Million-Dollar Love-Child. Sarah Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ eyes widened. ‘But why would this waste their time?’

      He shot her an impatient look. ‘Because we both know that this is all part of your elaborate plan to extract more money from me. I suppose I should just be grateful it took you seven years to work your way through the last lot.’ His voice was harsh and contemptuous. ‘It was a master stroke suggesting we contact the police because it does add credibility to the situation, but we both know that would have proved somewhat embarrassing if they’d agreed to be involved.’

      She stared at him in stunned silence. ‘You still think I’m making this whole situation up, don’t you?’

      ‘Look at it from my point of view,’ he advised silkily. ‘You turn up after seven years, demanding money to help a child I know nothing about and whose existence you cannot prove. If he’s my child, why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant seven years ago?’

      ‘I’ve already explained!’ She ran a hand over the back of her neck to relieve the tension. ‘Over and over again I rang and came to your office and you refused to see me. You wouldn’t even talk to me.’

      He’d cut her dead and she’d thought she’d die from the pain. She’d missed him so much.

      ‘Our relationship was over and talking about it after the event isn’t my forte.’ Luc gave a careless shrug. ‘Talking is something else that’s more of a woman thing than a man thing. A bit like guilt, I suppose.’

      ‘Well, just because you’re totally lacking in communication skills, don’t blame me now for the fact you weren’t told about your child!’ Her emotions rumbled like a volcano on the point of eruption. ‘I tried to tell you, but your listening skills need serious attention.’

      His eyes hardened. ‘It’s a funny thing, but I always find that I become slightly hard of hearing when people are begging me for money.’

      She stared at him helplessly. ‘He’s your son—’

      He held out a hand. ‘So show me a photograph.’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘If he exists, then at least show me a photograph.’

      She felt as though she was on the witness stand being questioned by a particularly nasty prosecutor. ‘I—I don’t have one with me. I was in a panic and I didn’t think to bring one.’ But she should have. Should have known Luc would ask to at least see a picture of his child. ‘I wasn’t expecting to have to prove his existence, so no, I don’t have a photograph.’

      One dark eyebrow swooped upwards and his hand fell to his side. ‘What a loving mother you must be.’ His tone was dangerously soft. ‘You don’t even carry a photograph of your own child.’

      She exploded with exasperation. ‘I don’t need to carry a photograph of him because I’m with him virtually every minute of every day and have been since he was born! I used your money to buy a little flat so that I could stay at home and look after him. And now he’s older I work from home so that I don’t miss a single minute of being with him. I don’t need photographs! I have the real thing!’

      He inclined his head and a ghost of a smile touched his firm mouth. ‘Good answer.’

      She shook her head slowly, helpless to know what to do to convince him. ‘You think I’m making all this up just to get money for myself?’

      ‘Frankly?’ The smile vanished. ‘I think you’re a greedy, money-grabbing bitch who wants five million dollars and is prepared to go to most distasteful lengths to achieve that goal.’ His eyes scanned her face. ‘And you can abandon the wounded look—it’s less convincing once you’ve already ripped a guy off big time.’

      Her mouth fell open and her body chilled with shock. ‘Why would you think that about me?’

      ‘Because I already know you’re greedy,’ he said helpfully, checking his watch. ‘And now you’ll have to excuse me because I have a Japanese delegation waiting in another meeting room who are equally eager to drain my bank account. If they’re even half as inventive as you’ve been then I’m in for an interesting afternoon.’

      She stared at him in horrified disbelief.

      Was that it?

      Was he really going to walk out on her?

      She knew instinctively that if he left the room now, she wouldn’t see him again. Gaining access to Luciano Santoro was an honour extended only to a privileged few and she sensed that she was on borrowed time.

      ‘No!’ She stood up quickly and her voice rang with panic. Her feelings didn’t matter any more. Nothing mattered except the safety of her son. ‘You can’t just send me away! I’m telling the truth and I’ll prove it if I have to. I can get Rio on the phone, I can arrange for you to talk to the school, I’ll do anything, absolutely anything, but you have to give me the money. I’m begging you, Luc. Please lend me the money. I’ll pay you back somehow, but if you don’t give it to me I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know where else to turn—’

      She broke off, her slim shoulders drooped as the fight drained out of her, and she slumped into a chair.

      He wasn’t going to help her. The responsibility of being a single parent had always felt enormous, but never more so than now, when her child’s safety was threatened.

      She wanted to lean on someone. She wanted to share the burden.

      Luc stilled and his dark eyes narrowed. ‘For five million dollars you’d do absolutely anything?’

      There was something in his tone that made her uneasy but she didn’t hesitate. ‘I’m a mother and what mother wouldn’t agree to anything if it meant keeping her child safe?’

      ‘Well, that’s a very interesting offer.’ His eyes scanned her face thoughtfully. ‘I’ll think about it.’

      She bit her lip and clasped her hands in her lap. ‘I need an answer quickly.’

      ‘This is Brazil, meu amorzinho,’ he reminded gently, stretching lean muscular legs out in front of him, ‘and you of all people should know that we don’t do anything quickly.’

      She caught her breath, trapped by the burning heat in his eyes and the tense, pulsing atmosphere in the room. All at once she was transported back to long, lazy afternoons making love on his bed, in the swimming pool—afternoons that had stretched into evenings that had stretched into mornings.

      She swallowed as she remembered the slow, throbbing, intense heat of those days.

      No, Brazilians certainly didn’t rush anything.

      ‘The deadline is tomorrow night.’

      His eyes gleamed. ‘So many shoes, so little time. You think I will just give you the money and let you go? Is that what you think?’

      She swallowed, hypnotised by the look in his eyes. ‘Luc—’

      ‘Let’s look at the facts, shall we?’ Lean bronzed fingers beat a slow, menacing rhythm on the glass table. ‘You clearly hold me responsible for seducing you seven years ago. You come into my office ignoring the past as though it is a vile disease that СКАЧАТЬ