* * *
Kim took a sip of her water as Alex finished a call. She had emailed him her proposal and set up the appointment. Now she wished she had waited for the weekend. Stupid of her not to expect how much the media would make of Alex visiting her alone on a Friday evening at her apartment.
She had never been more ashamed of herself. It had taken everything in her to ask Alex for his help but she had no other options. A flush overtaking her, she plucked up the daily statistics report her website manager had sent her.
Based on the turnover of her company in the last quarter, and on her expansion proposal, investing in her company was a sound opportunity for any shrewd businessman. Except for the scandal she had brought on herself.
Their daily numbers, the number of questions that came into their portal and the website hits, had spiked well above average today.
But she knew, as was pointed out by the breakdown in front of her, that this was because twenty percent of the questions had been about her pregnancy, whether she was married and—worst of them all—whether she was married to the father of her baby.
She needed to make a statement soon.
Tucking his phone into his pocket, Alex turned toward her. “I’m sorry, Kim. You know how much I trust your business savvy. But, as brilliant as your plan and forecast is, I can’t invest in it right now.”
Her stomach turning, Kim nodded. It was exactly as she had expected: the worst.
She blinked back tears as he wrapped an arm around her. “With everything going on out there right now I just... As much as I hate to admit it, my association with your company in the current climate would only damage your credibility.”
Kim nodded, the comfort he offered making her spectacular failure even harder to bear. “I know. And I’m so sorry for putting you and Liv through this—for everything. If I could I would go back to that day and do everything differently.” She smiled and corrected herself. “Well, except for the part where I left you with Liv.”
He laughed, and her mounting panic was blunted by the sheer joy in that sound. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Kim. You should come and stay with—”
“She’s not alone to deal with this. And I would think twice, if I were you, before touching my wife again.”
Kim jerked around so quickly that her neck muscles groaned.
Diego stood leaning against the door of her apartment, a dark, thundering presence, and he looked at them with such obvious loathing that her mouth dried up.
Next to her, Alex stayed as calm as ever as he turned around. Just like her, he knew who was behind the leak to the media. But, gentleman that he was, he hadn’t asked her one personal question.
The very antithesis of the man smoldering with anger at the door.
Mortification heating her cheeks, she met Diego’s gaze. “Don’t do this, Diego. Don’t make me regret ever knowing you.”
He shrugged, the movement stretching the handmade grey silk tight over his muscular frame. “Don’t you already? Aren’t you going to introduce your husband to your ex, querida?”
Alex moved at her side, reaching Diego before she could blink. Her breath hitched in her throat as they both looked at each other.
“Call me anytime, and for any kind of help, Kim,” Alex said.
Without another word he strolled out, closing the door behind him. The silence pulling at her stressed nerves, Kim walked past the sitting area to her kitchen, the open layout giving her an unobstructed view of Diego. She pulled a bottle of orange juice out of the refrigerator and poured it into a glass.
Diego leaned against the pillar that cut off the kitchen from the lounge. She raised the glass to her mouth and took a sip. His continued scrutiny prickled her skin. Every time she laid eyes on him she felt as if she was one step closer to a slippery slope.
“What is this? A lesson in caveman behavior?”
“I don’t understand your relationship with that man.”
She blinked at his soft tone. “Don’t turn this around on me. Were you going to beat your chest and drag me to your side by my hair if he hadn’t left?”
He smiled, his gaze moving to her hair. He flexed his fingers threateningly. “I’ve never done that before...but if anyone can push me to it, it’s you.”
Her mouth open, she just stared at him.
“You like throwing my background in my face, don’t you? I’m not ashamed that my life began on the streets of Rio de Janeiro, that I used my fists for survival.”
She glared at him, insulted by his very suggestion. “It’s got nothing to do with your background and everything to do with how you are acting now.”
“True. This one’s my fault. I should have expected you to go to him for help.”
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
Calling her a few names, maybe challenging her word about the paternity of the baby as the whole world was hotly speculating—sure. But this? No. His continuing trust in her word threw her, kept her off-balance.
Or was that what he truly intended?
The doubts assailing her, the real possibility of her company falling apart, filled her veins with ice. “As you have made it your mission to destroy my life, I went crawling for help to the man whom I deceived dreadfully by sleeping with you. Satisfied?”
* * *
Diego let his gaze travel lazily over Kim. A long-sleeved white cotton top hugged her slim torso and the flat of her stomach, followed by tight blue jeans that encased her long legs. Her short hair was pulled back with a clip, leaving shorter tendrils teasing her cheekbones.
He believed her that the baby was his. She had nothing to gain by lying to him and everything to lose.
Except he didn’t understand how, having been almost literally dragged from the altar by Diego, away from a man who was now apparently happily married to her twin, Kim could still share a relationship with Alexander that wasn’t the least bit awkward.
Was she still pining after him? After all, she had gone to him for help. That in itself was revealing.
“I gave you a week, gatinha. I refuse to be ignored. I refuse to let you put your company before the baby and—”
She put her glass down with a force that splashed the juice onto her fingers. Her posture screamed with barely contained anxiety. “The baby’s not going to be here for nine months. Do you expect me to sit around twiddling my thumbs until then? I’m not going to give up something I have built with sheer hard work just because I’m pregnant.”
There it was again. Her complete refusal to accept that things were going to change.
“I expect you to slow down. I expect you to return my calls. I expect you to stop working sixteen-hour days.” She didn’t look like perfection put together today. She looked tired and stressed out. Guilt softened his words. “You look like you’re ready to fall apart.”
“And whose fault is that? I’ve been trying to minimize the damage you’ve caused with your dirty tricks.”
“You have no idea how dirty I’ll fight for what I want. Propelling you toward him wasn’t what I intended, however. But I had forgotten how stubbornly independent you are.”
“Careful, Diego. You sound almost jealous. And yet I know you don’t give a hoot about me.”
“Remember I’m an uncivilized, dirty thug,” he said, with a slanted look at her. “A street-fighting Brazilian, pequena. Of course I’m jealous.”
Kim