by Alexia Adams
Lexy had not only lied about having been married to a nobody, but also about her divorce settlement. Daniel’s chest burned like the worst case of acid reflux he’d ever had. It took effort to breathe. “I’ll listen to Alexandra’s side of the story, but thanks for the heads-up.”
“She’s a real smart girl, that one. If y’all don’t believe me, ask my money people. They cut her the check.” Wesley followed Daniel across the lobby. No way was he going to have this conversation with Lexy with her ex in tow.
Before he could excuse himself, an elevator door opened and Lexy rushed out, Max in her arms with a Ferrari ball cap pulled way down over his brow. It should have pleased Daniel that she wore his team’s hat, but he was too caught up with the sheer panic on her face. Genevieve hurried behind, dragging a suitcase.
“Mr. Harding, why don’t we get a drink and you can tell me what happened,” Daniel said, trying to distract the man so Lexy could make her escape. Too late. Wesley caught sight of her and stepped into her path.
“Holy shit. Is that my boy?” Shock kept Wesley’s voice low. Even so, several people stopped to watch the little drama playing out in the lobby.
Daniel stepped between Lexy and her ex. “If you don’t want this entire conversation aired on the evening news, I suggest we take this discussion somewhere private.” He put a hand on Wesley’s arm to prevent him coming any closer to Lexy.
“I have nothing to say to him,” Lexy replied. Daniel’s stomach fell. Any hope that she didn’t know this guy evaporated at her words. How could she not tell him she’d married into one of America’s heavyweight political families? Wesley Harding III did not count as “no one important.”
“Alexandra, is that my son?”
She shifted Max to her other hip, farther away from his father. Camera phones were out now, recording the scene.
“Lexy, Wesley, look around,” Daniel said as quietly as he could. It broke them out of their stare-down, and for the first time they noticed the audience.
“Oh, God.” Lexy paled and Daniel put an arm around her.
The concierge appeared at his side. “Mr. Harding, Mr. Michaud, our business center is currently empty if you’d like some privacy. It’s just this way.” He directed them to an office to the left of the lobby.
Lexy had such a tight hold on Max, the little boy struggled to breathe. Daniel took him out of her arms, but still he wheezed. “Lexy, where’s Max’s inhaler?” While she searched in her bag, Daniel turned to the concierge. “Get a bottle of water. And a whiskey,” he added after glancing at Lexy’s face. All her nightmares were coming to light in one afternoon. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. But at this point, he’d probably be lying.
Finally finding the asthma medicine, Lexy gave it to Max. Within a minute his breathing became easier. “Genevieve, take Max back upstairs. Call us immediately if he has another attack,” Daniel instructed.
“Wait one dad-gum minute—” Wesley began as he moved to block the door.
“Touch the boy or his mother and that’s the last thing you’ll do,” Daniel threatened.
Wesley moved aside, his gaze never leaving Max’s face as Genevieve took him from Daniel. He opened the door at the same time the concierge returned with the drinks. “Please have security escort Ms. Dubois and the child back to her room,” Daniel said then handed the bottle of water to Max, the whiskey to Lexy, and shut the door again. With her son safely out of the room, Lexy sank into a chair.
“Alexandra, why the hell didn’t you tell me I had a child? Momma never would have insisted on a divorce if she knew you were carrying her grandchild. And you should have named him Wesley. You know that’s the tradition in my family.” Wesley leaned over the table but made no move to get closer to her.
“His name is Maximillian Camparelli. And he’s my son. Not yours.” Lexy slung back the whiskey, returning color to her cheeks.
Wesley’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you had sexual relations with another man while you were married to me?”
“I’m saying you make one move to take my child from me and I’ll cut off your prized family jewels, as pathetic as they are, and feed them to your daddy’s cattle. Although I doubt they’d want them either.” Lexy stood and Wesley took a step back. “I think we’re done here.”
“Don’t count on it, darlin’. My lawyers will be in touch.” With a sneer, Wesley strode from the room, his phone already at his ear.
Daniel shut the door again. “You told me you were married to no one important.” He paced the room the other side of the table from Lexy. “The Hardings do not qualify as unimportant. How the hell did you wind up with him?”
“When we met, I honestly didn’t know who he was. My mum only watched trashy dramas and reality TV, and we never followed American politics. And at uni I was so intent on my studies and weight-loss, I never paid much attention to what was happening in the world.”
“You met at university?” He was still reeling from the knowledge that Lexy had been involved with one of the most powerful families in America. No wonder she’d been so paranoid. If she’d have trusted him, Daniel never would have asked her to come to Texas. She could have stayed in the Philippines and then met him in Mexico.
“Yes. Wesley came to Cambridge to finish his economics degree. We literally ran into each other while we were reading and walking. He was shy and quiet and so was I. I’d lost most of the weight by that time, but I still didn’t have any self-confidence. I guess he liked the fact that I had no clue about his family. We started going out, and after four months he asked me to marry him.”
“Did you love him?” The burn in his chest ignited again as he waited for her answer.
“I thought I did. I’d never had a man even look at me before. I was flattered, and convinced myself this was my only chance to get married. He never talked about his family, so I assumed he was estranged from them, like I was. We married in the registrar’s office with only the staff there as witnesses.”
“And how long did the marriage last?”
“Three months. And to be honest, it was bloody awful. When we were going out he’d treated me like a princess. But that all changed once his ring was on my finger. He was so lazy, couldn’t even pick up his clothes and put them in the laundry hamper. He never helped with cooking or washing up. I was his personal servant. And the sex was pathetic.”
“Lexy, don’t…” Daniel didn’t want to hear about her with another man.
“Please. I’ve never told anyone, not even Sonia. I’d like to get it off my chest.” Without waiting for his reply, she continued, “We were both virgins when we married. And he hated my body, said it was gross. After I went to bed, he’d watch porn then he’d come upstairs and wake me up for sex. He kept the lights off so he didn’t have to look at me and left my nightie on so he didn’t have to touch my skin. It was nothing like what we share. I’d never even had an orgasm till I met you.”
He really wished he’d punched Wesley now. “Mon Dieu, tell me you tossed that asshole out the door.”
“I wish. Somehow, his mother got wind of our marriage and showed up at the house on our three-month anniversary. She didn’t say a word to me, just dragged Wesley out into the garden. Then ten minutes later, they both left.”
“What? He didn’t talk to you, explain what was happening?”
“Just, ‘Sorry, darlin’, this has been a mistake. You can stay here until the lease runs out next month.’”
How could a man treat a woman that way? Especially a woman he professed to love enough to marry?
“What did you do?”
“I moved back to student digs, and two weeks later I received a package by courier with a document dissolving the marriage and a check for a million dollars. I signed the paperwork but didn’t cash the check. It made me feel like he was paying for my services in bed and out. Trust me, our marriage, and especially the sex, was not worth that much. Then the next day I discovered I was pregnant. W
esley never even bothered to contact me, so I never told him about the baby. If he didn’t want me, he wasn’t having my child. And I felt like if accepted his financial offering, he’d have bought a right to Max as well.”
“Wesley claims you took his money. That’s why he was here, to warn me you were a gold-digger.”
“That lying bastard.”
He caught her gaze and held it. “Why didn’t you tell me the identity of Max’s father? Don’t you trust me?”
“I … I don’t know. I guess I thought it would change the way you saw me. That maybe you would think I’m a gold-digger like Wesley claimed. You’d already accused me of trying to sleep with you to get pregnant and demand child support.”
He stared at her. Did he see her differently? Why did it matter that the asshole she’d been married to was a billionaire with immense political connections and not just some douche who didn’t know a real woman when he had one?
“I promised I would never jeopardize your custody of Max, but you neglected to tell me the one vital piece of information that would allow me to live up to that vow.” He ran a hand through his hair, shocked to find it shaking. “I’ve explored every inch of your body, but you haven’t really let me in, have you, Lexy?”
“Daniel … I…” Her hand that had reached out to him dropped back into her lap. She had no excuse.
“Merde. What do you want to do about the rest of this mess? There’s no point denying our relationship now; they’ve pieced together the photos from Russia and figured out you’re the woman in all of them.”
She sighed. “I know. And my boss is on his way here. I guess the shit will fully hit the fan tomorrow.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face, suddenly bone weary. “I have a race to win, and from second place on the grid. This is the worst timing possible.”
“I’m sorry. I know this is a distraction you don’t need.”
He pulled in a deep breath, trying to release some of the tightness in his chest. “I’m going to have a quiet night in my room. I’ll see you tomorrow. Do you want me to hire a bodyguard for you and Max?”
“No. I don’t think Wesley will try anything. At least not without consulting Momma this time.”
His hand was on the door handle when Lexy’s shattered voice stopped him.
“Are we done?” The question sliced through him.
“I don’t know. We’ll talk tomorrow after the race.”
Chapter 13
Mr. Petersen looked straight at her then scanned the crowd again. As he passed within a foot she heard him mutter something under his breath about incompetent staff. No way was she going to continue working for him. Daniel was right; she did have options. What they were she wasn’t sure, but she’d figure it out. Life was too short to do something she hated.
She stepped out of the crowd and grabbed her boss’s arm. “Welcome to Texas,” she said.
He looked her up and down and then once again for good measure. “I didn’t recognize you. You’ve done something to your hair … and, well, you look nice.” Be still my beating heart. With compliments like that I could lose my head.
It’d taken an hour to do her makeup this morning, hiding the ravages of a sleepless night. And if Genevieve hadn’t cancelled her second room service order, Lexy would be dealing with a food binge hangover as well. She’d alternatively worked herself into a frenzy thinking that any second Wesley was going to show up at her door with the police, demanding she hand over Max, then relaxed, remembering that her ex didn’t have the balls to claim his own socks at the Laundromat, never mind his son. Still, she had asked Genevieve to stay in the hotel room with Max and not open the door to anybody but her, Daniel, or her father.
Lexy’d had a brief conversation with her father last night as well. She’d come clean to him about Wesley, and he’d promised to stand beside her if it came to a custody fight. Ferrari was also going to issue a press statement saying it had not approached Daniel Michaud with a driving contract.
“Do you have a checked bag? The race starts in a couple of hours and we need to get to the track. I have a VIP pass for you so you’ll be able to get something to eat and drink there.” She was anxious to get to the circuit. Daniel had left for final practice early this morning after only a quick kiss. She could tell his mind was already on the circuit. At least he’d come by to check if she was okay. And he’d asked her to watch the race from his garage. That had to mean something, right?
“No, I just have my carry-on.”
“Good.” She directed him to a town car waiting by the curb.
“You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?” Mr. Petersen barely waited for the driver to shut the door before asking.
“Yes.”
“That is completely the opposite of what you were told to do. I can fire you.”
Go ahead, make my day. “How I conduct my personal life is none of your business, Mr. Petersen. However, as far as Destin Designs in concerned, I have a proposal for you to present to them.”
“What is that?” His tone shifted from accusatory to intrigued.
“In all the photos the media have of me and Daniel together, I’m also wearing Destin Designs creations. My understanding is that their women’s wear line is not doing so well. So, while I’m not saying I’m the ideal model, we can spin it that it took a woman wearing Destin Designs to capture the attention of the international playboy.”
God, she hated turning her relationship into an advertising campaign, but it should keep the client happy, Daniel would still be able to get his payout—money he’d promised to a girls’ education campaign—and it would hopefully buy her some time to figure out what she was going to do next.
“That could work,” Mr. Petersen acknowledged. “I’ll call them tomorrow.”
She itched to tell him to take his job and stick it where the sun didn’t shine, but she wasn’t that reckless. Not yet, anyway. She needed a plan first. She’d seen firsthand what happened when a woman relied solely on a man. If this didn’t work out with Daniel, or God forbid, something happened to him, she had to have a career, or at least a job, to fall back on. She would not end up like her mother.
Thanks to their VIP passes, they cut through many of the lines and she managed to ditch Mr. Petersen in the hospitality room well before the parade lap. After introducing him to several of the people she knew, she sneaked out to Daniel’s garage. He was already in his car on the grid and most of the mechanics were hovering there. As soon as the fifteen-second warning was given, they’d remove the tire blankets and race back to the pit lane. Adrenaline coursed through her, but she knew it was nothing compared to what they were feeling. How did they cope with so much stress in their job? Their performances were measured in thousandths of a second.
Twenty minutes into the race, Lexy wasn’t sure she was going to make it. She smiled for the cameras as they came around, cheered when Daniel made a pass, held her breath during the pit stops, and basically functioned at a cellular level during the rest of the time. Caring for a man who put his life in danger to win a stupid trophy was ridiculous. As Mandy had predicted, she felt every curve, every dip in the track as though she were in the car as well. At least watching from the garage, where food wasn’t allowed, meant she couldn’t give in to her craving for a fully-loaded pizza and a bathtub-sized margarita.
When Daniel eventually finished in second place, she collapsed onto her chair, only to have to run the length of the pit lane in high heels in order to catch a glimpse of him before he ascended to the podium. How could she do this week after week? Year after year? She’d have a heart attack by the time she was thirty.
If she stayed with Daniel. They still had to talk.
***
Daniel forced a smile. Second place was just the first loser. As he sprayed the champagne on the crowd below, he spotted Lexy. His chest swelled and his heart rate sped up. He could blame his second place finish on her or all the distractions from yesterday, but it didn’t change anything. He was d
amned if he did and damned if he didn’t, so he might as well do her. Too bad it hadn’t stayed at that. Whatever it was he felt for her, it was a hell of a lot more complicated than mere lust.
She waved up at him and his smile became genuine. With only one week before the race in Mexico, he’d better get this sorted rapidement.
“Did I cost you the win?” Lexy asked several hours later when they were finally alone. She stood across the room from him, her arms crossed over her stomach. Her hair was swept up in intricate folds, and the green gown she wore showed her gorgeous curves to full advantage. They were due at the victory party in twenty minutes.
“No. I’ve finished in second place before. I never got it together this weekend. There’s no one to blame but myself.” Some of the tension left his shoulders. It was true; he hadn’t been in sync with his car or the track. Some weekends were just like that. Overanalyzing did nothing but give him a headache. It was better to put all his energies into winning the next race. “How are you doing?”
“Okay. I’ll be happy to leave Texas. I haven’t heard anything from Wesley or his lawyers. Mr. Petersen is schmoozing potential clients. He threatened to fire me for sleeping with you and for bringing Max with us. However, as our personal relationship is none of his business, and as he never specifically said I couldn’t bring my son with me, he doesn’t have a case for dismissal on either count. And, you are now looking at the new, albeit very temporary, face of Destin Designs’s women’s fashion division.”
“You wear it well. Their profits are bound to skyrocket. But I asked about you. How are you coping?”
“I ate two hamburgers last night and would have had more if Genevieve hadn’t intervened. But so far today all I’ve had is a banana and a salad. And eight fingernails,” she added with a shrug.
He moved over to her and then ran his fingers down her cheek. “Were you worried about me?”