Rafael’s muscles were painfully tense as he waited for her answer.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Could you love a baby?” she whispered.
He nearly growled at her. “Don’t change the subject. Answer my question.”
“If I accidentally got pregnant,” she faltered, “don’t you think it’s possible it could have nothing to do with money, and everything to do with…with…”
“Love?” He sneered.
Wordlessly she nodded. Her eyes were wide, limpid pools in the night. Wild. Desperate.
For a moment, his body instinctively wished to comfort her. It was the same way he’d felt when she’d revealed how she’d loved her last boss then lost him—to her sister. He’d almost pulled her into his arms, until he’d reminded himself that this might be part of her con. Her innocence, her pain, her supposed love—was it all an act to get him to marry her?
His stomach clenched. “A mere housekeeper does not go to all the trouble of getting pregnant by a wealthy man without expecting a payout.”
Turning pale, she gasped.
Then her lovely face hardened, in that aloof, cold expression he knew so well.
“So I’m a mere housekeeper now, am I?” she said in a low voice. Her dark eyes glittered. “Just what sort of payout do you think I want?”
He set his jaw. “Marriage.”
She sucked in her breath. “Marriage?”
“You know very well,” he said grimly, “if you were pregnant, I would have no other choice.”
They stared at each other in the shadows of the garden.
Looking down at her beautiful face, Rafael’s body hurt with tension and fury.
He’d always vowed he would never get trapped by any woman. It had happened to him once, and that was enough. At seventeen, he’d fallen for an older woman who’d callously dropped him to marry a wealthy man. When Rafael had pleaded with her to marry him instead, she’d laughed at his tiny diamond ring. The faded Cruz fortune wasn’t nearly enough to tempt her, she’d said. She liked his body well enough, but money was what mattered most to her.
At eighteen, he’d made it his mission in life to get rich. Ten years later, he’d ruined the woman—and her husband—in payback.
Rafael would never feel desperate over a woman again. It was why he could never have children. He would never give a woman that kind of power over him. Never feel vulnerable again. Never.
He looked at Louisa. Especially her. She had too much power over him already.
Against his will, Rafael’s gaze dropped to her lush mouth. Even now, wondering if she’d tricked him, wondering if she were the most accomplished liar he’d ever met, Rafael couldn’t stop wanting to kiss her. His body ached for her.
“So if I were pregnant, you would really wish to marry me?” she whispered.
In spite of all her defiance, he saw that she wished to marry him. She wanted to pin him down. She was no different from all the rest.
He said evenly, “There’s no way I would allow my child to be raised by some other man. So I would make you my wife. Is that what you want, Louisa?” he said dangerously. “Is that what you’ve wanted all along?”
With a deep intake of breath, she looked away from him, staring out at the view of Istanbul across the Bosphorus. So close across the water, but it was another continent entirely—Asia.
Clenching his hands into fists, he stared at her. Louisa was like that. So close, and yet so far. She was standing beside him. He could feel the warmth of her skin. And yet she was so far away. He realized he’d never really known her at all.
“Would you be a good father?” she whispered into the night, still not looking at him. “Would you love our child?”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her lovely face, so different without glasses. Her eyes were wide and deep as the night. Her long dark hair brushed against her creamy shoulders in the soft breeze. She was the most beautiful, elusive woman he’d ever known. And he hated her for her beauty.
When he spoke, his voice was low and even.
“I would marry you for the baby’s sake. But I would make you pay for trapping me into marriage,” he continued in a low voice. He reached out and brushed a tendril of hair off her cheek with his fingertips. He felt her shiver beneath his touch as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “I would make you pay…and pay…and pay.”
“What do you mean?” she gasped, shuddering.
He gave a cold, cruel smile as he straightened. “I would take pleasure of you in my bed until I had my fill.” He stared down at her. “I would own you, as you would never own me.”
She sucked in her breath.
She looked up at him, her eyes troubled in shadow. “But would you love our baby?”
Suddenly he was done with her endless evasions. Setting his jaw, he reached into his pocket for a cell phone. He dialed a number and spoke into the phone. “Dr. Vincent, please.”
“What are you doing?”
He looked at her coldly. “Since you refuse to tell me if you’re pregnant, I will have you examined by my doctor in Paris.”
Louisa ripped the phone from his hands and ended the call. She took a deep breath.
“Well?” he said coolly.
“I’m…” She licked her lips.
He stared at her, his heart full of darkness and fury.
“I’m…” she said in a low voice. She took a deep breath, briefly closing her eyes as she said, “I’m not pregnant.”
He exhaled in a rush. “You’re not?”
She stared at him. Her eyes were pools of darkness.
Relief coursed through him, almost making him stagger.
He hadn’t been wrong about her! She could be trusted! He hadn’t been such a fool as he’d feared!
Then, staring at Louisa’s tight shoulders and barely concealed fury, he reconsidered that statement. If she was innocent, he’d just treated her very badly indeed.
Looking at her with sudden regret, he rubbed the back of his head wryly. He’d let Novros’s suspicions get to him. The Greek bastard had probably made it all up, he thought in irritation, spinning the facts for his own reasons, hoping to cause friction between Rafael and his housekeeper. Hoping he could get Louisa for himself!
He sighed. So who was a stupid fool after all…?