The Baby The Billionaire Demands. Jennie Lucas
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“So you stole my child away from me. Like a thief in the night.”
She lifted her eyes furiously. “You made it clear you hated me. Why would I want to give you rights over my baby?”
Rodrigo refused to concede her the slightest bit of sympathy. Lola was a greedy, coldhearted gold digger. Hadn’t she proved that, when she’d taken the check?
But she’d taken the check to provide for their child.
Suddenly, he sucked in his breath.
She’d known she was pregnant when she left. If she’d really been a gold digger, she wouldn’t have simply taken his money and disappeared from California. No.
She would have told him about the pregnancy immediately, knowing that, as mother to Rodrigo’s only child, she could have gotten far, far more than a mere million dollars.
But she hadn’t.
Had he been...wrong about her?
He pushed down the emotion rising in his heart. No. He couldn’t believe that. He clenched his jaw.
“So you moved to New York and replaced me with another rich man.”
Lola shook her head. “Sergei was just my boss. I worked for him during my pregnancy, until the baby was born.”
He frowned. “You worked?”
“As his secretary.”
He wasn’t surprised Lola had easily found a new job. She’d been a stellar assistant, and after their breakup, when he’d fired her, he’d still directed his HR staff to give her the glowing reference her work deserved. But, he didn’t understand. “Why would you work? You had my check.”
She lifted her chin. “I’ve kept that money in reserve to provide for the baby. I got us a nice apartment, and have stayed home since he was born, to take care of him. And—” she mumbled, looking away “—I studied for my GED.”
Rodrigo stared at her in shock. “Your what?”
Lola looked at him. “It means General Equivalency Diploma—”
“I know what it means,” he snapped at her. “But why would you need one?”
“Employers expect at least a high school diploma these days, if not a college degree. I was tired of feeling bad about it. So I studied for the test.” She bit her lip. “I took it last week. I haven’t heard yet if I passed.”
“You’re worrying about your résumé?” Jealousy pulsed through him, unwelcome and unreasonable. “That Russian was offering to marry you and cover you with diamonds.”
Lola’s lips lifted bitterly. “I loved one rich man, once.” Her voice was acid. “That experience was enough for a lifetime. My son and I are better off alone.”
Rodrigo’s world was spinning. “Son? What’s his name?”
“Jett. Jett Price.”
He blinked. “You called him what?”
“What’s wrong with it?” she said defensively.
“It sounds like something that might get mentioned in a stock report from Boeing or Airbus. Jet price?”
“No one will think of it that way!”
“His surname should be Cabrera.”
She lifted her chin defiantly. “He’s fine as he is.”
“I want a paternity test. And then—”
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll see,” he said softly.
Lola looked at him for a long moment. Most of the people in his world feared him, and with good reason. He’d built his media empire by being ruthless and unpredictable. Looking down at her, he half expected to see fear. He should have known better.
“We’re better off without you.” Her eyes were defiant. “I won’t let you take my child from me, Rodrigo.”
“And you think you can fight me?” he said softly. “You know what I’m capable of.”
“Yes.” Lola lifted her chin. “And you know me.”
“What does that mean?”
“If you try to take my son from me, you’ll regret it.”
He looked at her incredulously. “You’re threatening me?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “It’s a promise.”
“And how would you fight me?”
“I’ve made some powerful friends.”
Her eyes were cold. Rodrigo thought of her date. Sergei was obviously wealthy, and he’d proposed marriage. Was that the powerful friend she meant?
She’d said she was his secretary. That she’d refused his proposal. But for all he knew, they were lovers. The image came to him of her naked in the man’s arms. The thought made him sick.
Rodrigo had been Lola’s first lover. Of that, there could be no doubt. When they’d first made love, and he’d discovered her virginity, he’d been shocked, exhilarated, intoxicated with pride. Lola, so beautiful and desirable, had somehow still been a virgin at twenty-four.
But she might well have taken lovers since then. Any man would want her. While Rodrigo had been celibate as a monk.
“You and that Russian,” he said with deliberate carelessness, “you are lovers, of course.”
Her lips twisted. “I’ve never even let him kiss me.”
He stared at her. No. It couldn’t be true. Blinking hard, Rodrigo regained his reason. All the time she’d worked for him, he’d thought she was a terrible liar. But he must have been mistaken. Of course she was sleeping with the other man. Why else would he propose? What a little actress she was. Really, he should hire her for his next prestige film. “Liar.”
“I’m not,” she bit out, her eyes flashing. “I’ve only kissed one person in my whole life—”
She cut off her words, but it was too late. He stared at her, his heart twisting violently in his chest.
“You’ve never kissed another man? Even now?” He came closer. “Even after all this time?”
She looked up at him, her eyes shooting sparks. “I loved you, Rodrigo. Do you even know what that means? No. You don’t. How could you, when you felt nothing?”
A razorblade lifted to his throat. He tried to keep his grip on reason.