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I frowned, looking at him more closely.
His expression shuttered, and his dark eyebrows came down into a scowl. “His surname, however...”
I sighed. “I thought you might want to change that. But don’t worry.” I gave an awkward smile. “I won’t hold you to your marriage proposal.”
His eyes were dark and intense. “What if I want you to hold me to it?”
My lips parted in shock.
“What?” I said faintly.
His dark eyes challenged mine. “What if I want you to marry me?”
“You don’t want to get married. You went on and on about all the women who tried to drag you to the altar. I’m not one of them!”
“I know that now.” Leaning his arm across the baby seat, he cupped my cheek. “But for our son’s sake, I’m starting to think you and I should be...together.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” He gave a sensual smile. “As you said, I already broke one rule. Why not break the other?”
“But what has changed?”
“I’m starting to think...perhaps I can trust you.” His eyes met mine. “And I can’t forget how it felt to have you in my bed.”
Something changed in the air between us. Something primal, dangerous. I felt the warmth of his palm against my skin and held my breath. As the limo drove through the streets of London, memories crackled through me like fire.
I remembered the night we’d conceived Miguel, and all the other hot days of summer, when I’d surrendered to him, body and soul. I trembled, feeling him so close in the backseat of the limo, on the other side of our baby. Every inch of my skin suddenly remembered the hot stroke of Alejandro’s fingertips. My mouth was tingling, aching....
“That’s not a good reason to marry someone. Especially for you. If I said yes, you’d regret it. You’d blame me. Claim that I’d only done it to be a rich duchess.”
He slowly shook his head. “I think,” he said quietly, “you might be the one woman who truly doesn’t care about that. And it would be best for our son. So what is your answer?”
My answer?
I remembered the darkness I’d fallen into the last time Alejandro wanted me—then stopped wanting me. I’d never let myself be vulnerable to him ever again. I couldn’t. He’d almost destroyed me once. I could never live through that again.
Sooner or later...he’ll take your child and toss you in the gutter, like you deserve.
I couldn’t give him control over me, ever again. I couldn’t be tempted. My only hope was to get away. My only hope was...
Oh, heaven...what time was it?
“I need to...” As I saw the time on the dashboard of the limo, my heart nearly burst in panic. “Stop the car!” I leaned forward desperately toward the driver. “Let me out!”
Looking confused, Dowell pulled over on the side of the busy road.
“What are you doing?” Alejandro demanded, looking at me as if I was crazy. I felt crazy.
I unbuckled our baby, who’d just stopped crying and was looking drowsy. “Miguel needs a walk to help him sleep....”
“Is that a joke?”
I didn’t answer. Cradling our baby, I stepped out on the sidewalk in front of Kensington Palace, and started running into the park, toward the playground. Toward Edward.
CHAPTER THREE (#u5e58498e-913f-5e1f-b0a6-0688a65fe213)
THE PRINCESS DIANA PLAYGROUND was in the corner of Kensington Gardens, just north of the palace. It was still early, and the playground had just opened, but in the midst of August holidays it was already starting to fill with children of every age, laughing and whooping as they raced toward the teepees and leaped on the ropes of the life-size pirate ship. It was a magical place, as you might expect of a children’s playground, near a palace, based around a Peter Pan theme and named after a lost princess.
But I was here desperate for a different kind of magic.
Protection.
Edward St. Cyr had protected me more than once. We’d first properly met three years earlier, when I’d been walking up from the Tube late at night and I’d passed a group of rowdy teenagers on Kensington High Street. I’d been weighed down with groceries, and tried to keep my head down as they passed. But some of the boys had followed me up the dark street, taunting me crudely. As one started to knock the grocery bags out of my hand, there’d been a flash of headlights on the street and the slam of a car door, and suddenly a tall man in a dark coat was there, his face a threatening scowl, and the young men who’d scared me fled like rabbits into the snow. Then he’d turned to me.
“Are you all right, miss...?” Then his expression had changed. “But wait. I know you. You’re Claudie Carlisle’s cousin.”
“Yes, I...”
“You’re all right now.” He’d gently taken my trembling hand. “I’m Edward St. Cyr. I live a few streets from here. May I give you a ride home?”
“No, I couldn’t possibly. I...”
“I wouldn’t mind a walk myself,” he said briskly, and with a nod to the driver of his Rolls-Royce, he’d insisted on walking me home, though it took ten minutes.
“Thank you,” I’d said at the door. “I never meant to impose....”
“You didn’t.” He’d paused. “I remember what it’s like to feel alone and afraid. Will you let me check on you in the morning?”
I’d shaken my head. “It’s truly not necessary.”
“But you must.” He’d lifted a dark eyebrow. “If for no other reason than it will annoy your cousin, whom I’ve despised for years. I insist.”
Now, as I looked out at Kensington Gardens in the distance, I saw the paths where we’d once walked together, he and I. He’d been kind to me. We’d been—friends.
Or had we? Had he always wanted more?
I’m tired of waiting for you to forget that Spanish bastard. It’s time for you to belong to me.
I shivered. When we left Mexico yesterday, I had been prepared to make any sacrifice to save my baby from Alejandro. Even if the price would have been going to bed with a man I did not love.
But now I was starting to wonder if that was truly necessary. Perhaps Alejandro was not entirely the heartless monster I’d once feared him to be....
“You shouldn’t have run.”
Hearing Alejandro’s dark voice behind me, I whirled around. “How did you catch up so fast?”
He was scowling. “Did you think I’d let you disappear with Miguel?”
“I didn’t disappear. I...”
“Had some kind of baby emergency?” He folded his arms. “You ran for a reason. And we both know what it is.”
Could he have somehow found out about Edward St. Cyr? The two men were slightly acquainted. And far from being friends. I didn’t think he would take it well. I bit my lip, breathing, “I...”
“You panicked because I asked you to marry me,” he accused.
Oh. I exhaled. “We both know you weren’t serious.”
“We both know I was.”
“You won’t be, once you have a chance to think about it. You don’t want to get married. You said so a million times.”
“I never intended to have a child, either,” he pointed out, “so there was no reason to marry. But now... You heard what Claudie said. Marrying you will make clear to the whole world that he’s my son. That he’s my heir. Right or wrong,” he said tightly.
Right or wrong? Meaning I wasn’t good enough? That Miguel wasn’t? My eyes narrowed. “I don’t love you.”
“I can live with that,” he said sardonically. “We both love our son. That is the only love that matters.”
“You’re wrong,” I said stubbornly. “My parents loved me, but they also loved each other, till the day they died. I remember how they looked at each other....”
“Most people are not so fortunate,” he said harshly. “I’ve spent a year pursuing you, Lena. I don’t want to fight over custody now. I don’t want to worry, anytime you take him for a walk, that you might try to run away with him. I want this matter settled between us, once and for all.”
Ah. Now we were getting down to it. “You mean I should give you total control over me, body and soul, so you can avoid the inconvenience of a custody battle?” I said incredulously, then shook my head. “This idea of marriage is just a momentary madness with you—it will pass....”
My voice trailed off as I saw Hildy on the edge of the playground, frantically signaling.
Alejandro frowned. “What is it?” He started to turn his head. “What are you...”
“On second thought, let me think it over,” I said quickly. Touching his arm, I gave him a weak smile. “So much has happened since yesterday. Maybe I’m too exhausted to think straight.” I pointed toward the outdoor café at the front of the playground. “Could you...please...get me some coffee?”
Alejandro’s dark gaze flickered over my bedraggled dress, the dark circles under my eyes. “Of course, querida,” he murmured courteously. Turning away, he started toward the outdoor café.
The instant he was gone, I rushed to meet Hildy.
“Where’s Edward?” I said desperately.
She was already shaking her head. “Mr. St. Cyr wasn’t home. They said he’s in Tokyo.”
Of all the bad luck! “Can I borrow your phone?”
“Yes....” She reached into her pocket, then looked up, her mouth a round O. “I didn’t bring it! It’s still at home!”
Alejandro was already handing over money at the café. I saw him pick up two coffees from the counter. No time.
My shoulders fell. “Thanks anyway. You’d better go.”
“Good luck, miss....”
Defeated, I looked out across the green park, deep emerald beneath the lowering gray London sky. I suddenly wondered what the weather was like in Spain. Warm. Sunny. Blue skies. With the chance of a hot, seductive Spaniard demanding that I share his bed.
No! I couldn’t let myself think about it! Just sharing custody of Miguel would be bad enough. I would never, ever be Alejandro’s lover! And certainly not his wife!
“Here.” Alejandro handed me a white paper cup that warmed my hands. The coffee smelled like heaven. I took a sip, then sighed with appreciation as I felt the heat melt me from the inside. It was sweet, and creamy.
“You remembered how I liked it,” I said in surprise.
He took a sip of his own black coffee, and gave a wicked grin. “That’s how all women like it.”
“That’s not true!”
He shrugged. “It’s mostly true. Cream and sugar will calm a woman down every time.”
I glared at him. “You are such a—”
“A heartless bastard?” He paused, then tilted his head. “Do you still think I’ll be such a disaster as a father?”
He sounded wistful, even—hurt? No. Impossible. A man like Alejandro had no heart to injure. But still, guilt rose in me, making my cheeks burn. “Maybe you’re not completely evil.” I looked down at the cup. “You did get my coffee right. Even though you’re completely wrong with your stereotype about women liking cream and sugar.”
“Obviously,” he agreed. He tilted his head. “Your arms must be getting tired from holding Miguel all this time.”
“A bit,” I admitted sheepishly. “He’s starting to get too heavy to carry like this for long.”
Finishing off his coffee, he threw the empty cup in the trash and reached out. “Give him to me.”
I hesitated, then handed him over. I watched anxiously, but Alejandro was careful, holding him, even turning Miguel around so he could see the world around him. Alejandro caught my look. “How am I doing?”
“Not bad,” I said grudgingly.
“Would you care to walk?” He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Since he needed a walk so badly that you almost jumped out of a moving car. This taking babies on walks must be a serious business. Or else you had some other reason for coming here that you don’t want me to know about.”
I looked at him sharply. Did he know something? Or was he just fishing?
He gave me a bland smile.
I shrugged. “It was what you said. Pure panic at your marriage proposal.” I took a sip of coffee. “Kind of like how you reacted last year when I told you I loved you. Instant disappearance.” For a moment, we stared at each other. Then I turned away. “Yes. Let’s walk.”
The rain had eased up, and though gray skies were hovering, eager children of all ages, speaking many different languages, were now playing everywhere as we strolled past the pirate ship.
“So what is your answer?” he said casually, as if he’d been asking me out for a movie.
“About what?”
He looked at me.
“Oh.” I licked my lips. “That.”
“That.”
