Illegitimate Tycoon (4 page)

 
          
She
hated that. Hated the distancing between them this past year. But she feared
getting close to him again as well. Feared losing control of her body.

 
          
And
yet that’s what her fear was doing now—taking control over her life, her plans,
and destroying her dreams.

 
          
But
how could she risk a repeat of the hell she’d gone through last year? She didn’t
know, and the uncertainty and fear were eating her alive.

 
          
She
looked around the room wildly, desperate to regain control of her rioting
emotions. Her gaze latched on to the rolling wardrobe clothes rack.

 
          
“Is
something wrong,
querida?”
Rafael
asked, his deep voice freezing her in place for a heartbeat.

 
          
Tell him. Blurt it all out!

 
          
She
ached to turn around and run her hands over his strong muscular chest. Wrap her
arms around him and hold him tight. Beg him to forgive her for holding the
truth from him.

 
          
Leila
desperately wanted to hold on to the only man she’d ever loved and savor the
moment, for that’s all they’d had in a year. Moments.

 
          
She’d
wanted so much more. She wanted the early days of her marriage back. Wanted the
tragedy of her miscarriage forgotten. Wanted to believe that she could bear his
child without the mind-numbing fear, that she could be stronger than the
disease that had nearly killed her as a teenager. That had killed her friend.

 
          
But
she couldn’t. Not now. Not before the premiere of the film he’d devoted so much
to. Not when the truth could drive an even deeper wedge between them.

 
          
“I
have to make sure everything I need is here.”

 
          
She
moved to the rack, desperately pushing those dark thoughts from her mind.

 
          
“Then
I will leave you to your unpacking and make a few calls. The premier is at
eight, two hours from now.”

 
          
“I’ll
have just enough time to get ready.”

 
          
Without
his interference. Without him being so close she could pull him to her, hold
him, kiss him.

 
          
She’d
never intended to keep her miscarriage a secret from him, but her fears had
sunk deep roots in her. Her only escape had been her career. It had become her
anchor with a new twist. She’d developed a compulsive ritual to oversee her
wardrobe, and to coordinate each shoot with the photographer beforehand.

 
          
She’d
gotten to the point now where she would only work with a handful of noted
photographers because they understood her process and brought the best out in
her.

 
          
But
her acclaimed status and demands had come at a price as well, for a few other,
less experienced photographers had labeled her a control freak.

 
          
She
frowned at that fault now, knowing on some level it was true. She tore into the
array of garments her agency had provided and nearly an hour passed as she lost
herself in the preparations, gaining control of her life and her fear again.

 
          
It
wasn’t easy being at the top of her game. There was no time to sit back on her
laurels and savor her position at the top, for there was always a new breed of
models eager to knock her off her pedestal.

 
          
Time
would do that all on its own, of course, as the opportunity for aging models
was few and far between. And a model close to thirty was already considered
beyond her peak years.

 
          
Right
now it was crucial that Leila remained focused on her career, and she
desperately needed this last campaign to excel. The endowment she would
establish off this shoot alone would provide more funding for her clinic for
girls battling anorexia and bulimia. So far it had been running on faith and
charity. She’d depleted her own funds to shore up their own, but she knew she
couldn’t keep doing that, knew she needed to do more.

 
          
So
it was imperative that she let nothing interfere with the networking she must
do here at the film festival to secure her clinic. But try as she might she
couldn’t stop thinking about Rafael.

 
          
She
couldn’t wait to be alone with him, to make love with him, for in his arms the
world and its worries faded away.

 
          
Leila
strode to the closet to hang her personal wardrobe and threw open the doors.
And blinked not once but twice. It’d been too long since her things had been
next to his. Too long since they’d shared more than a night or two together.

 
          
Several
masculine suits hung on the rod. Men’s fine leather shoes rested on the closet
floor in front of a large wheeled case.

 
          
A
smile curved her lips as she reached out to stroke the woolen sleeve on a
charcoal designer suit jacket. When they’d met, he’d barely been able to afford
an off-the-rack suit. Now he wore only ones custom-made to fit his long legs,
trim hips and broad shoulders.

 
          
“Do
they meet with your approval?” he asked, his deep rich voice vibrating along
her nerves in a delicious hum.

 
          
She
turned to him with a smile and felt her heart swell with love. With pride, for
he’d come from nothing and worked hard to become one of the wealthiest men in
the world.

 
          
“Yes,
I’m impressed by the quality of the cloth and the cut. But then you won me over
years ago wearing just faded jeans and a stark-white jersey that hugged your
chest—” she paused, striding to him on legs that oddly trembled “—as I long to
do now.”

 
          
A
deep growl of pleasure rumbled from his chest as she glided her palms over his
honed muscles. “This past year that we’ve spent apart has nearly killed me.”

 
          
“Me
too,” she said, her guilt once more threatening to steal the joy she felt at being
in his arms.

 
          
Rafael
was such a handsome man. So strong inside. So giving to her. So good.

 
          
Yet
the core of steel within him could be unbendable as well. He was a proud man,
slow to trust. And she’d betrayed that bond. Would he be forgiving when she
confessed her lie?

 
          
“Why
the sad look,
querida?”

 
          
She
took a breath and debated telling him now. Blurting it out in a rush, then
suffering his anger in silence throughout tonight’s premiere. No, it would ruin
this night for him and he had worked so hard to get to this point in his
career.

 
          
That
smacked of being selfish, and of all her faults, she wasn’t that. Nothing could
be gained from telling him now.

 
          
She’d
waited this long to purge her soul. She could wait another day or so until the
time was right. Until she’d enjoyed the pleasure of being Rafael’s wife and
lover without any arguments or hurt feelings between them.

 
          
“I
was just thinking how nice this would be if we didn’t have so many obligations
this week,” she said.

 
          
He
shrugged. “Say the word and we’ll leave here, go somewhere more private. Just
us two.”

 
          
“So
tempting, but you know I can’t do that.
We
can’t do that.”

 
          
“When
did our careers become more important than our marriage?” he asked.

 
          
“It
never has been,” she protested.

 
          
One
dark brow arched up. “Hasn’t it? In the past year we’ve only managed to be
together once, and that was far too brief.”

 
          
“I
know, but we are both at crucial points in our careers,” she said. “To have
shirked our responsibilities and commitments would have had adverse effects we
might never have recovered from.”

 
          
Especially
for her as a model. Right now it was crucial she kept her name out there. That
she stayed on top, for that brought in the big money that enabled her to help
others. It gave her purpose and pride to have succeeded so well at something.
It gave her control.

 
          
But
she admitted with a heavy heart that she’d also avoided any kind of close
encounter with Rafael after the miscarriage. It had been wrong of her, but she
had needed to protect herself. Ah, maybe she was selfish.

 
          
What
else could explain why she’d done that to the one person she trusted
implicitly? Fear, that’s what. Losing their baby had been the first tragedy she’d
suffered since her recovery from anorexia and it had almost destroyed her.

 
          
She
had learned a painful lesson. That while she adored Rafael, deep inside was
that fear of losing herself if she ever totally put her life in another person’s
hands again. She had to guard herself closely, for it would be easy to let one
compulsion morph into another. For her to slip back to the destructive ways of
her teen years.

 
          
“I
think there is more bothering you than weariness,” Rafael said, snapping her
attention wholly back to him again.

 
          
And
my God, but this man knew how to probe one’s soul with one long scorching look.

 
          
She
lifted her gaze just enough to break the magnetic pull that was drawing her
closer to him. “I’ve been on a grueling pace for the past six months. Rest is a
luxury I haven’t afforded myself.”

 
          
His
dark eyes narrowed, assessing, as if gauging whether to believe her. “Then I
insist you enjoy a good night’s sleep tonight.”

 
          
As
if she’d be able to do that knowing she had only to reach over to touch him! To
slip her arms around that magnificent specimen of masculinity and claim him as
her own. That all she had to whisper was
I
want you
and they’d both be lost in a passion so deep and so consuming that
nothing or no one else would matter.

 
          
“You
won’t get any argument from me,” she said, but doubted sleep would come easily
for either of them.

 
          
Showered,
coiffed and makeup carefully applied, Leila slipped into the vibrant blue
designer gown that had been provided for tonight’s premiere of
Bare Souls
. The skirt was sleek and
straight with a side slit to allow ease in walking.

 
          
The
strapless bodice hugged her middle and flared upward like flower petals to
cover her breasts. She had just the right amount of faux tan to complement her
natural golden coloring and make her skin glow with this electric shade of
blue.

 
          
Fiery
blue diamond studs sparkled at her ears and a matching pendant with a larger
diamond would soon hang from a fine golden chain around her neck. She’d slipped
a companion dinner ring on her right hand—all had been birthday gifts from
Rafael that had stunned and surprised her.

 
          
But
she still wore her simple wedding set on her left hand, and the tiny diamond
solitaire and smaller stones in the wedding band winked back at her as if in
approval. For years Rafael had insisted on replacing this set with a more
lavish one, but she’d told him flat out she didn’t want to exchange these for
new opulent ones.

 
          
These
rings meant the world to her for they were the first pieces of jewelry Rafael
had given her. These were the rings he’d slipped on her finger—the solitaire
when he’d gotten down on one knee and proposed, and the delicate wedding ring
when they’d stood before the priest and exchanged their vows.