Duty was such a cold word, she thought with a shiver. Ramon did not sound as though he planned to have a child because he wanted to be a father, but because it was necessary for him to produce an heir. But would he want the baby she was carrying? Would he demand that she marry him so that his half-English child would be his legal heir? Or—and this seemed more likely—would he offer her money? Maybe buy somewhere for her and the baby to live and pay his illegitimate child the occasional duty visit, retaining his freedom to marry a woman suitable to be his duquesa, who could give him a child with noble Spanish blood running through its veins?
A primitive maternal instinct to protect her child swept through Lauren. She stared at Ramon and saw him for what he really was—a ruthless billionaire businessman. It struck her then that she had never known him at all. He had acted the role of charming lover, but he had never allowed her to see the real man, the son of a duque, whose home was a castle. And in that moment she decided that she must keep her baby a secret from him. Ramon needed an heir to continue the Velaquez name, but her baby deserved a father who would love it unconditionally. It would be better for her child to have no father at all than one who did not love it, and would perhaps make him or her feel inadequate and not worthy of the Velaquez name.
Never the most patient of men, Ramon had suddenly had enough of being grilled by Lauren. ‘Is there any point to this conversation?’ he demanded explosively.
She hesitated, sure that the painful thudding of her heart could not be good for the baby. ‘I think there is,’ she said sombrely. ‘I felt it was time to establish what kind of relationship we have, and it’s clear that we view things very differently. I am not your mistress,’ she insisted fiercely, when he lifted his brows sardonically.
His eyes dropped deliberately to the sexy silk bustier that barely covered her breasts. ‘Yet, like a good mistress, you dressed to please me,’ he drawled, his mouth curving into a hard smile when she blushed scarlet and frantically pulled the laces together. ‘A mistress is all you can ever be to me, querida.’ He could not pretend that there were any other possibilities.
The careless endearment tore at her heart, but she refused to cry in front of him. The tears could come later, when she was alone—which was likely to be for a very long time, she thought dismally.
‘In that case I would like to go home,’ she whispered. ‘And…and I won’t be coming back.’
Incredulity ripped through Ramon, but his disbelief that Lauren appeared to be dumping him swiftly turned to outrage. Although he had ended more affairs than he cared to remember, no woman had ever broken up with him before.
‘Dios! What do you expect from me?’ he demanded furiously. ‘Would you rather I made false promises I can never keep?’ He did not want to lose her, but he was certainly not going to plead with her to change her mind. It was not as if he needed her. There were plenty more attractive blondes willing to share his bed.
He regarded her arrogantly, the noble lines of his illustrious ancestry etched onto his perfectly sculpted features. ‘If you really want to leave then I will arrange for my driver to take you home,’ he informed her in an icy tone. ‘But once you walk out of the door our arrangement is over, and I will not have you back.’
Lauren felt numb beyond words as it hit her that this really was the end. ‘I just want to go,’ she said huskily. She stiffened when he caught her chin and forced her face up to meet his angry gaze. Tension throbbed between them. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, and she despaired that she would have the strength to resist him, but then he swore savagely and flung her from him.
‘Go, then,’ he said savagely. And without another word she fled.
CHAPTER ONE
EIGHTEEN months later, Lauren hurried through the open-plan office of the big City law firm where she worked, and gave a silent groan when she checked the time on her watch. The staccato tap of her stiletto heels on the tiled floor came to an abrupt halt when Guy Hadlow stepped in front of her.
‘The old man has been asking for you since nine o’clock this morning. He wants to see you in his office as soon as you arrive.’ Guy gave her a malicious grin. ‘You’re forty-five minutes late. Did you fancy a lie-in? You look like you had a heavy night.’
‘Not that my being late is any of your business, but it’s snowing in the North London suburbs and my train was cancelled,’ Lauren told him tersely.
Like her, Guy was a lawyer at Plessy, Gambrill and Hess, working in the commercial property department. The only son of a wealthy banker, he was used to having what he wanted. Lauren’s polite but consistent refusal to date him had revealed an unpleasant side to his nature. The fact that they were now in competition for the same promotion had exacerbated the hostility between them.