Billionaire's Baby Of Redemption. Michelle Smart
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heart had twisted to hear the vile rumours about him.
Expecting a member of his household staff to open the front door for her, she had been surprised to find it opened by Javier himself.
What followed had been even more unexpected.
That was when she’d understood his ruthless reputation had been based on truth.
If he’d even given her a single thought since, he would have known she’d left his ballet company, left Madrid and returned to England. In the vain hope he would seek her out she had left her forwarding address on the company files. He could have found her without any effort if he had wanted to.
He hadn’t even noticed her absence from the stage that night.
She’d used those two months of silence to come to terms with the reality of her situation and get herself in an emotional place where she could face Javier again.
She would seek him out again tomorrow; seek him every single day until he was willing to have the conversation they so desperately needed to have.
Only when she was certain she could get back to her feet without her legs crumpling did she stand up, inhaling deeply.
Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, Sophie headed back the way she had come. The theatre’s wide corridors were almost deserted now.
When she reached the top of the ornate red-carpeted stairs that led down into the foyer, her heart skipped to see Javier striding up to her, his long legs taking the steps two at a time.
She held tightly onto the gold railing and stared at the emotionless, menacing face fixed on her.
When he reached the top, he inclined his head for her to follow him, leading her to a secluded section of the corridor.
He stopped walking and gazed down at her, breathing heavily through his nose.
‘Why now?’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Why did you choose tonight of all nights to tell me? Why not approach me in private?’
She kept her gaze steady on him. ‘Because after the way you treated me, I didn’t trust you would agree to see or speak to me.’
He had gone from blazing passion to ice-cold in the whisper of a second.
He had escorted her out of his home.
His face twisted. ‘You are carrying my child?’
How she kept her composure to answer him without bursting into tears she would never know. ‘Yes. We’re going to have a baby.’
HOT DARKNESS FILLED Javier’s head, swimming like a blood-red fog through him.
He’d known the moment Sophie had come into focus why she was there but his already overwhelmed brain had fought to deny it.
He was going to be a father.
But the mother wasn’t the perfect woman he had sought to bear his children but this waif-like creature who had ignited something in him that should never have been allowed to breathe.
He wanted children. He and his treacherous brother had adopted their mother’s surname the moment they could legally dump their father’s and he wanted to carry that name on to the next generation.
He’d waited his entire adult life for the perfect woman to come along and bear him those children.
Freya had been that woman. Beautiful, coldly perfect Freya, who would have given him beautiful, perfect children and who had not elicited the smallest glimmer of desire in him and shown no desire for him either. Perfection in all ways.
Javier knew the danger of passion. His orphaned state was living proof of those dangers.
The dangerous blood that had swirled in his father lived in his own veins too. It pumped hot and strong inside him, a living thing he was reminded of every time he looked in a mirror.
He should never have allowed Sophie, this warm-blooded, sensitive creature, to come anywhere within his orbit.
She sighed and pulled a business card from the small black bag she carried. She held it out to him with those tiny fingers that had caused such mayhem to his skin when she had touched him.
‘This is the hotel I’m staying at,’ she said quietly. ‘Take the time to process what’s happening and then come and find me when you’re ready to talk.’
‘What is there to talk about?’ he asked roughly, not taking the card, not willing to risk touching her in any way.
He knew what he had to do. There was no point in wasting air discussing what was a foregone conclusion.
He’d walked away from her with his head reeling and the weight of the world crashing down on him. He’d intended to work all the stress out and bring himself to a point where he could trust himself to have this difficult conversation without exploding.
He’d got as far as his car when the implications had really hit him and he’d known that to leave her there would make him as big a monster as the world believed him to be.
‘We’re having a baby, Javier. I would say there’s a lot to talk about.’
‘Not for me there isn’t. If you’re carrying my child then there’s only one thing that needs to be decided on and that’s the date of our wedding.’
She blinked. ‘You are willing to marry me?’
‘My child will bear my name and if you want any kind of financial support from me then you will agree to it.’
Sophie was naïve. Damn her, she’d been a virgin, a fact she had neglected to mention when they’d been ripping each other’s clothes off.
If she had any illusions about him or their future relationship let her have them dispelled now. If she didn’t already know what kind of a man he was—and his failure to seek her out in any form these past few months must have given her some clue—then let her know now.
She would never know it but he was doing her a kindness.
To his surprise, a small smile curved her pretty lips. ‘You don’t have to threaten me. I want us to marry.’
That took him aback. ‘You do?’
Her throat moved as she nodded.
He laughed, a guttural sound that grated to his own ears. For all her naivety and surface sweetness, Sophie was already making the financial calculations of how being his wife would significantly improve her bank account.
But there was no returning laugh from Sophie. Her eyes did not flicker or leave his face. ‘Our child is innocent. It did not choose to be conceived. It deserves to know and be wanted by both its parents.’
He made no attempt to hide his cynicism. ‘If that is true then why wait so long to tell me? You must have known for weeks.’
He was no pregnancy expert but he had studied biology at school and knew the ways a woman’s body worked.
‘I knew within a week,’ she said steadily. ‘I could feel changes happening inside me. I took the test the day after my period was due, so I have known for certain for six weeks. Technically I’m ten weeks pregnant as the due date is taken from the date of my last period. I waited before telling you because I needed my head to be in the right place before I faced you again.’
‘Did you have to research the best ways to leverage cash from the situation?’ he mocked brutally. He had never met a woman who didn’t have cash signs ringing in her eyes.
Having more money than he could spend in a thousand lifetimes was good for many things but leverage was its greatest gift. He’d used his wealth to buy Freya and she, the coldly perfect prima ballerina that she was, had been happy