The Drakon Baby Bargain

Eleni stared at him, shaking from head to toe, burning with the unspent desire that he had aroused in her. Desire, she now realized, he had aroused with the sole intention of punishing her.

“I would not kiss you again if you were the last man on earth, Mr. Marquez,” she shouted but he’d already gone.

Try as she might to fight the temptation, she couldn’t help but run her fingers over her stinging mouth. Couldn’t stop tasting him on her lips.

CHAPTER TWO (#u4aca266b-194c-5516-8c38-0074c0e1dad5)

Three months later

“I HATE THIS PLACE, I hate that I had to give up all my friends and move here and I hate you.”

The loud, blistering announcement exploded inside the conference room like a small detonation, jerking twelve heads toward the twelve-year-old girl standing just inside the room. Face scrunched, eyes brimming with fat tears, his daughter, Angelina, stood glaring at Gabriel Marquez.

A pounding began behind his left eye.

He had made his father’s small construction company into a billionaire real estate firm, he owned major chunks of multinational companies, he had palatial residences in nine different cities in the world, but this was one problem, it seemed, for which he had no solution.

Angelina had come to live with him three months ago after her mother had passed away suddenly—a model he had met in New York, years ago.

His own daughter was a stranger, because until the accident that had killed her, Monique hadn’t had the decency to tell Gabriel that he had a daughter.

Now Angelina looked at him as if he were a monster, as if he had taken away the one person who had loved her.

He hadn’t been able to have one normal conversation with her in all the weeks she had been in Drakon with him.

“Angelina, calm down and wait for my meeting to finish,” he gritted out. His jaw hurt with how tightly he had leashed the urge to vent his frustration that he was floundering just as much as she was.

That they were strangers to each other was not his fault.

His board members stared between him and Angie like spectators at a tennis match, ready to feed fuel to the wildly spreading rumors that Gabriel Marquez was an abysmal father.

Anything he did and said was news to the press. But the fact that he’d successfully hidden the existence of a daughter, who’d been born out of wedlock, for twelve years, sent them into a feeding frenzy. That his daughter hated him with every breath and, even worse, didn’t know him at all would be the cherry on a very nasty cake.

“If I waited for you to finish one of your unending meetings, I would wait forever. All I want is to—”

Gabriel shot up from his seat, frustration boiling over in his blood. “You behave like a spoiled brat, with no concern for others’ time. Has your mother taught you no manners?”

Her flinch fell on him like a poisoned dart, sinking deep. Goddamn it, nothing he said ever worked with Angelina. The tears that she had somehow contained in those big eyes fell onto her round cheeks, drawing paths down to her neck. “I wish you had died instead of Mom. I wish you weren’t my father. I wish—”

“Angelina! That’s enough,” a feminine voice shot out.

Shock traveled through Gabriel as his daughter, who’d barely exchanged one civil word with him in three months, instantly looked contrite. Her round shoulders straightened and something shifted in the planes of her juvenile face, already struggling to show signs of adulthood.

He startled when Eleni Drakos pushed her chair back and walked toward his daughter, her expression one of sternness and yet somehow kindness at the same time.

Gabriel frowned as her pumps click-clacked against the marble floor. In three months, he hadn’t been able to quite put his finger on the woman the media disparagingly called the Plain Princess.

An opinion he didn’t agree with anymore.

Unlike her tall, dark brothers, the Princes of Drakon, Eleni Drakos, on first impression, was a mousy woman. Ten years ago, she’d barely ever met his gaze, hiding behind King Theos’s fierce temper.

Since he’d arrived in Drakon a few months ago, however, he’d watched the brisk efficiency with which she ordered the palace staff around—and even his staff.

Every time he turned around, there she was, a petite dynamo. Only now, as he saw her reach Angelina, did he realize how much his staff and he had depended on her to smooth out numerous problems between his company and the palace in those first few weeks.

How much the Crown Prince Andreas and the Daredevil Nikandros relied on her.

His frown deepened as her slim hand went around Angelina.

She whispered something and instantly his daughter’s expression cleared. A hesitation emerged in her eyes but Angelina wiped her tears, and then to Gabriel’s shock, a tentative smile curved her mouth.

A tight ache emerged in the nether regions of Gabriel’s heart. Three months with a string of nannies each more expensive and efficient than the next, three months of gifts and presents to make up for twelve birthdays, three months of fighting the urge to tell her that it was not his fault, not once had Angelina looked at him with anything remotely bordering on the affection in her eyes as she looked at Eleni Drakos now.

What magic had the Princess wrought on his child? To what purpose? When had Angelina become acquainted with her?

Shock buffeted him in fresh waves when Eleni softly nudged Angelina toward him.

The wariness in his daughter’s eyes dealt a swift kick to his gut more painful and wretched than anything Gabriel had faced before. But for the life of him, he hadn’t been able to forge even a tenuous connection between them.

It was as if fate was laughing at him.

He’d willfully become this man who avoided emotional entanglement at any cost. Now, try as he might, it seemed he couldn’t connect with his own daughter.

“I’m sorry,” Angelina whispered, her eyes bright and big.

She didn’t call him Papa but he knew better than to expect a miracle. She turned to the Princess as if waiting for another cue, as if she could only bear to do this small thing—look at him without hatred—for the Princess.

Breath balled up in his throat, for he’d never felt this strange anticipation.

Hands firmly on those small shoulders, the Princess gave his daughter a cue.

Again, something about her smile snagged him while she and Angelina walked toward him. That his daughter, who treated him as if he were plague-ridden, had found someone to connect with should have been a good thing.

Instead, all he felt was a yawning chasm in the pit of his stomach.

“Now, Angelina,” the Princess said, and her voice shivered over his spine. The taste of her came to his lips, his hands fisting against the sensation of her curved hips. It was a sensation he hadn’t been able to get out of his head in three months, even as he’d become more and more aware of her husky, low-pitched voice, of the way her dress shirts seemed voluptuous on her body, of the tug of her mouth on one side when she was being sarcastic, of her every movement. Of the fact that she’d avoided meeting his eyes since that night at the masquerade ball.

No woman had ever messed with his head quite so much by trying to ignore him.

I just wanted a kiss, Gabriel.

Had she?

And now here she was with a wide smile bestowed on his daughter.

Muddy brown eyes glinted with warmth, the edges of them tilting up, revealing hints of heritage no one, he was sure, knew about.

The smile seemed to spread to her entire body as she looked at Angelina. It snagged his attention, and every other man’s attention, he noted with a flare of annoyance.