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Skye appreciated the fact that he patently didn’t want her there but was being forced to be civil. ‘Maybe a glass of water?’
She was also starving. This was usually the best time of day for her to eat, when she could keep it down, but she didn’t think Lazaro was about to order her a club sandwich and fries—her current craving.
He came back from the drinks cabinet and handed her a glass of water, which she accepted gratefully. He had a glass of something for himself that looked like brandy or whisky.
He went and stood in front of one of the windows and Skye felt awed. He really did look like a titan. Master of his universe.
‘You must have known who I was,’ he said.
Skye looked at his back. ‘Excuse me?’
He turned around. ‘You knew who I was and you targeted me.’
Skye stood up, incensed, water splashing unnoticed from her glass to the rug on the floor. ‘I beg your pardon? You walked into my restaurant and sat in my section.’
Now he flushed, and a bolt of heat went straight to Skye’s groin because it reminded her of his flushed face after they’d made love. He’d looked so…sexy.
She sat back down again. ‘You didn’t tell me your name until you gave me your card and asked me to meet you at your hotel.’ She winced inwardly. It sounded so sordid when she said it like that.
‘You would have had time to look me up then—maybe that’s why you decided to meet me…when you knew it was worth it.’
‘Maybe I didn’t look you up,’ Skye shot back. ‘Maybe I decided to go because you were the sexiest man I’d ever met and I knew if I didn’t go I’d regret it.’
She stopped and bit her lip, aghast at what had just tumbled out of her mouth.
She lifted her chin. ‘I will admit that I looked you up the following day. And then I realised that you were…someone.’
It was a ridiculously ineffectual way to describe a man who had become a self-made millionaire by the time he was twenty-five after setting up his own hedge fund. He’d since become a billionaire, by diversifying into the real estate market. His signature move was buying up old decrepit buildings in up-and-coming areas and restoring them.
‘So that’s when you decided to take advantage of the situation?’
Skye stood up again. ‘Unbelievable as it might seem to you, my life plan wasn’t actually to get pregnant at the age of twenty-two.’
‘Oh? And what was it then? To become the manager of that restaurant?’
‘That’s not fair. You have no idea who I am or what I want.’
Lazaro took a step towards her and said with an infuriatingly smug tone, ‘On the contrary. I think we established pretty effectively what you wanted that night.’
Skye’s cheeks were burning now, her hand gripping the glass hard. ‘There were two of us in that room, and as I recall it any wanting was pretty mutual.’
He gritted his jaw at that. ‘Why did you really come?’
‘To tell you. Don’t you want to know that you’re going to be a father?’
He studied her for such a long moment that Skye fought not to squirm, and then he shook his head.
‘You’re not just here to impart this news out of the goodness of your heart.’
Skye struggled to hold on to her temper. ‘You are being incredibly negative. Would you really have preferred that I didn’t tell you? That you had a child out in the world that you knew nothing about?’
To her surprise he blanched slightly at that, and then his face became shuttered.
‘If you are pregnant, and if the baby is mine, then of course I want to know about it. I’ll admit it’s not something I was prepared to deal with quite yet, but no child of mine will want for the lack of a father.’
His eyes glowed with an intensity that caught at Skye inside. She realised then that she hadn’t seen anything about his parents in the information she’d found about him online, and she wondered about that now. But before she could say anything else a wave of dizziness took her by surprise and she swayed on the spot.
Instantly he was at her side, taking the glass out of her grip, a hand around her arm. ‘What is it? You’ve gone as white as a sheet.’
She was trembling. ‘I think I need to eat something…’
‘When was the last time you ate?’
Skye just wanted to sit down. ‘Breakfast?’
If you could call a banana and a croissant that had later made its reappearance in the airport toilet breakfast.
Lazaro made a rude sound and led Skye over to a chair to sit down. He handed her the water. ‘What do you want to eat?’
She hated being weak and vulnerable like this. She’d wanted to come and face Lazaro, give him the news and then walk away with her head held high, knowing she’d done the right thing.
‘Maybe a sandwich? And some fries?’
He went over to a phone and made a call.
When he came back Skye said, ‘Thank you. I’m sorry. I really didn’t intend to cause such an upset and I didn’t intend taking up your time like this.’
He looked at her and put his hands on his hips—which only drew Skye’s attention to that lean waist.
‘So you were going to come, drop your bombshell and then leave?’
Skye winced at his thunderous expression. ‘I just wanted to let you know. I don’t expect anything from you. Maybe once the news has died down you can repair things with your fiancée…’ She saw his expression darken even more and corrected herself. ‘Sorry, ex-fiancée.’
He dismissed that with a wave of his hand. ‘I told you—Leonora won’t have anything to do with me after this.’
In fairness, Skye had to admit she had looked like a nice person. A person who didn’t deserve to be upset in public like that.
Her insides cramped with remorse. She hadn’t handled this very well at all.
Just then a chiming sound rang through the room, and Lazaro sent her a dark look before he went to the door. He came back with a tray. On it was a plate covered with a silver dome.
‘Come into the kitchen.’
Skye dutifully followed Lazaro, trying not to notice the sexy athleticism of his stride. Or feel hurt that he was going to take her into that utilitarian kitchen to eat—probably for fear she’d drop crumbs all over his pristine suite.
He must have been staying here in order to make the announcement. Perhaps he’d even planned on spending the night here with his fiancée. Celebrating their engagement. It was certainly romantic enough, with its stunning views of Madrid laid out around it.
Then Skye stopped on the threshold of a kitchen she hadn’t seen before. It certainly wasn’t the one she’d been led through. This one was massive, and had state-of-the-art appliances and a sleek modern finish. There was a dining table and chairs by one window. Lazaro was putting the tray down and taking off the silver dome to reveal a very fancy-looking sandwich and fries.
Her mouth watered. She went over and sat down.
‘I thought I came up through the kitchen?’
Lazaro looked slightly discomfited. ‘I asked them to bring you up that way to avoid the paparazzi.’
‘Oh.’
She said ‘oh’ a lot. Lazaro watched, half-fascinated, as Skye tucked into the sandwich and fries with little self-consciousness. Watching a woman eat, he realised, felt like a curiously intimate thing to do. Especially when most of the women he spent time with chased a lettuce leaf around their plates.
He got another glass of sparkling water and put it down on the table. She glanced at him and wiped her mouth. Her cheeks were tinged pink as she said thank you.
They’d gone pink like that when their eyes had met in that small restaurant near his hotel in Dublin. And they’d gone even pinker when he’d asked to her join him there for a nightcap when she finished work.
She’d said Oh then too.
‘Oh… Wow… I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t know you. You could be anyone.’
He’d handed her a card from his jacket pocket. A platinum-embossed card, with his name and contact details. He’d said, ‘It’s not proof I’m not a serial killer, but I can assure you I’m not. I’m just asking you to meet me for a drink at the bar…a chance to get to know one another a little better.’
She’d looked at him with those huge blue eyes that seemed to hide nothing. ‘But what’s the point?’ she’d asked.
Lazaro had surprised himself by saying, ‘Haven’t you ever done anything totally spontaneous for no good reason but just because you want to?’
He’d also surprised himself with how much he’d wanted her to say yes. He’d expected her to jump at the invitation—as most women would—but she’d seemed genuinely torn.
Eventually she’d said, ‘Okay…maybe.’
And so he’d sat in that hotel bar, waiting for a woman. And for the first and only time in his life he hadn’t known if she’d show up.
And then she had.
He could still recall seeing her standing in the doorway, in skinny jeans and that tatty jumper, half-falling off her shoulder. Holding a slouchy bag. It should have been the moment he’d realised he’d gone a bit crazy, but her long red hair had been down, and tumbling wildly over one shoulder, and an intense hunger had bitten into him so acutely that he hadn’t even been able to stand to greet her.
‘Thank you for that.’
Lazaro broke out of his reverie and saw Skye pushing the now empty plate away from her. He couldn’t recall ever seeing a woman actually finish her food.
‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.
She went pinker and avoided his eye. ‘I hadn’t actually got as far as booking anywhere. I saw a hostel at the train station when I came in from the airport, I’m sure I can get a room there.’
Lazaro’s gaze narrowed on her, his voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘You didn’t plan on staying and you’ve booked no accommodation? Did you even book a return flight? Or were you hoping that perhaps this little stunt might induce me to take you into my bed again, where you could ensure you became pregnant?’
Skye had been avoiding his eye, embarrassed at having been exposed in her lack of planning for this, but now her head snapped around so quickly she almost got whiplash.
For a long moment she couldn’t speak, she was so incensed. And then she stood up, trembling with emotion. ‘You are the most unbelievably cynical person I’ve ever met. I’m not here to fleece you, or to seduce you, Lazaro. I couldn’t care less about your wealth or your fancy hotel suite—’
‘Apartment.’
‘What?’
‘This is my apartment. I own the hotel.’
‘Oh.’
He owns the hotel. Of course he does.
Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Skye made a move back to the living area, searching for her bag and coat.
‘Where are you going?’
She found them and picked them up. She turned around. ‘I’m going to go and find somewhere to stay. My return flight is early in the morning—because, as I told you, I’d just planned on giving you this information. Not staying. Leaving. Which I’m going to do now. Goodbye, Lazaro.’
Before she could turn to go Lazaro came and stood in front of her. He was shaking his head.
‘You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here tonight and then we’ll discuss where to go from here tomorrow.’
Skye’s head was feeling fuzzy from tiredness. ‘But I’m due at work tomorrow night…’
‘If you are pregnant with my child—and let’s say I give you the benefit of the doubt until we can prove the baby is mine with a DNA test—then you’ll be staying right here in Spain.’
Skye’s mouth opened and closed. Opened again. ‘That’s crazy. You can’t order me to stay here.’
‘If you’re carrying my child, as you claim you are, then, yes, I have a right to be involved in its future—and in yours too.’
Skye felt panicky. ‘In its future. When he or she is born. Anything could happen between now and then.’
‘And in the meantime you’re going to run yourself ragged waiting on tables, staying in hostels and living in God knows what kind of place.’ He frowned. ‘Where do you live?’
Skye felt defensive. ‘In a perfectly nice basement apartment in Dublin.’
She felt guilty when she thought of the mould on the damp walls of her bedroom. And the malfunctioning gas cooker. And the fact that her area turned into a kind of war zone at night. But she was fine. They knew her face so they left her alone.
Lazaro made a sound as if he could read her thoughts. ‘If you’re working as a waitress then I know what kind of place and area you can afford, and I don’t want the mother of my child putting herself or my child at risk.’
Skye’s hand automatically went to her belly. ‘I would never do that.’
She had to admit to herself, though, that she had had misgivings about how she would cope on her tiny salary and in a cold and damp apartment.
He took her bag and coat out of her hands before she could stop him. ‘You’ll stay here this evening and tomorrow we’ll go to see my physician and confirm your pregnancy. Then we’ll have another discussion.’
Anger and a feeling of impotency made Skye say, ‘You can’t just upend my life like this. I have a job. A home. A life.’
He arched a brow. ‘I can’t upend your life? Like you just upended mine?’
