Seduced by the Heir(37)

Paris stared at him, studying his face. Dark circles lined his eyes, and  stubble covered his chin. His blue dress shirt was open at the collar,  the sleeves were rolled up and his black pants were creased with  wrinkles. He looked weary, as if he'd just gone twelve rounds in a  boxing match. Paris wanted to wrap him in her arms, but stayed put on  the couch. He'd lied to her about his relationship with Cicely, and she  didn't know if she could ever forgive him.

"Good morning," Rafael said quietly. "I apologize for interrupting."                       
       
           



       

Curses quickly fell from Mr. St. Clair's lips. "You have some nerve, showing your face here."

"I understand your anger, sir, but this is a private matter between me and-"

"Like hell it is," he seethed. "I won't let you humiliate my daughter again."

"Paris, please let me explain. The situation is not what you think."

Her father snarled like a pit bull. "Save it. She has nothing to say to you."

Rafael stared at her, pleading with his eyes. "Paris, is that true?"

Yes... No... I don't know! I'm angry and confused, and I don't know what  to think anymore. You promised not to hurt me, Rafael, but you have!

"You have no business being here," Mr. St. Clair said. "Go back to your baby's mother."

"I came here to speak to Paris, and I'm not leaving until I do."

"Keep dreaming, Morretti!" Paris's father marched to the door, yanked it  open and pointed outside. "Get out before I toss you out."





Chapter 20

The silence was deafening, loud enough to shatter Paris's eardrums.  Conflicting feelings flooded her heart, but the strongest emotion she  felt was love. It consumed her, conquered her anger. Despite everything  that had happened yesterday, she still loved Rafael and didn't want her  father to physically hurt him. And it was obvious he wanted to.

"Dad, can you give us a moment alone?" Paris asked, rising to her feet. "Please?"

Mr. St. Clair wrinkled his nose.

"All I need is a few minutes."

"We have a flight to catch at noon."

Seconds dragged by. Paris knew her father was disappointed in her, but  she needed to hear what Rafael had to say. However, once he answered her  questions he'd be out of her suite and out of her life forever.

"Paris, are you sure about this?"

"Yes." To convince him, she squeezed his forearm and faked a confident  smile. "Dad, don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing."

Resigned, Mr. St. Clair threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, have it your way."

Relieved that he and Rafael wouldn't be trading blows, Paris sighed in relief.

"I'll be back at nine-thirty." Mr. St. Clair returned to the desk and  grabbed his briefcase. "If you need me for anything..." he paused and  studied Rafael "...just call. I'll be in the hotel restaurant."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Remember what I said."

Paris gave a solemn nod. "I will."

"Don't let him pull the wool over your eyes," he warned, wagging a  finger in her face. "He's a liar, just like Winston. You're better off  without him."

Was it true? Was Rafael cut from the same cloth as her heartless ex-boyfriend?

Her dad stalked out of the suite and slammed the door with such force the balcony doors rattled.

Paris wrung her hands, nervously shifting her feet, looking everywhere  but at Rafael. They'd made love dozens of times, and she often sashayed  around his Georgetown home naked, but she suddenly felt uncomfortable in  his presence. This isn't how things are supposed to be, she thought  sadly, feeling her eyes sting and burn. We should be in the kitchen,  feeding each other breakfast, not on the verge of breaking up.

"Where are you going?"

Paris chanced a look at him, trying to make sense of his question.

"Your dad said you have a flight to catch at noon." He coughed and slid  his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. "Where are you guys  going?"

"That's none of your business."

His eyes narrowed, and his lips hardened into a line. Stunned by his  expression, she glared at him. He has nothing to be angry about. I'm the  one who's been publicly humiliated, not him!

"We're flying to Miami tomorrow morning on the Morretti family jet. Did you forget?" he asked.

"Take Cicely and the baby with you," she snapped, raising her voice.

He grimaced and swallowed hard.

"I'm not interested in meeting your parents-"

"But we've been planning this for weeks," he argued, interrupting her.

"That was before I found out about your baby mama. Now that I know  you're a lying bastard, we're through." Pausing to catch her breath,  Paris took a moment to gather her thoughts. She wanted to hurt Rafael,  to get back at him for deceiving her, but she just couldn't do it. He  was a remarkable man, the kind of person she'd always envisioned herself  marrying, and she loved him. More than she'd ever loved anyone.

"Paris, I'm sorry."                       
       
           



       

"For what?" she challenged, her voice rising to dangerous heights. "For  lying to me all these weeks, or for neglecting to mention that you were  having a baby with your ex?"

"Hear me out."

"Why should I? We're over, and I don't want anything more to do with you."

His face fell. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

Rafael stepped forward, his hands outstretched, but Paris spurned his  advances. "Don't touch me." Backing away from him, she slid behind the  sofa and folded her arms across her chest. Deep down, she longed to  touch him, to kiss his cheeks and lips, but knew it would be a mistake  to act on her feelings. If she did, they'd end up making love, and Paris  wanted to get to the bottom of things. "I was worried sick about you,"  she confessed, shouting her words. "I must have called you a hundred  times, but you never picked up!"

"I know, and I'm sorry. My cell phone died while I was at the hospital."

"Likely story," she mumbled.

"I wanted to call and explain what was going on, but I never got a  chance. Things were crazy in the delivery room, and I didn't want to  leave Cicely...."

Paris winced.

"When I finally left the hospital, I came straight here."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Am I supposed to forget how  you deceived me?" Hearing a knock on the door, she broke off speaking  and glanced at the wall clock hanging above the entertainment unit. Her  dad had obviously had enough of waiting, but Paris didn't mind the  interruption. Listening to Rafael talk about Cicely hurt like hell, and  she feared if the conversation continued she'd end up getting physically  sick.

"Hotel security! Open up!"

Rafael marched over to the door and yanked it open. A short, stocky man wearing a navy blue uniform peered inside.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his gaze scoping out the elegant surroundings.

She nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Someone overheard loud voices coming from this suite and rang the front  desk. The caller feared the female occupant might be in danger." The  security guard dropped his voice to a whisper. "Ma'am, are you all  right?"

Paris felt her cheeks flush with heat, and she smiled apologetically.  "I'm sorry for disrupting the other guests. I assure you it won't happen  again." To make amends, she unzipped her purse and took a fifty-dollar  bill out of her wallet. "Here is something for your trouble."

"Thank you, ma'am." He straightened his shirt and gave a curt nod.  "Enjoy the rest of the day, and if you need anything don't hesitate to  call the front desk."

Could this day go any worse? she wondered, turning away from the door.  Feeling dejected, as if the universe was out to get her, Paris  considered the events of the past twenty-four hours and decided it was  the worst day of her life.

"I know you're upset," Rafael said. "But I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Then why didn't you tell me your ex-girlfriend was pregnant?"

"Because I didn't know."

Paris rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"I'm telling you the truth. I swear."

"How could you not know? Wasn't it obvious?"

"Cicely splits her time between Washington and New York. And after she  gave that tell-all interview to Celebrity Scoop magazine I cut all ties  with her." Rafael sat down on the couch. He looked defeated, as if he  didn't have any fight left in him. "Before yesterday I hadn't seen or  talked to Cicely in months, and that has suited me just fine."

Paris's curiosity rose. "What happened yesterday? Why was Cicely at  Morretti Incorporated? Is it true you delivered the baby in your  office?"