Forbidden Desires. Marion Lennox
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that snappy reply was the extent of the spunk in her.
“You have the stamina of a trampled daisy. What if something happened? No. You’re coming home with me,” Raoul pronounced.
For a few seconds, she couldn’t even blink. A tiny voice deep in her soul asked, Me? Not just Lucy? Her pulse tripped into a gallop and tingling excitement raced all the way to her nerve endings.
Get a grip, Sirena!
“I have staples, Raoul. It’s not nice to make me laugh,” she retorted, trying to gather thoughts that had scattered like shards of glass from a broken window. Stay in his house? With him? She already felt too vulnerable seeing him during the day. Living off him would decimate her pride and put her in his debt.
“You do,” Raoul agreed with edgy derision. “Staples and tubes and a unit of someone else’s blood. You’re on medications that make you light-headed and have appointments for follow-up and a baby to care for. You can’t do it alone.”
In her heart of hearts she’d been counting on a miracle with her sister, but of course that hadn’t panned out. Her father wasn’t working, so he couldn’t foot the bill for plane fare and God knew she couldn’t afford it. Besides, Ali was in her first semester at uni—that had been the whole point of Sirena sending the money so many months ago.
Sirena had friends she could call for the odd thing, but not the sort of steady help she needed these first weeks at home. Frustration made her voice strident.
“Why would you even suggest it? You don’t want anything to do with me,” she accused, voicing the fear that was a dark plague inside her.
He tilted his arrogant head to a condescending angle. “You may not be my ideal choice as the mother of my child, but I can’t overlook the fact that you are, or that you love her as much as I do. We both want to be with her and you need looking after. Bringing you into my home is clearly the most practical solution.”
That uncouched not be my ideal stung like mad. She knew she looked awful, hair flat and dull, no makeup. Her figure would remain a disaster until she could start on the treadmill again.
Was he seeing anyone, she wondered suddenly? It was the sort of thing she hadn’t been able to avoid knowing when she’d been working for him—and bizarrely, after being fired she’d found the not knowing even worse. How would she feel to learn he was with another woman while she was sleeping under his roof?
She broke their locked gazes, deeply repelled by the idea of him in bed with other women. “We don’t even like each other. It would be a disaster.”
“We’re going to have to get past that for Lucy’s sake, aren’t we?” he countered.
“And my being dependent on you will foster goodwill? I doubt it,” she argued, even as she mentally leaped to the pro of still being able to do her transcription jobs if he was on hand to care for Lucy for an hour here and there. That would mean she could keep her flat. The prospect of losing her home had become a genuine concern.
Raoul folded his arms as he put his sharp mind to work finding the argument that would clinch what he wanted. Not that he wanted her in his home, he reminded himself. It was his daughter he was after.
“If I were to have another child, I would look after the health of that child’s mother. Didn’t you tell me you expect me to offer Lucy the same considerations I would offer all my children?”
He was pleased to recall the demand she’d thrown at him weeks ago. It justified taking her into his home. He didn’t need a volatile mix of leftover attraction and betrayal confronting him with his eggs every morning, but Lucy’s needs trumped his.
Sirena heard the logic, but couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. His dispassionate reasoning was exactly that: lacking in feeling, practical. Cold.
It was also a perfect out, allowing her to accept a crazy arrangement for sensible reasons, but she feared she was only giving in to temptation. She knew why, too. Deep down, a grossly foolish part of herself believed that if she could just have his attention long enough, she could explain and earn his forgiveness.
The loss of his good opinion crushed her, not abating despite the months that had passed since the lawsuit. Experience with her stepmother told her that imagining she could earn Raoul’s admiration was pure self-delusion, but that didn’t alter the fact that she desperately wanted him to stop hating her.
While he wanted unfettered access to his daughter. That’s all that motivated him and he was trying to make it happen with his typical brook-no-arguments leadership and infinite resources, standing there casually impeccable and vaguely bored, certain he had the entire thing sewn up.
“Did I ever tell you how annoyingly bigheaded you can be when you think you’ve had the last word?” she muttered while casting for a suitable reason to refuse.
“I don’t think I’ve had it, I know it. The doctor won’t release you unless you have a care plan in place. I’m it.”
“You’re my get-out-of-jail card? When you put it like that...”
Every muscle in his body seemed to harden. “Be careful, Sirena. I’m taking into account you’re still only half-alive. Once you’re back to full strength, I won’t be nearly so charitable. I’ve forgotten nothing.”
A futile yearning swelled in her chest and burned in the back of her throat. He had every right to be angry, but to have her arrested when she’d been like an appendage for him for two years, then had given herself to him without hesitation...?
“You know I can’t have sex for another five weeks, right?” she threw at him. “If you’re thinking to have a convenient outlet on hand, it won’t happen.”
He swept her with one pithy glance that reminded her she was far beneath her best. She hated both of them in that second. Why did she care whether he was attracted to her or ever had been? He hadn’t. He’d been horny and she’d been handy. He’d told her so. Apparently having her underfoot wouldn’t be handy enough to tempt him again. That should be a comfort, not a knife in the heart.
“Just until the doctor clears me to live alone,” she muttered, bolstering her humiliated blush with a level glance into his implacable face. “I’m only staying until I’m back to full strength. Then Lucy comes to my flat with me.”
“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”
* * *
Despite the welcome of blooming gardens at the house in Ascot, Sirena was icy cold as they drove past the gates where she’d stood waiting for Raoul in the rain, begging him over the intercom to speak to her.
Finding him here that day had been a matter of calling in a favor with an out-of-the-know workmate. After that she’d been shut out completely, her personal items from her desk returned and her keys, company ID, equipment and expense cards taken back.
Unable to look at him, she set a light hand on the warm shape of the baby between them and rocked numbly with the car when the chauffeur halted under the portico. As she reached to unclip the child seat, Raoul’s adept fingers brushed hers away.
“I’ll bring her.” He relayed the diaper bag to his chauffeur and lifted Lucy out the opposite door, coming around to meet Sirena where the chauffeur had opened her door.
She tried to climb from the low-slung car and was more resentful than grateful when Raoul reached to help, offering his arm so she could cling to it with a shaky grip. Her muscles burned at the strain of pulling up and steadying herself on her weak legs. Pain sliced across her middle where her incision was healing.
As they went up the steps, he slipped his arm around her and half carried her.
She made a noise of protest, but couldn’t help leaning into his support, both bolstered and weakened by his lean hardness. She finally gave in to the pull of attraction and let her head loll into his shoulder for just a second before he spoke, his tone flatly shoving her back to reality.