arms tightened as he looked down at her.
She’d lost the tan she’d had in California. Her skin was pale, and she was dressed in head-to-toe black, like a true New Yorker. The knit dress had long sleeves, a high neckline and a hem to the floor. The only skin showing was her face and her hands.
It shouldn’t have been sexy, but it was.
Everywhere he looked, Rodrigo saw something to tempt him, from the shocking beauty of her perfect face, with her high cheekbones, changeable hazel eyes and bee-stung lips, to her long, elegant throat. Even her hands drew him, with their graceful tapering fingers.
As his assistant, Lola had always been well-groomed and professional, as befitted the powerful executive assistant of an entertainment mogul. Now, he saw her beauty and wondered if she was trying to lure the burly, gray-haired Russian scowling beside her. Who was he? Her lover? Her soon-to-be husband?
The thought made him sick.
As the CEO of Cabrera Media Group, an international entertainment conglomerate, Rodrigo was surrounded by beautiful women on a regular basis. His companies produced films and TV series around the world. He owned studios and networks and was about to launch a new streaming media company in South America. He should have been immune to Lola Price’s charms.
But he wasn’t. He still wanted her. Now more than ever. Maybe that was why, for the last year, he hadn’t been able to touch another woman.
After a year of hot, frustrated need, no wonder his whole body felt the effect of being close to Lola now. Even as he learned of her latest betrayal.
Damn her.
“You were pregnant when you left California,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “And you never told me.”
The sparkling lights of the chandeliers, soaring high above in the hotel ballroom, seemed to leave shadows across her beautiful face as couples continued to move around them on the dance floor.
Only the three of them did not move. The burly Russian turned to Lola in shock. “This is your baby’s father? This man?”
She looked pale. “I think you should go, Sergei.”
The man glanced uncomfortably toward Rodrigo. “If you would like me to stay, Lolitchka, if you need help—”
“No, thank you,” she whispered. “It’s better I do this alone.”
“You heard what she said,” Rodrigo bit out. “Get the hell away from her.”
The older man’s eyes narrowed, but he just turned to kiss Lola’s cheek. “If you need me, I am always here.”
The grateful look she threw Sergei made Rodrigo suddenly want to bash his face in. His hands tightened into fists at his sides until the other man left.
Taking Lola’s hand, Rodrigo grimly pulled her away from the crowds. He tried not to notice how soft her palm felt against his. He tried not to feel the electricity that pulsed through his body at that innocent touch.
In a darkened, empty corner of the ballroom, he turned to face her accusingly. “How could you not tell me?”
Lola wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Because I don’t need anything from you. I don’t want anything.”
I want you, Rodrigo. The memory went through him of the trembling ecstasy of her voice, long ago. And I... I love you.
As he looked down at her beautiful face, shadowed by the chandelier’s light, he felt a rush of unwilling emotion as he remembered when she’d first spoken those words.
Two months into their affair, after closing a big business deal in Los Angeles, they’d returned to his beach house in triumph. Drinking wine, they’d lingered at midnight alone on his private beach, around a small bonfire he’d built from driftwood as the moonlight floated down. He could still smell the salt of the sea and vanilla fragrance of her hair as the hot Santa Ana winds blew against their overheated skin. He could hear the crackling of the fire and the roar of the waves when Lola had told him, her voice breathless and trembling, that she loved him.
For an answer, he’d kissed her, drawing her down against the soft blanket on the sand. In that moment, he’d been half out of his mind. In that moment, he’d almost wanted to love her back—
But Rodrigo didn’t want to think of that, or the intensity of the grief and betrayal he’d felt a month later, when he’d learned the truth about her past from Marnie, his longest-serving, most loyal employee.
Sir, Marnie had said sadly. Sir, there’s something you should know about Lola Price—
New anger went through him, pouring over his grief and regret. But even that could not block out his biggest emotion.
Desire.
Even now, with his heart pounding with rage, he wanted her. His hands shook with the effort of not grabbing her and wrenching her into his arms for a kiss. His blood was boiling with the need to take her. To push her against the wall—to kiss her—to make her want him as badly as he wanted her, and make her regret—
Taking a deep breath, Rodrigo narrowed his eyes. “How could you keep my child secret? I never thought even you could sink so low.”
Lola’s cheeks turned white, then red. “I was going to tell you I was pregnant the night you threw me out. But you stopped me—remember?”
Rodrigo did remember that awful night, how she’d shown up at his beach house with joy in her eyes.
I have something to tell you—
Me first, he’d said flatly. I saw the pictures. I know what you did. He’d looked over her scornfully. I know who you are.
Lola’s beautiful face had fallen, her expression suddenly tortured and guilty. Uncharacteristically for her, she hadn’t tried to argue or fight. She’d just accepted his accusations with slumped shoulders. Until, finally, trying to get a reaction out of her, he’d written out the million-dollar check and tossed it in her face.
That’s what you’ve wanted, isn’t it? You were tired of being my assistant and hoped to upgrade your position to be my mistress or, better yet, wife! If money is what you want, here—take it!
Rodrigo had waited, heart pounding, for her to explain. He’d waited for her to throw the check back in his face. He could have forgiven her past. No one was perfect. Certainly he was not. What he couldn’t forgive was her deliberately playing him for a fool, convincing him that she loved him, when all along she’d only had her eye on his wallet.
With a bowed head, she’d looked down at the million-dollar check. Then she’d crushed it in her hand, and left the beach house without a word. And he’d known his worst fears about her were true.
“You lied to me,” Rodrigo said coldly now. “You moved three thousand miles away to keep your pregnancy a secret.”
“You clearly didn’t care about me.” Her hazel eyes glittered. “So why would I think you’d care about our child?”
“It
