by Jennie Lucas
You’re firing me? Because I’m pregnant with your baby?
He felt another twist in his gut.
“Mr. Delacruz, if I may speak freely...” His longtime bodyguard Ramon Garcia, who’d been waiting in the lobby, followed him toward the waiting car. “Señor, I think you’ve made a mistake about Miss Everly. She’s a good person. She didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
Perfecto. This was just what he needed. One more person judging him. And now that Antonio knew he was indeed in the wrong, he really didn’t want to hear it. “It’s none of your business, Garcia.”
The man’s accusing eyes met his. “If you didn’t intend to step up, you never should have slept with her—”
“Enough,” he snapped, causing his bodyguard’s jaw to set. Wonderful, another trusted employee enraged with him. Antonio’s shoulders were tight as he climbed into the waiting Rolls-Royce. Garcia got into the front seat without a word.
“Where to, sir?” the driver asked him after a pause.
“Just drive,” Antonio ground out.
Looking out at the soft drizzle in the spring afternoon, his eyes fell on the pink cherry trees. Hana had been so excited that the negotiations would be in Tokyo at the same time the trees were likely to bloom. They bloom for such a short time, she’d said. It’s precious and beautiful. You have to enjoy it while you can. Before it’s gone.
Just like their night together, he thought.
For years, almost from the day he’d hired her, he’d resisted seducing her only by an act of pure will, because of her importance to his company.
Then she’d kissed him, and all his self-control had exploded to dust, burned away by fire. For the first time in his adult life, he’d given in to the demands of his body, the demands of his heart, over the cold decision of his reason.
Antonio had tried to tell himself that bedding her could somehow be a good thing for their working relationship. That it could end his desire for her. He’d even extracted a promise from Hana that they’d both forget the night ever happened—a promise he knew he himself could not fulfill.
Useless, all useless. From the morning he’d woken up with her soft naked body in his arms, he’d discovered taking her virginity hadn’t lessened his desire, only increased it. His need for her had been a constant torment for the next two months as they’d worked together round the clock on the Iyokan Airways deal. Every time he’d felt her brush against him innocently as they looked over documents together, he’d grasp the desk, remembering how he’d held her virgin body naked against his in the breathless heat of passion. As he heard her speak of business details, he’d hear, against his will, her cry as she’d gasped out with pleasure, gripping his back so tightly, he could still feel the marks of her fingernails—not against his skin, but against his heart.
It had terrified him.
Antonio had known, if he ever touched her again, it would destroy everything he cared about. His company would be hurt by her loss, and he would certainly lose her. Their working relationship could perhaps survive a one-night stand, but not a full-blown affair. He never kept a mistress for long. And how many times had Hana told him that her biggest dream was to someday have a real home, commitment, marriage, children? All things he could never give, not to her or anyone.
So he’d done the impossible. He’d pretended their night together had been forgettable. That it had, in fact, already been forgotten by him.
He’d been the one lying all this time. Not Hana.
Staring out the window blankly as his chauffeur drove him through Tokyo, Antonio looked down and realized his phone was somehow in his hands. Without letting himself think, he dialed Hana’s number.
She didn’t answer.
He tried again.
Same result.
No wonder, he thought grimly. He’d fired her, hadn’t he? She was no longer obligated to pick up when he called.
“Find her,” he barked at his bodyguard.
Turning in the front seat, Garcia’s rough face lifted into a crooked smile. “Her best friend lives in Tokyo. If she’s not answering the phone, she’s probably with him.”
“Who is he?” he demanded in a strained voice.
“His name is Ren Tanaka. His family owns a hotel in Harajuku.”
A best friend? A man? Antonio didn’t know which surprised him more. But as his driver changed route through the crowded streets, he told himself he wasn’t jealous, just curious. Hana had been a virgin; of that, there could be no doubt. And it wasn’t like Antonio had any claim on her.
Except that she was expecting his baby.
A baby.
After everything Antonio had done to prevent fatherhood, he was going to have a child.
A lump rose to his throat as he looked out at the passing streets of Tokyo in the soft spring mist.
Hana would be better off raising the child without him, obviously. What did he know of fatherhood? He’d never had parents. Better to stick with the choices he’d made long ago—to focus on his company and his fortune. They were the only things that mattered.
He’d gotten a vasectomy for a reason. He didn’t have the capacity to commit to anyone for life. He wasn’t fit to be a husband or father. Hana wouldn’t be shocked by this. She knew him better than anyone. All he could offer was financial support. It shouldn’t be hard for him to convince her.
As long as he didn’t touch her. Damn it, he was only a man. If he touched her, he would take her. Not just for a one-night stand. His repressed desire for her had become a ferocious beast, which if unleashed, would be unstoppable. He’d keep her as his mistress until his body was utterly satiated, whether that took days, weeks, or even months. For Antonio, sex was a physical thing, like eating or sleeping. But Hana’s heart was warm, not frozen like his own. All those months in his bed might lure her into blindly loving him. Then, when their affair inevitably ended, her love would just as inevitably turn to hate.
And perhaps she’d teach the baby to hate him as well...
No. He could never touch Hana again.
“We’re here, señor.”
Getting out of car, Antonio remembered Hana’s satchel in the trunk and got it out. He felt new shame as he remembered how he’d fired her, sending her off without even her bag of clothes. As he lifted it to his shoulder, a crack of sunlight burst through the clouds. Harajuku was very different from the financial district, crowded, lively and colorful. He looked up at the seven-story hotel silhouetted against the soft gray sky. Garcia started to follow, until he gestured sharply for his bodyguard to stay. He wanted to talk to Hana alone.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, or the baby. But he was a selfish bastard, and that wasn’t going to change.
And Hana would be an amazing mother. The baby would never even miss having him as a father. After all, what did Antonio have to offer a child, beyond his fortune? There was no question of Antonio being more involved than that. He’d give Hana an enormous financial settlement. They’d be set for life.
Now all he had to do was convince her of that.
Walking through the sleekly modern Japanese-style lobby of the hotel, he stopped a passing employee.
“Sir?” the man responded politely.
“Is an American girl staying here? A guest of Ren Tanaka?”
The employee looked Antonio over from his bespoke suit to his Italian leather shoes, then with a nod, motioned toward a quiet, darkened bar, separate from the lobby. “They’re in there.”
Glancing at the door, he set his jaw. Then he held out the satchel. “Make sure this is delivered to her room.”
“Of course, sir.”
Leaving the lobby, Antonio stood for a moment in the doorway of the darkened hotel bar. It took several seconds for his eyes to adjust. He blinked. Then blinked again.
Then he sucked in his breath when he saw Hana sitt
ing alone at a table, across the empty bar. Her white skirt suit was edged with a sultry blue glow from the neon light on the ceiling. His body was instantly electrified. “Hana.”
Turning, she saw him. “Antonio?” She rose unsteadily to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you,” he said, searching her beautiful face.
She glanced uneasily at something on the other side of the bar. “Why?”
“I...uh...” Now that he was looking at her, all his carefully planned arguments flew from his mind. Against his will, his gaze fell to her trembling, deliciously full pink lips, and down farther still. Her breasts seemed bigger—yes—the top two buttons of her white fitted jacket were stretched about to burst. How had he not noticed that before today?
Because he hadn’t wanted to notice.
But he wanted her. Suddenly. Savagely. So much his hands shook with it. He wanted to grab her, push her back against the wall. He didn’t care what the cost might be to his company, to his peace of mind, to anything. He wanted to have her even if the cost was setting fire to the world.
“Delacruz. It’s you, isn’t it?”
Hearing a man’s low growl, Antonio turned and saw a young Japanese man, tall and handsome in a sleek suit, perhaps ten years younger than Antonio’s thirty-six years, approaching from behind the bar.
“Who are you?” he asked, though he’d already guessed.
The man’s lip curled. “My name is Ren Tanaka.”
Antonio’s eyes narrowed as he sized up the younger man. “So you’re her best friend.”
He lifted his chin. “And you’re her bastard boss who got her pregnant and abandoned her like a—”
He spoke a Japanese word that Antonio didn’t understand, but the meaning was plain enough. Tanaka looked as if he’d like to strangle him with his bare hands.
The feeling was mutual. As Antonio saw the other man gently hand Hana a glass of water, then step protectively in front of her—as if he were trying to protect her from Antonio!—his own hands clenched into fists.
Then he saw Hana’s face, her worry and fear as she looked between the two men. He saw the way her body, newly lush with his child, was trembling.
With almost superhuman restraint, Antonio forced his hands to relax. He’d already shown her enough bad behavior today. And he didn’t give a damn about Tanaka. That wasn’t why he’d come.
“Can we go and talk?” he asked Hana in a low voice.
“You don’t have to go anywhere with him,” Tanaka said to her. Setting his jaw, he scowled at Antonio. “Leave my hotel. You are not welcome here.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’d do well to stay out of this, friend.”
“You’ve hurt Hana enough. I’m not going to give you another chance.”
“Why?” Antonio lifted his lip in a snarl. “You want her for yourself?”
The younger man lifted his chin. “What if I do?”
“Back off, or I’ll knock you flat into the wall.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“No!” Hana pushed anxiously between them, separating them before either could throw the first punch. She looked at them pleadingly. “No, please—don’t!”
The two men glared at each other. Antonio itched to shove the other man aside. He was shocked by his own rage. He’d never felt so possessive about any woman before.
But Hana was different. And Antonio suddenly knew, with stunning clarity, that he’d never let Ren Tanaka—or any other man on earth—have her.
Because Hana Everly was his.
CHAPTER THREE
HOW HAD THINGS spiraled so far out of control, so fast?
“Stop it! Both of you!” Hana cried. “This isn’t helping anything!”
“It would help if I punched his smug face,” Ren muttered in Japanese.
Glancing swiftly at Antonio, she saw that even though he didn’t speak the language, he’d understood Ren’s meaning perfectly. He narrowed his dark eyes.
The last few hours had been exhausting. Going from that ghastly scene with Antonio on the sidewalk to coming here to talk to Ren had been a classic case of frying pan to fire. She’d never forget the look on Ren’s face when she’d told him she was pregnant by her boss.
“I knew it,” Ren had breathed, then his eyes had flashed fire. “I’m going to kill him.”
It hadn’t been easy to talk him out of immediately going to find Antonio and start a fight.
It was almost funny. Hana had come here looking for comfort. But instead, she’d spent the last few hours trying to make Ren feel better.
“Are you sure?” he’d kept asking incredulously. “Are you really sure you’re pregnant?”
To shut him up, she’d finally let him take her to the hotel’s on-call doctor, who had an office down the street. They’d just barely returned from the appointment, where Hana had learned what she already knew: she was two and a half months pregnant.
But she’d heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, which had been wondrous to her. And bittersweet. She’d kept thinking of her baby’s father, and thinking Antonio should have been there, then remembering with fresh pain how he’d rejected them both.
Ren didn’t exactly offer much solace. All the way back from the clinic, Ren had demanded over and over, “And you told Delacruz? But he abandoned you? He denied being the father? Then he fired you?”
None of it was very comforting.
Just a few minutes earlier, as they returned to his family’s small hotel where he was manager, Ren had growled again that he was going to go look for Delacruz and make him regret treating her so badly. To distract him, Hana had asked for a glass of water, and a quiet place to sit down and catch her breath. He’d immediately become solicitous and led her to the darkened, empty bar while he went to fetch her water.
Then, like some apparition of a demon brought by the speaking of his name, Antonio himself had appeared in the doorway.
Now, the two men were bristling like full-grown stags ready to clash at each other with sharp, murderous antlers.
“Stay out of this, Tanaka.” Then Antonio turned to her, and his voice became gentle. “Can we go somewhere to talk, Hana?”
“What more could you possibly say to me?” she said, at the same time Ren snarled, “She doesn’t want to talk to you!”
“Please,” Antonio said, looking only at her. She took a deep breath.
“Fine.” She put a restraining hand on her friend’s sleeve. “It’s all right. I’ll talk to him.”
Ren’s face was a glower. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
Hana gave a rueful smile. “He’s my baby’s father. I have to hear him out.” She turned to Antonio. “Here?”
Antonio shook his head. He started to reach his hand toward her, then abruptly stopped himself. Turning away without touching her, he said gruffly, “Follow me.”
Outside the hotel, the sky had turned blue and the sun was shining, in the bright changeability of early April.
But that was nothing compared to the unpredictability of her baby’s father, Hana thought. As they stood in the small, crowded street, filled with pastel-colored shops, outrageously dressed mannequins, toy shops, fashionable high schoolers, so vibrant and young, Hana looked up at Antonio’s darkly handsome face.
“All right, we’re alone. What do you want?”
“Not yet,” he said grimly, glancing behind them. Following his gaze, she saw Ren’s face watching from the hotel lobby. A group of laughing girls walked by, wearing bold clothes and makeup, their eyes lingering on Antonio’s handsome face and powerful frame. He said grimly, “Let’s go where it’s not so crowded.”
Hana followed him down the small street to a larger avenue. Passing Harajuku Station, they crossed a bridge into a large, beautiful park. They walked some distance in silence, through a forest, past an
impressive shrine.
Hana took a deep breath of the cool, fragrant air, feeling the dappled warmth of the spring sun on her face, beneath the pink-and-white flowering cherry trees. She realized she was trembling as she waited for him to speak. Why? What more could Antonio possibly say to hurt her?
Nothing. Whatever it was, she told herself she wouldn’t care.
Finally stopping in a quiet clearing, he turned to face her. “What did you tell Tanaka about me?”
“The truth,” she said.
Antonio tilted his head. His black eyes were glinting in the sun, the hard line of his jaw already growing dark with five o’clock shadow. “That I was a heartless monster who seduced you, got you pregnant and then abandoned you?”
“I didn’t tell him you seduced me.” She set her jaw. “Is that why you tracked me across Tokyo? To give me a hard time for sobbing on a friend’s shoulder?”
His dark eyes flashed. “Friend?” he repeated incredulously. “The man’s in love with you!”
She could hardly deny it, not when Ren had acted like she was his personal property. She looked away. “I... I don’t know what that’s all about. We’ve been friends since childhood.”
“Is he your lover?”
Hana glared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous! He’s like a brother to me!”
“He wasn’t looking at you like a brother.”
Was that jealousy she heard in Antonio’s voice? No—impossible. He never cared enough about any woman to be jealous. She lifted her chin. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
She felt an ache in her throat. “If you only came to yell at me, then I’m going back...”
But as she turned, he stopped her with his husky voice.
“Wait. Please.”
“Wait for what?” She lifted her chin. “For you to find new ways to insult me and hurt me? I’ve had enough of that.”
“No. Damn it.” He clawed his hand through his dark, rumpled hair. “I’m doing this all wrong. I came...” Taking a deep breath, Antonio came closer. “I came to tell you I’m sorry.”