not once,’ she said honestly.

  ‘You must have been lonely,’ Leandro suddenly commented, surprising himself and her with the incisive remark, and Abigail blushed and hesitated. Without her noticing, he’d brought her coffee, and oddly he’d remembered how she took it—strong with very little milk.

  ‘I got through it,’ she said, tilting her chin at a bullish angle and leading him to think of her as a kid out there looking after herself, doing whatever it took to put one foot in front of the other. Which made him think of the shoplifting charge against her, and he had a sudden wave of sympathy for her youthful desire to fit in.

  ‘So you did.’ He looked at her reflectively until she went bright red and began to toy with the handle of the mug. ‘I’m making this sound like a business deal,’ he drawled, and Abigail flicked a glance at his lean, thoughtful, outrageously handsome face.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ she questioned. ‘You’ve found out that you have a child and...and... I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you at the time. Perhaps I should have but, at the time, keeping it to myself felt like the right thing to do.’ Abigail sighed and absently curled one long, escaped strand of hair round her finger, then undid the little bun and smoothed her hand through its long mass, before propping her chin in the palm of her hand and staring at him. ‘And now you’re approaching the problem—and, yes, that’s what you called it, Leandro—with the most logical solution you can think of that fits in with your desire to be a full-time father, now that you’ve been put in the position of having to do something.’

  ‘All true.’

  ‘Most men would understand where I’m coming from. They would see that it’s totally impractical to think about marrying someone you’re not in love with for the sake of a child.’

  ‘Also true.’

  ‘But you have to be different, don’t you, Leandro?’ she said with a mixture of helplessness and frustration. She stood up and walked across to the deep, gleaming stainless steel sink, and stared through the window for a few seconds at a view that couldn’t have been more different from the view she had from her kitchen sink, then she turned around, leaned against the counter and stared at him. ‘So tell me how this isn’t a business deal, and tell me how approaching marriage like a business transaction can ever be a good thing.’

  ‘Well,’ he said pensively, ‘in point of fact, I happen to think that a marriage undertaken as a business proposition stands a far better chance of staying the course. Look at the other options when emotions are involved—either there’s the soul-destroying disillusionment once the gold veneer wears off and the rust starts creeping through or, even worse, there’s the never-ending high passion that leaves no room for anything else and ends up destroying everything around it.’

  ‘You’re so cynical.’

  ‘I’m being realistic, Abby.’ Leandro looked at her steadily. ‘Set alongside those, a business transaction becomes a gold-plated, blue-chip option. But...’ He stood up and strolled towards her and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as he drew closer. ‘Like I said, this isn’t just a business transaction, is it?’ He stopped in front of her and leaned forward, caging her in by placing his hands flat on the counter on either side of her.

  ‘Of course it is,’ she spluttered.

  ‘Business transactions don’t take into account the sort of chemistry we have,’ Leandro told her flatly. ‘Business transactions are cold, calculated and devoid of the sexual charge that makes it hard for us to keep our hands off one another. In one way, it would make sense for us not to complicate a situation by giving in to what we both want. And of course, if you dig your heels in, then we won’t complicate things. We will accept that other people will enter our lives.’

  He shrugged. He was playing a wild card, but she could be as stubborn as a mule, and he couldn’t appear to force her hand. Under the casual tone of voice and the nonchalant, cool indifference, he found that he was wondering tensely how this would play out. ‘I am a highly sexual man,’ he admitted. ‘I would be unable to remain celibate for any length of time.’

  ‘That’s so tacky, Leandro.’ But thinking about that made her feel sick.

  ‘I prefer to call it honest.’ The silence pooled between them and then he leant towards her and feathered his lips over hers. ‘And if I’m to be honest again,’ he murmured, his voice a caress that made her shiver and that squashed the voice of reason telling her to push him away politely but firmly because this just wasn’t going to do. ‘I would rather be a highly sexual man with you.’

  ‘Leandro...’

  ‘I want you, Abby, and I don’t just want you for my wife because you are the mother of my child. I want you for my lover because no other woman has ever turned me on the way you do.’

  He kissed her again and this time the kiss was deeper and hungrier. His tongue lashed hers and she moaned softly into his mouth. He took her hand and guided it to the bulge between his legs and he pressed her hand firmly on it. The sensation was exquisite. He was past caring whether he might scare her off. He could feel her want radiating from her in waves and it matched his.

  Not giving her time to start formulating a bunch of reasons for them to stop, Leandro tugged the prissy white blouse free from her trousers and began unbuttoning it, giving up at some point and tugging it off her, to hell with popping buttons. Pretty soon, she’d have enough money to buy as many prissy white blouses as her heart desired. His big hand curved round her breast possessively and he massaged it through the lacy bra, finding the stiffened bud of her nipple and rolling his thumb over it until her breathing thickened and she was squirming against him.

  Wrong, wrong, wrong, her head was yelling, but the truth was that she couldn’t get enough of him. She’d never been able to get enough of him. She shimmied closer, her hand still feeling his hardness, her whole body keening towards him and resenting the barrier of their clothes.

  Still kissing her, Leandro pulled back slightly so that he could get rid of his shirt, then he brushed her hand away, and undid the trousers.

  �
�I’m in heaven,’ he breathed hoarsely as her hands curved beneath the opened shirt. He freed her breasts, then unhooked the bra. Without giving her time to think, he swept her off her feet and carried her out of the kitchen and up the flight of stairs to his bedroom. Her feeble protest was met with a plundering kiss that drove all thoughts of resistance straight out of her head.

  Her whole body was flushed and trembling as she watched him move quickly towards the shutters, closing them so that the watery afternoon light suddenly became muted. By the time he hit the bed, where he had deposited her, he was unclothed.

  Beautiful. He was as beautiful as a statue of a Greek god, all muscle and sinew and a six-pack stomach that was as flat as a washboard. He moved to stand by the bed and she sat up, half-closed her eyes and took him into her mouth.

  Leandro breathed in sharply and plunged his fingers into her hair. She knew just how to please him, moving fast then more slowly, her hand gripping him and turning him on in all kinds of places. He only eased her off when he knew that he would climax in her mouth if she carried on, and he wasn’t going to do that.

  He was going to take her slowly and thoroughly. She wasn’t just his lover, she was the mother of his child, and he felt a kick of pride and ferocious possessiveness that he’d never have thought possible.

  He undressed her. It was familiar and exciting, rediscovering the body that had always had the ability to drive him out of his mind. When she was naked, he straddled her and looked down at her exquisitely delicate face and her full, beautiful breasts tipped with circular discs that he wanted to lathe with his tongue.

  ‘You drive me wild.’ He groaned, and she smiled drowsily at him.

  ‘Less talking.’ She reached out and traced the tip of his manhood with her finger, keeping her eyes on his face and loving the reaction that tiny gesture evoked.