The Billionaire's Baby Bargain (A is for Alpha) (15 page)

Chloe flinched and struggled to breathe against the tears that were thick in her throat. Never be able to give her. Her stomach rolled violently. She tried to pull away, but he held her still. “Release me,” she muttered.

“If you would simply—”

“Release me, Andrés!” She used all her strength to jerk from his embrace, pressing her hand to her mouth. She stumbled from the bed and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she got sick.
 

A moment later she heard the door open and bit back a curse when Andrés crossed the large bathroom to crouch down beside her.
 

Oh, God, why hadn’t she locked the door? As if her humiliation wasn’t enough at being told he would never love her, now Andrés was going to hold her hair back while she dealt with morning sickness?

But he did, rubbing her back and murmuring soft words until she was finished. Then, mortified and weak to her core, Chloe waited until he’d left to curl up and cry.

Cristo
, he was a complete bastard. Andrés paced his bedroom and cast another glance at the closed bathroom door.

Chloe had been in the bath he’d drawn for her for the last half hour. He’d left her in the bathroom after she’d recovered, giving her the privacy she’d obviously wanted but was too proud to ask for.

Had he upset her so much she’d gotten sick over it? Or was it the pregnancy? It didn’t matter which it was—the guilt still stabbed deeply.

After he’d told her he could never love her, her eyes had filled with disappointment and anger, but it was better than the tears he’d seen moments prior.
 

He’d had to bite his tongue to keep from grinding out the harsh admonishment to her silly girlish dreams. Love? She wanted love? The hyped-up emotion could rip your soul apart if you indulged in it.

What Chloe didn’t understand was that it wasn’t just her he could not love. It was anyone. He refused to let anything close to that crippling emotion take hold of him. Not since he’d been six years old and watched it completely destroy his father.
 

The bathroom door opened and Andrés turned to watch Chloe step out, looking all too frail wearing a silk robe, belted around her tiny waist. Noting the ashen color of her skin and slow walk, his frown grew.

“You should be in bed,” he said gruffly, striding forward to sweep her up into his arms.

“Andrés, please, I’m fine,” she protested weakly, clutching his chest. “I don’t want to go back to bed.”

She didn’t want to be reminded of what had happened this morning. She didn’t need to speak the words for him to hear them. Irritation slid through him, but he changed directions and brought her to one of the leather chairs near the fireplace, setting her down gently.

Lifting the phone on the table beside her, he called down to the kitchen and ordered them breakfast.

“I won’t be able to eat,” she said softly, one hand pressed against her belly.

“You don’t have to. But it will be there if you change your mind.” He moved to the chair a few feet away from her and sat down. “I also ordered tea.”

She nodded and then lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

He gave a light shrug. “It was hardly a bother. I’m hungry as well.”

“No, I mean, for helping me when I was sick.” Her cheeks filled with color and she swallowed hard. “I’m sorry that you had to see me…”

“Do you think I’m some kind of animal?” he asked harshly. “You have no need to apologize to me. You’re carrying my child.”

When she flinched, he cursed himself silently for losing his temper. He wasn’t mad at her, but himself.

With a sigh, he softened the scowl on his face and stood, lifting her from the chair and then sitting down again so that she rested on his lap. “Forgive me,
cariño
.” He cupped her cheek and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I simply hate that you are ill and I can do nothing about it. Please know I want to help in any way that I can.”

She swallowed visibly and there were conflicting emotions in her eyes; hesitation, confusion, and the tinge of hope.

Then, mimicking his own movements, she cupped his face with her hands and whispered, “What happened to you as a child?”
 

Tension coiled through his body and he didn’t breathe for a moment. How the hell had she known about his childhood?
 

“It’s just…I want to understand you, Andrés.” She licked her lips and stared at him anxiously. “And in the limo in Seattle, you mentioned something about your childhood being…unpleasant.”
 

Hell. It’d been hell. How could he have forgotten he’d let that slip? He kept his expression unreadable and said, “Don’t waste your time or energy trying to understand me. I won’t change.”

When she tried to pull free, he tightened his arm around her. Finally she lowered her lashes, but not before he’d seen the disappointment in her eyes. He was more than used to it by now though. Chloe wasn’t the first woman who’d thought she could fix him.

Even though he knew he could never love her, he didn’t like the idea of her not being around; of not feeling the same passion and need for him he had for her. She would remain in Spain at least until the baby was born, but then he would keep his promise and allow her to leave if she wanted.

The possibility that she would leave without her child was small, and he was counting on that keeping her here. But it still left a knot of unease in his stomach, knowing that she wanted to go. That still she rejected his offer for marriage.
 

Marriage had never seemed like anything more than a trap. But now, with a child he’d sworn he’d never have on the way, he was beginning to realize just how much he wanted Chloe as his wife, to have his child born in wedlock and have a mother.
 

Stroking his hand through her hair, he made a vow to himself. Over the next few months he would seduce not just Chloe’s body, but her heart as well. Make her care for him, work on creating a relationship, even if it wasn’t love.

A sharp knock came at the door, and he called for whoever it was to enter. Chloe pulled again to move off his lap. This time, he let her go.

It hurt that even after this morning their relationship couldn’t seem to move forward. If anything, this conversation had moved them back a step. His gaze had hardened and he’d completely shut himself down when she’d probed into his background. How were they ever going to make this work if he kept himself a distant, ruthless stranger to her?
 

Once Andrés’ employee had delivered the food and left, she moved toward the tray, needing some kind of distraction. She reached for the pot of tea and went to pour some into the delicate china cup, but her movements were sloppy and rushed, and the amber fluid sloshed out of the cup and splashed against her wrist.

She gasped, nearly dropping the pot. Andrés was beside her in an instant, taking the pot from her and setting it back down.

“
Cristo
, Chloe, you must be more careful.” He caught her wrist and lifted it toward the light, peering down at her scalded flesh.
 

“As if I did it on purpose.” Tears blurred her vision again, caused this time by pain and frustration. She just wanted to scream and sob. She wanted to kick something and throw a tantrum like a toddler. She was ridiculously emotional and didn’t even know what to do with herself. And she only blamed half of it on pregnancy hormones.

“Let me get some ice,
cariño
,” Andrés voice gentled, as if he regretted his loss of temper. He scooped up some ice from the silver bowl that held soft cheese, wrapping the chunks of ice in a linen napkin and then placing it against her wrist. “Hopefully it will not blister,” he murmured. His gaze rose to meet hers, the expression in his eyes as gentle as his touch. “Are you all right?”
 

“I’m fine,” she replied, but the unsteadiness of her voice belied her response.

Andrés pressed a hand against her back and ushered her to the chair once more. “Sit. I will bring you tea and breakfast.”
 

This time Chloe didn’t protest, mostly because she didn’t have the energy to. While Andrés might shut her out from anything personal, there was almost something sweet about the way he rushed to help her. Seemed determined to take care of her. Whether it was after she dumped scalding tea on herself, or while she was experiencing morning sickness.
 

A few minutes later, he set a cup of tea on the table next to her and then handed her a small plate of food. Despite her protests of not being able to eat with the morning sickness, her stomach growled anyway. Perhaps she would see if she could get down at least a few bites.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her mouth curving into a slight smile as she glanced at her plate.

She’d been gone from Spain for a couple of months, but time faded when she lifted the churro and took a bite. Her taste buds danced with recognition of the fried dough rolled in cinnamon and sugar. She chewed slowly, relaxing more. She made no attempt to stop her moan of pleasure.
 

“It is good, I take it?” Andrés drawled with amusement.

“Yes. Quite good.” She licked the sugar off her thumb and gave a small smile. “I’d forgotten how much I love these.”

In Seattle she would usually eat a yogurt or eggs nearly every morning for breakfast, determined to have some protein to start the day. But during the summer, while she’d worked at Andrés’s resort, she’d thrown herself into the country’s culture. Eating a small breakfast of a churro or pastry, perhaps toast with jam, but saving up for the large meal that was custom to eat at lunch.
 

Which, perhaps, would work quite nicely now that her stomach protested too much food in the morning. She took another bite of churro, surprised to find that she was holding down her food rather well.

Andrés had dished up his own small plate of food and was about to sit down when he paused in front of her. “You have a bit of sugar,” he murmured softly and reached out to trace his thumb over the corner of her mouth. “Right there.”

Chloe almost dropped her churro. Tingles of awareness rushed through her at his touch, especially with the memory of their lovemaking still fresh in her mind.
 

His gaze was light and teasing. He dipped his head and his mouth hovered just above hers. “And right here, I believe.” His lips brushed hers, then his tongue flicked out over her bottom lip, catching the tiny granules of sugar.
 

It was only when he lifted his head did she remember to breathe again. She dragged in an unsteady breath, her pulse racing once more and every nerve in her body on high alert from his brief kiss. “Thank you,” she said huskily.

“
De nada
.” His mouth curved into a pleased smile as he sat back down in his chair and lifted a churro to his lips.

She was entranced at his long fingers holding the sugary stick of dough, and then when his teeth flashed white as he bit into it.

Desire raced through her, sending warmth low in her belly. She closed her eyes, stifling a groan. Heavens, how was it possible she wanted him again so soon? All Andrés was doing was eating a churro, for God’s sake.
 

Andrés said suddenly, “Did you have a chance to visit Girona while you were here during the summer?”

Chloe shook her head and picked up a cracker topped with a soft white cheese. “No, I saw Barcelona, which was incredible, and that was about it.” She nibbled on the cracker and cast him a sidelong glance. “Mostly I worked at your hotel.”

Until he’d had her fired… The words lay unspoken between them but she could’ve sworn she saw the faintest flash of regret in his eyes. Then it was gone and again replaced by that unreadable stare.

It still shocked her that she’d gone to bed with Andrés that first night, completely unaware of just who he was—that he’d owned the resort. She’d been oblivious to all the power, money, and prestige he had. Would it have made a difference had she known?
 

Possibly. She would have certainly tried to avoid him, because sleeping with a man of his magnitude could only get you in trouble. As she’d quickly learned.

But then, it may not have mattered even if she’d known who he was, because Andrés was quite determined when he wanted something. And if he’d persisted or kissed her…she would have been a lost cause.
 

“After breakfast I will show you Girona,” he promised. “The medieval city is not far from here.”

Her breath caught and she gestured to the window she’d peered out of yesterday. “Is that the city you can see from there?”

“
Sí
.”

Despite her vow to remember she was not in Spain willingly, her pulse quickened with excitement. She set down the rest of the cracker and pushed away her plate, full now. “But…don’t you have to work?”
 

His gaze turned lazy; he lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I have time for pleasure as well as business, Chloe. Today I choose pleasure.”

Her throat dried at his not-so-subtle implication.
 

“Can you be ready in an hour?” he continued.