Her Boss's One-Night Baby (HQR Presents)

by Jennie Lucas

  As she kissed him, as she pulled off his tuxedo trousers and silk boxers beneath, she controlled the pace. If he tried to hold her, she stopped. If he tried to kiss her too passionately, she pulled away. She was tender. Gentle.

  Finally, when she’d tortured him enough, she climbed over his naked hips and spread her bare legs wide over his thighs. She lowered herself on him, inch by inch, until beads of sweat appeared on his forehead from the effort of restraining his desire. She began to ride him. Slowly. Deliberately. Until he was gasping and gripping the comforter beneath him and nearly weeping as he held himself back. Tension coiled inside her, delicious and sweet, until she soared with a loud cry. A split second later, with a shout, he exploded inside her.

  She’d been trying to show him that she loved him with her touch, since she was too terrified to tell him with words. But as they held each other afterward in bed, naked, sweaty and spent, as he kissed her tenderly on the forehead and said huskily, “You’re incredible, querida, there’s no other woman like you on earth,” suddenly, Hana was no longer afraid.

  “I need to tell you something,” she whispered in the darkness. Wrapping his arms more securely around her, he pulled her back against his naked chest.

  “What is it, querida?” he said drowsily, nuzzling her neck. His muscular body felt so warm against her own, making her feel safe. She took a deep breath.

  “I love you, Antonio.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ANTONIO’S EYES FLEW open in the dark bedroom.

  I love you.

  He’d been exhausted and content, holding his naked wife in his arms in the moonlight. But when he heard her whisper those three words with a mix of shyness and pride, he felt a rush of emotion.

  I love you. Those soft, warm words poured like honey into all of his broken places.

  I love you. Strange. Women had said those words to him before, but he’d always been cynical about it, assuming they were an obvious ploy meant to lure him into marriage.

  This was different.

  Hearing Hana say she loved him was like the first time he’d made love to her, when her innocence had almost made him feel as if he, too, were a virgin. Now, as he looked down at her in his arms, naked in their bed, he felt his heart swell all the way to his throat as he realized that he—

  His shoulders stiffened as a cold sweat broke out along his spine.

  No. Coldness rushed into his soul like wolves howling in a winter forest, biting the edges of his heart, making it shrink, making it bleed.

  Antonio couldn’t love her. He couldn’t love anyone. If he ever really opened up, if he ever showed her all his flaws and darkness, her so-called love would evaporate like mist in the brutal Spanish sun.

  Even his own parents hadn’t wanted him. Neither had any of the foster parents who’d tried, or that waitress he’d naively tried to love at eighteen. They’d all seen some monstrous flaw in him. Why should he think that Hana, so intelligent and wise, wouldn’t as well?

  You’ll never be good enough for her. You know it. I know it. And soon, Hana will know it, too.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to push away Tanaka’s words and return to that drowsy, contented feeling of a moment before. But it was impossible.

  Hana was looking at him with her brown eyes full of tortured hope. She’d just told him she loved him. She was waiting for his answer.

  But even if she believed she loved him now, it wouldn’t last. Soon she would open her beautiful brown eyes and see that he was unworthy of her. She’d turn away. She’d scorn him.

  She’d leave.

  At the thought, ice spread across Antonio’s body, from the tips of his fingers and toes toward his center, flash-freezing every cell and nerve, racing up his spine. Ice reached his heart, cracking into shards.

  Hana sat up in bed, her lovely face worried. “Antonio?”

  “I—” Was he having a heart attack? Was he dying? His breathing was hoarse. His heart felt like it had stopped beating. He had to control the situation. He couldn’t let her realize the truth—

  “What’s wrong?” she said anxiously, putting her hand on his bare shoulder.

  Jerking away, he nearly fell out of the bed. “Where is the post-nup?”

  With bewildered eyes, she pointed to the end table by the fireplace. Stumbling over, he found the pages, saw her signature at the bottom. Hana Delacruz. The postnuptial agreement had been more generous than his lawyers had liked, but they’d mostly been relieved that one now existed. “You have to get her to sign this immediately, señor. Your whole life is at risk.”

  But Antonio didn’t feel better now that he held the financial document in his hands. Because it wasn’t just his business empire that was at stake.

  He couldn’t look at her, at those brown eyes that had started to lose hope. Grabbing clothes from the enormous walk-in closet, he pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He grabbed a Louis Vuitton duffel bag.

  “Where are you going?” Hana exclaimed.

  He kept his voice expressionless. “New York.”

  “So early? Surely you don’t have to leave in the middle of the night!”

  “My competitors don’t rest. Neither can I.”

  She seemed to shrink a little on the bed, pulling the blanket up higher, over her belly, all the way to her neck.

  “How can you leave me like this?” she whispered. “I just told you I love you!”

  Antonio didn’t look at her as he roughly put clothes in the duffel bag. “I never asked for your love.”

  “I know.” She took a deep breath. “When we married, I didn’t want your love, either. I was afraid if we fell in love, our child might feel excluded, as I once did, from parents focused only on each other. But now I know it doesn’t have to be that way. I can love you both. So much.”

  He paused. “You can love me if you want. But I’m not like you. I don’t have...”

  “Feelings?” she choked out.

  “The ability to love you in such a sentimental fashion. I’ll never be like Tanaka, mooning over you all the time. I care for you and our child. Caring is an action, not an emotion. I will always provide for you and the children. But CrossWorld Airways is what I love. It’s the only thing I can control. The only thing that lasts.”

  “Family doesn’t last? Love?”

  He gave a low, bitter laugh. “No. Love doesn’t last.”

  Hana’s expression suddenly changed. “Why don’t you admit the truth?”

  “And what’s that, Hana?”

  “You’re afraid to love me. Just as you’re afraid to find out the truth about your parents. But the worst thing is, you like being afraid. Because it’s safe.” She lifted her chin. “You’re a coward, Antonio.”

  His body recoiled.

  Then cold anger snapped his spine straight, made his shoulders broaden to their full width. He looked at her, his soul like ice. “Enough.” He snapped the bag shut. “If you ever speak of love again, this marriage is over.”

  And without looking at her again, he left.

  * * *

  Hana woke to hear the shutters opening. Rich Spanish sunlight poured in from the wrought-iron veranda overlooking their grand tree-lined avenue in Madrid.

  “Buenos días, Señora Delacruz,” Manuelita chirped happily.

  But it wasn’t a good morning. With a sudden sick feeling, Hana remembered everything that had happened during the darkness, hours before.

  Her husband didn’t want her love.

  So much so that when she’d told him she loved him, he’d literally packed his bag and left the country.

  Hana’s whole body hurt from a night of tossing and turning. Glancing at the gilded clock over the marble fireplace mantel, she saw it was nearly eleven. She must have fallen asleep shortly before dawn. Now, sunlight flooded their bedroom.

  But it might as
well have been pouring rain.

  She sat up stiffly in the big four-poster bed, yanking the comforter up over her nightgown. Her joints ached, and her lower back. Her hugely pregnant belly felt heavy. So did her heart.

  Picking up a breakfast tray from a nearby table, Manuelita brought it to the bed. “Señor Delacruz told me yesterday that whenever he travels, we must take extra good care of you.” She smiled. “He asked me to wake you up each morning with a tray, and your favorite flower.”

  Hana looked down at the tray in her lap. The breakfast had all her favorites—fruit, yogurt, crusty toast and jam, scrambled eggs, with orange juice and herbal tea. And in a tiny, perfect crystal vase, a tiny, perfect pink rose.

  “Thank you, Manuelita,” she whispered. Smiling, the older woman left with a satisfied nod, as if proud of representing her employer, who had obviously become a romantic, leaving his pregnant wife to sleep in and arranging breakfast in bed, even remembering her favorite flower. So romantic, so loving, so thoughtful.

  But it didn’t feel that way to Hana. Antonio had no problem paying people off with money or gifts. He’d asked his housekeeper to take care of Hana. But giving her anything real of himself—his time, his trust, his love—forget it.

  Hana gulped water, dehydrated after her night of tears. She tried to eat a few bites of food, but it all tasted like ash in her mouth.

  Staring at the little flower, she resisted the urge to crumple it in her hand. Rather than trying to comfort her over the painful fact that he couldn’t love her, or apologizing over the way he’d kicked her out of the company she’d come to love, Antonio had simply left. So she couldn’t argue with him. She didn’t even have a chance.

  It was a coldhearted way to win. Ruthless. Exactly the way Antonio always dealt with his mistresses, opponents and rivals.

  She’d just never thought he’d treat her like that.

  Pushing the breakfast tray aside, she walked across the cool tile floor with bare feet. She pulled on a red silk robe with an embroidered dragon on the back. Opening a side door, she peeked into the baby’s empty nursery. She’d spent hours tenderly picking out the furniture, the crib, the glider, the books, the toys. A huge stuffed polar bear rested against the corner of the pale pink walls. She loved this room, where very soon they’d bring their baby home. Her husband had barely looked at it.

  Just as he’d barely looked at Hana when he left.

  Turning back to the master bedroom, she opened the French doors. With a deep breath of the fresh, cool air, she went out onto the balcony, overlooking the historic neighborhood of Madrid where they lived.

  Vivid pink bougainvillea hung on the edges of the wrought-iron balcony. Blinking fast, she looked out at the classical cream-colored buildings and palm trees beneath the golden sun and blue sky. A cold wind blew against her skin. Autumn had truly come at last. And along with it, the cold truth she hadn’t wanted to face.

  Her husband was broken, and her love could not save him. Because he did not even want to be saved.

  Hana’s hands tightened on the wrought-iron balcony. She had to find a way out of this. Had to. Why had he forced her to leave the company? They could easily set up a nursery in the office after the baby was born. Since she knew Antonio had no intention of spending less time at work, their only hope to be close as a family was for their family to be at work, as well. Surely he had to see this.

  But he didn’t want to see it. He was deliberately pushing her and the baby away.

  Her cell phone rang from her bag inside. Turning back to the bedroom, she grabbed it, praying it was Antonio calling to make amends. But it wasn’t her husband’s name displayed on her phone, but someone even more surprising.

  “Hello?” she said, a little nervously.

  “Hana.” Ren Tanaka’s deep voice was tentative. “I almost didn’t expect you to answer.”

  “Ren,” she whispered, feeling low. “How did you know?”

  “Know what? Is something wrong?”

  She bit her lip. They hadn’t spoken since her wedding day in Tokyo. She didn’t know where to begin. “I...it’s hard to explain.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you for the last six months,” Ren said quietly. “I just...didn’t know how to deal with everything.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m in Paris. I wondered if I could come see you.” He paused. “I have some news.”

  Hana knew her husband wouldn’t like her seeing Ren. He’d made his thoughts clear on her having a best friend who was a man: it wasn’t allowed.

  But it was so unfair. Antonio had abandoned her, cutting her off even from work. Did he expect her to remain a lonely prisoner in this house?

  Forget that.

  “Please come as soon as you can,” she said, her voice cracking. “I need a friend today.”

  After they hung up, she paced all afternoon, staring at her phone, wishing Antonio would call her, trying to resist the urge to call him. He’d surely arrived in New York by now. She wondered how the negotiations were going with the labor union. Hana had always been the buffer.

  Finally, she could resist no longer. Snatching up the phone, she dialed his number.

  Antonio didn’t answer. It rang and rang, then went to voice mail. She tried again. The same. She felt sick, questioning the future of their marriage. She was desperate to find something, anything, that would give her hope.

  In the meantime, Antonio couldn’t even be bothered to answer the phone.

  She didn’t leave a message. What was there to say?

  When Ren showed up at the door of the palacio later that night, they hugged awkwardly over her enormous belly. Ren looked different, Hana thought. He’d grown a beard, and his clothes were more youthful.

  Manuelita brought tea into the salon, then left, looking back between them suspiciously.

  “Does she think I’ve come here to seduce you?” Ren said, his lips quirking.

  Hana tried to smile, blinking so fast he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “Yes, a heavily pregnant woman is always a seduction magnet.”

  They sat on opposite couches in the salon for an hour drinking tea, making small talk about inconsequential things, people they knew, the expansion of the Tanakas’ hotel business in Tokyo. Finally, with the pastries all gone and the tea grown cold, Ren looked at her across the coffee table.

  “You look well, Hana,” he said softly. “Are you happy?”

  She set down her china teacup and changed the subject. “What’s your big news?”

  Leaning forward, Ren pulled a small black velvet box out of his pocket. Opening the lid, he held it out to her. A huge, sparkling diamond engagement ring.

  Hana’s mouth fell open with horror. “Oh, no—Ren, you know I’m already...and besides—”

  “Hana, relax!” With a laugh, Ren snapped the lid closed. “It’s not for you!”

  “Whew!”

  Staring at each other, they both burst into laughter, the awkwardness suddenly gone.

  “You should see your face,” he said, grinning.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But you scared me! For six months, you haven’t answered my messages. I had no idea what you were feeling!”

  “I know.” His face grew serious. “The night you left Tokyo, you broke my heart.”

  Hana felt awful. “I never meant to.”

  “I know.” He squared his shoulders. “I came to thank you. For telling me what I needed to hear.”

  “Even though I broke your heart?”

  Ren shook his head. “It hurt, but not as much as my years of silent longing and hoping before. It’s why I hated Delacruz from the moment you started working for him. I could hear the way you spoke about him.” He paused. “But when you told me you’d never love me, as hard as it was to hear, it freed me. I was finally able to move on. And now... I’m happier than I’
ve ever been.”

  “You’ve found someone else,” she guessed.

  He nodded shyly. “That’s the other news I wanted to share. Emika Ito—you remember her?”

  “The head of the Tokyo lead team?”

  Ren nodded. “The night of your wedding, she came over and started talking to me. She’s a good person, a kind person.”

  “And pretty,” Hana added slyly.

  “Yeah. That, too.” He grinned. “We ended up doing shots at the bar and then...”

  “Then?”

  Happiness glowed from him. “The next day, she wanted to check on me, just to see I was all right. And gradually, our friendship turned into more.” Ren shook his head. “It’s strange. When you left Tokyo, I thought my heart would be broken forever.” He looked down at the ring. “I never imagined how wonderful it could be to have someone love me like Emika does. And the way I love her! It makes me realize... My love for you was never real.” He gave her a crooked grin. “I hope you’re not offended.”

  “I’m thrilled!”

  “Yesterday, I was finishing a conference in Paris, and I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. I went to a jeweler and bought this ring. I’m going to ask her to marry me as soon as I’m back in Tokyo. I’ll throw a big party, do everything I can to show her how much I love her. And I thought...” He lifted his gaze. “Who else could I share this big news with, if not my best friend?”

  Tears lifted to Hana’s eyes. Ren was in love. He was getting married. And in spite of all their past troubles, he’d come to share the news with her. “I’m so glad.”

  “Thank you.” He tucked the black velvet box back in his pocket. Then his voice changed. “But what about you? Are you happy, Hana?”

  “Of course,” she said automatically, then flinched at the wobble in her voice.

  Ren’s jaw tightened. “Tell me what’s wrong.”