One Night: Latin Heat: Uncovering Her Nine Month Secret / One Night With The Enemy / One Night with Morelli. Jennie Lucas
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up another flight of stairs, still holding our baby protectively with his muscled arm, he pushed open the door at the end of that hall. I followed him inside, and saw an enormous, high-ceilinged room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a balcony. Modern, masculine, stark. With only one real piece of furniture.
An enormous bed.
I stopped. “But where’s the crib?”
“I’ve had the room next door turned into a nursery.” To my relief, Alejandro didn’t even glance at the big bed, but just kept walking straight into the connecting door that led to the nursery, and its en-suite bathroom.
The bathroom connected to the nursery was as severe and cold as the master bedroom had been, all white marble and gleaming chrome. But it did have an amazing view. Wide windows overlooked the dark vistas of his estate, lit only by moonlight and distant twinkling lights on the horizon.
He stopped, frowning at the marble bathtub. “On second thought, I don’t think this is going to work,” he said tersely, looking from the enormous tub to the baby in his arms. “He’s too small. We need to get a special baby-size tub....”
It was endearing, really, to see how worried he was. “Tomorrow, if you like, we can go get one. For today, it’s no problem.” Smiling, I took Miguel in my arms. “Since he can’t sit up on his own yet, we’ll just hold him up. And be careful.” Leaning over, I turned on the water. “Having an extra pair of hands will help.”
His eyes met mine. “So you don’t...mind that I’m helping you?”
“No,” I said softly, “I’m glad.”
His expression changed. He started to speak, then turned away, sticking his hand in the water. When the temperature was Goldilocks-acceptable—neither too hot nor too cold—he plugged the drain so the bathtub could fill.
Sitting the baby on the marble counter, I started to pull off his clothes and the clean diaper beneath. “Can you grab his baby shampoo? It’s in my bag. Oh.” I turned. “It’s still in the car—”
With a grin, Alejandro held up the baby shampoo from a nearby drawer, along with a white, fluffy towel. “You mean this?”
“Oh,” I said. My cheeks went hot. “It was nice of your staff to unpack everything for me, but...”
“But?”
“It’s just strange to have someone going through my stuff.”
“You’ll get used to it. You’ll never have to lift a finger again, unless you want to. Especially with Abuela to oversee everything. She enjoys cooking, cleaning, shopping...” He paused, suddenly looking uncertain. “That is, if you wish that.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “If I?”
Alejandro came closer to me.
“You are the duchess now,” he said. “As far as the castillo is concerned, your rule is now law.”
My cheeks went hot. I licked my lips, tried to laugh as I sat on the edge of the bathtub and checked the water with my elbow. “So you mean I could fire everyone, throw out your tenants, buy Maurine a condo in Barcelona, get rid of all the furniture and paint the walls pink?”
But he didn’t laugh.
“If you like,” he said in a low voice. “Though I’d prefer we keep the staff and tenants. If you decided otherwise, I would need to take care of them some other way.”
“Give them all houses and jobs in Madrid?”
“Something like that.”
This kind of thinking surprised me. Most of the high-powered CEO types I’d seen in New York and London seemed to constantly need to resole their expensive shoes, due to the wear caused by stepping on all the little people. I looked at Alejandro curiously. “You really feel responsible for them, don’t you?”
“Of course. They—” Tightening his jaw, he looked away. “They’re my people.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “Maybe you’re not entirely the bastard I thought you were.”
“But I am,” he said in a low voice. He lifted his gaze to mine. “I can’t change who I am.”
Something about the expression of the chiseled lines of his handsome face made me feel all confused and jumbled inside. For a moment, the only sound between us was the water running into the bathtub, and the soft yawns of our baby.
“All right, fine. The staff can stay.” I sighed. “It would probably be easier to just get rid of me, then.”
His lips quirked upward. “Never. Sorry.”
“Miguel is your responsibility. Not me,” I pointed out. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not...one of your people.” I looked away. “I can support myself. Just so you know.”
“I do know. I’ve seen your paintings.”
I stiffened. Edward had often patronized my little hobby. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I think you’re talented,” he said softly. He pointed toward the nursery. “Or didn’t you notice?”
Frowning, I went to the door. And I sucked in my breath as I looked around the dark nursery, at the paintings lining the walls.
“You brought them,” I whispered. “All the paintings from Mexico...all the pictures I did of Miguel since he was born.”
“I wanted them here. With him.” He looked at me. “With us.”
A shiver went through me from deep inside.
“You are welcome to paint, or do any work you want,” he said gravely, “but only if it nourishes your soul. And any money you make is exclusively your own.”
“But that’s not right. I don’t expect you to support me, to support all of us—”
“That is my job,” he said firmly, “to financially support you and Miguel and, God willing, other children.”
Other children!
I swallowed, breathing hard. It was as if he were offering me everything I’d never dreamed I could ask for. After growing up an only child, an orphan, I’d always secretly yearned to have a large family. Now Alejandro didn’t just want to be a father for Miguel. He wasn’t offering just financial stability for us both. He wanted to give me more children, too.
And create those children inside me....
No! I had to get ahold of myself. No matter how Alejandro looked at me in the shadows, or how the husky sound of his voice made me tremble. No matter if he seemed to be offering me my dreams. Without love, without honesty, it wouldn’t work.
I shook my head. “You don’t need to do these things out of duty.”
“Not duty.” His hand cupped my cheek. “It is my honor. And more.” His eyes met mine as he said huskily, “It is my pleasure.”
My cheeks flamed with heat. Sparks of need crackled down my body from that single point of contact. My lips went dry, and tension coiled hot, deep inside.
Nervously, I pulled away, looking down at the enormous marble bathtub. “Water’s ready.”
I carried Miguel to the tub, and Alejandro was suddenly beside me, rolling up his long sleeves to reveal his powerful forearms, dusted with dark hair. “Allow me.”
Together, we propped him up to sit in the few inches of water. Alejandro held him upright as I lathered up Miguel’s soft, wispy dark hair. The baby was already yawning as we toweled him off, and got him into his blue footsie pajamas decorated with baby animals. He was half-asleep as I took him into the nursery, to cuddle him in a rocking chair and feed him before bed. Alejandro sat beside us in a cushioned window seat. His face was in silhouette as he watched