“Why didn’t you say something when we were together that night?” she asked skeptically.
“I didn’t see the information as relevant since procreation wasn’t on our agenda.” His sardonic tone needled at her already tender nerves.
“But you used condoms … even if one failed in the hot tub.”
Just thinking of the combustible connection, their total loss of control threatened her balance even now. They’d started in his office, then raced to his home to spend the rest of the night together, awake and making the most of every moonlit minute.
“Safe sex has to do with more than pregnancy,” he pointed out practically.
Of course she knew that. She’d freaked when the condom broke, only partially calming down once he’d reassured her he was disease free. Yet in the back of her mind she’d heard the haunting sound of her mother’s sobs behind a closed bedroom door. Lilah had been a preteen at the time, but old enough to understand the gist of her parents’ fight.
Her father’s latest reckless affair had passed along a disease to his wife.
The STD had been treatable, thank heavens, but Lilah had been stunned by how quickly her mother forgave her husband for his infidelity. Again. And again.
Rather than forcing back the memories of her mom, Lilah embraced them for motivation to stand firm now. To push for answers. And to hold Carlos accountable. “This is your child. I don’t want money from you and I certainly have no interest in the whole royalty thing. I only want my baby to know his or her father.”
“That isn’t my baby.” His voice echoed with a surety she couldn’t miss.
His denial of his own child infuriated her all over again.
“All because of a riding accident when you were a teenager?” She wasn’t a doctor but something sounded off in his explanation, in spite of his utter confidence. Still, she couldn’t ignore the gravity in his voice, the set serious lines on his aristocratic face.
“The trauma from the accident, coupled with a postsurgical infection, left me sterile. I’m a doctor, in case you’ve forgotten.” He pulled a leather-bound book from the shelves and dropped it on the desk with a resounding thud. “But if you’re still in doubt, there’s a full chapter in here that discusses such complications. I’ll be more than glad to mark the pages for you. The fact remains, though, that your child must have been fathered by someone else.”
A shadow smoked briefly through his eyes, something dark and perhaps angry even, but was gone before she could confirm her impression.
If anyone deserved to be mad here, it was her. She wanted to shout her frustration. She was telling the father, whether he believed her or not. “Carlos, you aren’t listening to me. There is no one else,” she explained slowly, carefully, hoping he would hear the truth in her words even if it revealed her vulnerability in wanting only him. “There hasn’t been anyone other than you in eight months.”
A frown furrowed his forehead, but his silence encouraged her to continue.
“It is absolutely impossible for me to be pregnant with another man’s child. And believe me, I am pregnant.” Her voice shook for the first time. “I’ve seen the ultrasound. Our baby is alive and well.”
The enormity of how much her life had changed so quickly threatened to overwhelm her. She’d always managed to tackle anything life threw her way, whether it be law school at Yale or standing up to a state supreme court judge.
Never had the stakes felt more important than now as she fought for the tiny defenseless life inside her.
Carlos’s eyes relayed sympathy and, even worse, a hint of pity. “You really believe this.”
“And you really don’t.”
Finally, she heard and accepted what he’d been saying since she first told him about the baby. She’d anticipated a number of reactions and prepared her rebuttals as carefully as any legal brief. However, she certainly hadn’t foreseen this turn of events. Obviously his doctors had been wrong in their diagnosis of Carlos, and his refusal to even consider the possibility, his insistance on believing she’d lied, cut her to the core.
Disillusionment seeped through her veins like a chilly IV flooding through her system. Even though she’d assured herself she didn’t need him, she’d hoped for … something … anything more than this.
Their kiss a few minutes earlier meant nothing to him. She meant nothing to him. And she needed to numb herself so he meant nothing to her.
Lilah pulled in a steeling breath, a trick she’d learned early on to keep her cool when her insides threatened to bubble over with too much unruly emotion. “I’ve done my part by informing you. A paternity test after the baby is born will confirm I’m telling you the truth. And you’re going to feel like a royal jerk when you’re faced with the proof.”
Determined to leave with her pride, Lilah held her head high as she fought back the urge to cry over how terribly the confrontation had gone. While she hadn’t expected exuberant cheers by any stretch, she’d hoped for acceptance, followed by stalwart emotional support as they agreed to spell out the practical details of bringing a child into the world. Carlos was a private, reserved man, but he’d always been quietly honorable. Even after his cold shoulder recently, she’d expected better from him than this.
She closed the door with a quiet but firm click, wishing her aching heart was as easy to seal off.
The click of the closing door echoed in his ears, along with the first hints of doubt.
Carlos leaned back against his desk, staring at the space where Lilah had stood seconds before. She’d seemed so certain. In all the years they’d known each other, she’d been an honest woman—a boardroom shark in fighting for the hospital—but always frank and truthful. He admired that about her. For years, in fact, he’d used that admiration of her character to temper his more … primal response to her.
What if …
The possibility of actually being a father rocked his balance far more than the injuries that still caused him to limp to this day. He flattened his clammy palms against the legs of his green hospital scrubs.
While he’d engaged in a number of careful affairs over the years, never had he let a woman truly break through his laser focus on his work. But Lilah was different. He was damn impressed by the way she fought for the hospital, stood up to million-dollar donors and politicians when it came to patients’ rights—hell, the way she faced down even him when he dug in his heels too deeply and lost focus on the bigger picture. She had a sharp mind and she wielded it artfully in her profession.
Would she use those same skills against him even now if she thought it would benefit her child?
His father had taught all three of his sons not to trust anyone, anytime. Everybody had a price, including the cousin who had sold out their escape plan. The queen, his mother, Beatriz Medina had died as a result of the ambush that ensued on their way out of San Rinaldo. Carlos had spent his teenage years undergoing surgeries to recover from the gunshot wounds. That he could walk at all was considered a miracle. Doctors told him to be grateful for that much, even if he would never have biological children.
Could he trust Lilah?
As much as he trusted anyone, which wasn’t much. God forbid the press should get a hold of this tidbit before he settled the issue. He needed to provide Lilah with concrete proof while keeping matters quiet.
First step, arrange to have the lab run a sperm count test. As much as he balked at the invasion of his privacy, the current results would end this once and for all.
The pesky “what if” smoked through his mind again, the possibility that through some inexplicable miracle her kid turned out to be his after all. Then, he needed to keep Lilah close at hand until the baby could be