The Drakon Baby Bargain. Tara Pammi
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to grow up in the past few months, is a little girl. With feelings and emotions. She lost the one person who loved her unconditionally. She’s been thrust into an unfamiliar world with a man—”
“It has been eight months since her mother died.”
“Eight months is an entire lifetime for her. You can’t just...buy her things and expect everything to be all right. You can’t just slot into her life and expect her to love you like she did her mother. Not by leaving her with a string of nannies. Not by engaging her in a battle of wills. And definitely not by demanding her affection and love.”
“Those nannies came highly recommended with years of experience in dealing with kids.”
“But not a single one of them tried to understand her. It was all just schedules and milestones and you can’t just ignore...” She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat.
He tucked a finger under her chin and tilted it up. “I can’t just ignore what?”
She wished she could hide the expression in her eyes. Erase the hurt from that corner of her heart that never seemed to heal. “You can’t fix the loss of her mom by throwing her into the deep end. She’s among strangers in a foreign country and she barely sees you. She...she told me last week that she wanted to run away because of what that ghastly girlfriend of yours told her.”
If he wasn’t holding her chin in his hands, she would have missed his flinch. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s an ex. She...said she had experience with kids...that she could help me connect with Angelina.”
Now she understood the lineup of exes and “girlfriends” that had been appearing outside his office in the last few weeks. It had taken every ounce of her willpower not to march in there and demand that he send them away. For Angelina’s sake.
“Could you not see that they were just using Angelina like some stepping stone toward you?”
She saw it sink in. His jaw tightened. “And you, Princesa? You do not have any purpose?”
His gaze promptly fell to her mouth, a languid stroke against her senses. “I told you—I have no designs on you.”
“You knew who I was and yet you still kissed me.”
“Because my requirements for that night were to kiss a man. You fit the bill. If you hadn’t ripped my mask off, I’d have been on my way and no one—”
“If I hadn’t ripped the mask off—” his harsh breath purred over her cheeks “—I would have been inside you, right on that balcony, with your brother and half the world watching.”
Gravelly and low, his words rippled over her skin. Places she shouldn’t be thinking of throbbed with need. “Ripping off the mask was the only sensible thing that happened that night.”
“I would have—” she licked her lips as if that could stave off the heat pouring through her “—stopped you. It wouldn’t have gone that far.”
His gaze held hers, amusement and something else glittering there. “Either you’re very naive about men or you just like to lie to yourself.” A rough exhale left his mouth. “And now I find you, of all the people in my life, bonded with my daughter.”
Eleni pushed away from him, needing respite from that overwhelming masculinity. Respite from her own reactions. “Even your conceit can’t be that great to think I befriended Angelina with some...underhanded intentions. Sitting in the stables by herself, she reminded me of myself.”
“A Princess of Drakon, daughter to King Theos and sister to powerful Andreas and Nikandros—and I’m to believe you understand how Angelina feels? That you have to hide beneath a mask to find a man to kiss you?”
She shrugged, the gleam of interest in his eyes making her heart thud faster. If not for Angelina, he wouldn’t have spared her a single glance again, much less a conversation.
“I don’t care what you believe about me. Angelina needs to feel like she’s important to someone, like there’s some constant in her life that won’t desert her. She’s a sweet girl underneath all that bluster.”
“She’s sweet with you,” he bit out, a vein vibrating in his forehead. “The first time I saw my daughter was at her mother’s funeral. It took her a week to understand that I was indeed her father and not some terrifying stranger who was ripping her away from everything familiar. I learned after my ex was in an accident that she had named me as Angelina’s father.
“In three months, she hasn’t stopped looking at me as if I...were the culprit.
“My own daughter looks at me as if I...” He swallowed hard and looked away. “I’ve tried to be gentle with her... I’ve tried gifts. I’ve tried everything under the sun but not a damn thing works.”
Eleni hoped for the little girl’s sake that he would learn to express that concern. To show that he cared. But she’d been around too many thickheaded men, and Gabriel Marquez had proved that night that he was the king of arrogant ruthlessness and wouldn’t recognize tender emotion if it hit him in that all too gorgeous face.
He’d connected with her that night when he’d thought her a stranger. But as soon as he’d learned her identity, as soon as he’d learned that she knew him, he had shut down. Had closed himself off so fast that for days after she’d wondered if she’d imagined their exchange.
She wanted nothing to do with such a hard man, a man who thought showing his emotions was a weakness.
But for Angelina’s sake, she wanted to help. She remembered all too well how alone and frightened she had been growing up in the palace. It was only when her father had married Camille, Nikandros’s mother that Eleni had realized that not everyone in the palace resented the illegitimate child that the King had adopted in a fit of uncharacteristic generosity.
Camille had been so busy with Nik’s frail health, and yet she’d always had a kind word for Eleni.
“Never let him see a weakness, ma chérie,” when Eleni had cowered in the face of her father’s rages. “Never let them make you dispensable,” when Eleni had, in her innocent ignorance, complained that the Crown Prince Andreas, the older brother she loved so much, didn’t care about her either.
So Eleni had taken Camille’s advice to heart and made herself indispensable to her father and brothers. She had never imagined becoming the buffer between the three of them.
As she’d observed this father and daughter over the last three months, she’d assumed Gabriel was the same as her own father: controlling, bloated with arrogance, treating his offspring like pawns in his own personal game.
The glittering frustration in Gabriel’s eyes gave her hope for Angelina.
“She feels that you’ve taken her on as a last resort. With me, she knows I love spending time with her. That I don’t expect anything in return, that it is not a duty.”
Gabriel’s gaze moved over her, searching without seeing her. She’d seen that look on her older brother Andreas’s face—when he saw people only as a means to an end. When he decided on a course and set upon it, no matter what the cost to others. Her heart thumped in her chest.
“Then you’ll teach me how to get through to her,” he added softly, utter resolve in his tone, “and you’ll help the both of us connect.”
“It’s not something I can transfer from my head to yours.”
“I do not care what you call it, Princesa, but you’ll teach me how to connect with my daughter.” Stubborn resolve made his features look harsher than ever. “And you will do it before it’s too late.”
“What you’re suggesting is...not that simple.”
“I will speak to Nikandros about releasing you from all your many unofficial duties. From now on, you’ll spend your entire time with Angelina. And me, whenever I’m available.” His brow cleared,