And if at times he seemed to care, if he seemed to be vulnerable after all, that was the most dangerous illusion of all.
Straightening her shoulders, she turned to face him. “I won’t sleep with you.”
“You will,” he said, a sensual smile tracing his mouth. “You are my wife.”
She licked her lips. “Just because we are legally married does not mean you own me!”
“Does it not?” he said softly.
He approached her, and for a moment she thought he intended to kiss her. Then the baby started to whimper and squirm in her arms. He stopped.
“Take care of my son,” he said. “When you are done, I will be waiting.”
Cuddling Noah in the bedroom, she fed him once they were alone. When he was asleep, she tucked him tenderly into the crib. The only sound was the quiet, even breathing of their sleeping baby as she finally left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.
She looked up with an intake of breath when she saw him waiting for her at the end of the hall, a dark, towering figure in a house full of shadows.
Rafael’s eyes never left hers as he came slowly toward her. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she shivered.
How long could she resist him?
God help her if he ever reverted to the charming, seductive man she’d once known, the man with a gift for words and a light in his dark eyes that could convince any woman that she, and only she, could bring out the good in his heart.
God help her if Rafael decided to make her love him again.
“Come,” he whispered.
Taking her hand, he pulled her down the hall. Dinner had been catered in and served on the massive oak dining table overlooking the wall of windows and the view of the city. The servers set up the food, then departed, along with the bodyguards.
Louisa was alone with Rafael, with no chaperone but their sleeping baby down the hall. She looked out toward the windows, past the ghostly white furniture covered with sheets. He opened a bottle of Argentinian red wine and poured it into two crystal goblets.
It should have felt intimate, and yet in the neglected penthouse it felt cold. Soulless. The food was delicious, but this place didn’t feel like home. It felt dead. It felt like a prison.
And Rafael was her jailer.
She thought of the snug little apartment she’d left behind in Key West, of the sunshine and sound of the sea and her niece’s laughter, and felt a lump in her throat. She set down her fork with a clang against the china plate.
“Don’t you like the empanadas?” he asked.
“They’re delicious,” she murmured. “But it doesn’t feel like home.”
“Still a housekeeper at heart?” he said mockingly.
She lifted her chin. “I’d rather cook for us. For our family.”
“Just take care of Noah. That is enough. We won’t be here long.” His eyes narrowed, and the darkness in his gaze scared her. “I have some business in Buenos Aires. A payback that has been a long time coming.” He smiled. “Once that’s done, querida,” he said, “we will return to Paris.”
Paris. She thought of her memories there with a shiver. Back to Paris. Where she’d first surrendered to her desire for her playboy boss. Where she thought he’d opened up his soul to her.
She couldn’t let herself fall for him again—couldn’t!
He might have some kind of sensual power over her that she could not fight—but she wouldn’t let him have her soul!
She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.
“I cannot just live with you, doing nothing,” she said quietly. “I married you and came to Buenos Aires because you left me no choice, but you must see that this cannot last. Let me at least act the part of your housekeeper. Because you do not want me as your wife.”
“And you?” he said mockingly. “Do you want me as your husband?”
She swallowed, trying not to remember the ridiculous dreams she’d had after she’d first found out she was pregnant, when she’d dreamed of Rafael falling in love with her. When she’d imagined him changing somehow into a good father, a good husband. Then, she’d wanted…
She shook her head. She wouldn’t think of it! “I was doing fine on my own. Noah and I were happy in Key West.”
“Too bad.” He took a drink of the expensive red wine from the crystal glass. “You’re never going back.”
It was exactly what she’d feared he would say, but she lifted her head defiantly. “Of course we’re going back. I have a business to run, and a family that needs me—”
“Consider the bakery a gift to your sister,” he said carelessly. “She now owns it.”
She stared at him in shock, then narrowed her eyes.
“You are out of your mind,” she said tersely, stabbing her fork toward him in midair for emphasis, “if you think I’ll let you just give away the business I love, the business I built and created with my life savings after I worked for you for five hard years—”
“Yes, I am certain that was a fate worse than death,” he said coolly, taking another sip of the red wine. “But your sister and her daughter will do well with the bakery. They will be happy and secure. That is what you want, is it not?”
She ground her teeth.
“Of course it is. But I want to be there with them! I’ve missed too much time with them already,” she said softly, then shook her head. “Florida is my home. You cannot take me away from a place where I’ve made friends—”
“Sí,” he said sardonically. “I saw your many friends when I was there. Why don’t you admit the truth about why you’re so desperate to return?”
“Because I hate the sight of you?”
To her frustration, he seemed untouched by her jab. He only gave her a cold smile. “Who is he?”
“He?”
“The man you have been seeing. Or was there more than one? I might have been your first experience in bed, but how long did you wait for your second and third and fourth?” His cold eyes met hers over the table. “Tell me, Louisa. How many men did you invite to your bed while you were still pregnant with my child?”
She stared at him in horror. Then, she rose from the table. Looking down at him, she raised her hand but he grabbed her wrists. He was so strong she could not pull away.
He stared at her for a moment in cold fury. She felt the pounding of her own heart, heard the soft gasp of her own breath. Felt the electricity in the air suddenly change between them.
Then, lowering his head to hers, he claimed her mouth in a punishing kiss.
Louisa tried to fight. Tried to push him away. He was bruising her, hurting her—
Then his kiss suddenly gentled. His hold on her became seductive, his arms caressing her softly, so softly, that her shirt and shorts disappeared as if blown off her body by a light warm breeze. His lips moved against her so tenderly, so lovingly, that she could not resist.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up into his arms and carried her, not to the bed, but to the nearby couch covered with a white sheet. There, he made love to her with such amazing tenderness that she wept.
Afterward, as she held him and he slept in her arms, she looked out at the view of