moment stretched as he studied the coin.
“That phone call I made last night,” he finally said. “I contacted a numismatic auction firm. A coin dealer.”
“You want to sell this?”
His flashing eyes jumped to hers. “Never. It will stay in the Ramirez family. It certainly won’t leave my possession until my son is twenty-one.”
Alexander had had his share of romantic affairs, but it was clear how he saw his future. Married with children, particularly a boy. A son who would accept this tangible reminder of who and what he was above all else.
A Ramirez.
“Then why did you contact a dealer?” she asked.
“To hunt down another coin in case…” He exhaled and cleared his throat. “If Bridget Davidson’s baby is mine and a male, he ought to be acknowledged appropriately. But circumstances such as these…I don’t know that it’s happened before.” His gaze bore into the doubloon. “I’d always envisaged this coin going to the son of the woman I married.”
He pushed up tall and shrugged. “Unfortunately the dealer isn’t hopeful of securing another. This specific type of doubloon is the most sought after coin in the world.”
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