Chapter Eight
“W hat are you doing here?”
Raquel swung her legs down and stood up, only to grab the back of the sofa as her head spun. Apprehension filled her as she stood facing Alexandre, who leaned back against the door with his arms folded across his chest, his shrewd eyes watching her like a predator sizing up his prey.
She was wary of being alone with him while her fiancé was somewhere on the other side of the door.
Yet, she couldn’t suppress the illicit pleasure that rushed through her when his eyes slid indolently over her, pausing at her breasts before moving down to her toes.
She should be incensed by his blatant perusal, but was ashamed to admit that it stoked tiny flames all over her body, igniting a slow-burning flame in the pit of her stomach.
On their own accord, her eyes did a quick survey of him, too.
He wore a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt, and no tie.
The long hair was tamed with hair gel and brushed back away from his face, exposing his sharp cheekbones.
Her eyes lingered on the puckered white line on the left side of his lips, standing out starkly against his dark skin.
Strange that she hadn’t noticed the scar before while she had kissed those gorgeous supple lips to her heart’s content.
“We need to talk.”
She blinked, his words rousing her from the sexual languor that slowly spread through her body.
“We have nothing to say to each other,” she replied tartly, forcing herself to walk toward the door on shaky legs, intent on letting herself out.
She had to get away from him. She couldn’t afford to be with him in the same room and not feel. ..
Alexandre stood up straight and stepped in front of her, barring her escape route.
She glared at him. “Move away from the door. Let me leave.”
“Why did you come to my club that night knowing you were promised to my brother?” She gasped at his accusatory tone. “Did you come there with the intention of shaming Leandro? Did you orchestrate our meeting in some way?”
His vile suggestion infuriated her.
“Do you hear yourself?” She threw her hands up. “I didn’t even know who you were until a few minutes ago!”
“So anyone would have done that night?”
Before she could think, her hand flew up and she slapped him—hard. “How dare you!” she cried, humiliated by his dirty insinuation. Did he think she made a habit of sleeping with strangers?
Alexandre slowly turned his head. The angry imprint of her hand bloomed on his dark skin, immediately filling her with remorse that she had succumbed to violence.
But the fury in Alexandre’s eyes was nothing like she had ever encountered before.
Angry flames leapt in his eyes, dangerous like molten lava, capable of incinerating everything in its path.
And Raquel knew, if she didn’t get away from him, she would be consumed by his wrath.
With a choked gasp, she stumbled back when he growled—a feral sound that sent panic coursing through her.
“You will pay for that,” he muttered through clenched teeth, advancing as she retreated in fear.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she spluttered with false bravado.
“Then you are a fool.” Grabbing her arm, he pulled her forward and she fell against his chest with a cry.
“Let me go!” she protested, trying to push away from him, but he was as immovable as a rock.
“If you think I’m going to let you deceive my brother, then think again.”
His warning raked down her spine like a nail across a board, sending unpleasant shivers all over her body. But even as she trembled against him, she forced herself to meet his eyes.
“I would never do that to Leandro.”
His eyes blazed at the way she said his brother’s name, like a gentle caress, and it infuriated him that she spoke Leandro’s name with intimate familiarity while she looked at him as though he was the dirt under her shoes.
“You won’t, because I won’t let you,” he hissed, his breath hot on her face. “Don’t think you can waltz away from me with my child in your belly.”
“Your child?” The venom in her words caught him by surprise and Raquel picked that moment to push away from him.
“Your child?” she scoffed. “How do you even know it’s yours?
” Outraged that he had the audacity to call her child his when he had ordered her to get rid of it, she lashed out.
She wanted to draw blood—hurt him like he had hurt her.
She’d believed he was a good man, but he didn’t afford her the same courtesy. He thought she was immoral—a promiscuous woman who slept around whilst on the cusp of marriage.
Nothing could have been farther from the truth.
That night, she’d been vulnerable—had been confused, and terrified at the loss of control over her own life. It had been one night of recklessness, one night of rebellion, one night of unprecedented events that had resulted in her sleeping with him.
“Are you saying the child is not mine?”
She heard both despair and disbelief in his voice as he glared at her. A dark emotion filled his eyes before he masked it, quickly pulling on an impassive expression which chilled her to the bone.
“Answer me!”
“It’s mine!” she shot back, shocking him.
His lips thinned, and a nerve ticked frantically at his temple, the only two external indications that he was enraged. “So that’s how you’re going to play it.” Though uttered calmly, his words had a dangerous edge that warned her to stand down.
Warning messages clanged loudly in her head.
Get away from him! Don’t needle him! He is dangerous!
But Raquel paid no heed to the words of caution ringing in her head.
She wouldn’t back down. All her life, she’d been submissive.
It was the only way to exist in a family where everyone fought to excel and exceed each other’s expectations.
That’s how she’d earned her reputation, too.
The quiet DaCosta. The timid daughter. The mousy sister.
And she had been okay with it all because until now, no one expected anything from her. But not anymore. The child in her womb needed her to be strong—to be brave. This child needed her love and—protection.
“Are you going to pretend there is no child and go ahead with this wedding then?” Alexandre queried, one eyebrow raised mockingly.
Raquel resented his contemptuous tone. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she retorted, experiencing a perverse pleasure when pain flickered across his face. “You’d prefer it if there was no child.”
“Yes,” he replied—unblinking, killing the triumphant feeling she’d just experienced. “I’ve never wanted children, but now...”
“This child is mine, Alexandre,” she riposted, angry tears filling her eyes as his cruel words empierced her heart.
She had wanted to hurt him, instead it was he who had succeeded in drawing blood.
“You needn’t worry about this child. You gave up every right to it when you failed to believe this child is yours. I will raise this child myself.”
“And what will you tell Leandro?”
She pursed her lips, unable to speak past the pain radiating from her fragmenting heart. If she thought he would fight for his child, he didn’t. And that hurt even more.
“Will you take my brother into your bed and make love with him—convince him this child is his?”
Horrified by his words, she could only gape at him. Who was this cold, calculating man who had no qualms saying awful things about her and his brother? Where was the compassionate man she had given her virginity to?
“Or will you just get rid of it?”
****
A lexandre watched Raquel storm out of the study, and despite wanting to chase after her, he didn’t.
Instead, he stood in the study, trembling with rage.
His heart was pounding madly, and so was his head.
Fingers clenched into tight fists at his side as he struggled with the need to punch something—hard, but he knew Carlos wouldn’t tolerate chaos in his home.
They’d had more than enough for one night.
He hadn’t expected a heartwarming welcome tonight, and Erica certainly had played the part of evil stepmom well.
But he hadn’t expected to see Raquel here—in his family home!
He refused to think of her as Leandro’s fiancée— he couldn’t ! He couldn’t think of her sharing his brother’s bed, not when she had graced his bed and totally ruined him.
And ruined him she had, he admitted angrily. He hadn’t looked at another woman in weeks. And he had tried.
He’d thrown himself headlong into work, working around the clock but it had done nothing to erase her from his thoughts.
When he dragged his tired body home, he’d loathed the emptiness of his apartment and his cold bed.
He lost count of the times he’d reached for her in his sleep and waking up aching and hungry for her had become a daily occurrence.
Frustrated with himself for behaving like a lovesick pup, he’d thrown a party on one of his yachts, intending on exorcising all memories of Raquel in the arms of another woman, but that didn’t happen.
Instead, when a woman—a barely clothed one—climbed into his lap to kiss him, he was utterly disgusted, prompting him to dump her unceremoniously onto a seat before stalking off to his cabin.
It had cemented the fact that he wanted Raquel—wanted her something fierce. He wasn’t ready to let anyone—not even his brother, take what belonged to him. A tiny voice inside him reminded him that he never became seriously involved with any woman, but he knew he was past that point now.
Raquel was pregnant with his child. Could things get more serious than that?
Ruefully, he admitted that he’d behaved despicably, leaving her alone after their first night together, without a note, or even a phone number to contact him.
This morning too, he’d been just as bad.
The news of the pregnancy had been like a punch to his solar plexus, and his first reaction had been to retaliate—reject her claims. But he regretted his actions—regretted saying those horrible things to her.
And the thought of her in his brother’s bed made his blood boil. The very idea of another man claiming his child and—Raquel, sent rage flooding through his veins.
She had enjoyed goading him, telling him the child wasn’t his, when he knew the child was his. Perhaps he had known all along.
When he had made love to her the second time, even with him being half asleep, he’d sensed their coming together was special. And when he spilled into her, hadn’t he given her not just his seed, but a piece of himself too?
In anger, he’d hit back at her—had questioned her if she would pass off his child as Leandro’s or worse, get rid of the child. If only he could take back his words, because she’d gone awfully pale at his cruel tirade and had stormed out of the room in tears.
He was a bastard—not just by birth, but in the truest sense of the word. He was a despicable man, who had lashed out at the mother of his child upon realizing that she wouldn’t let him near his child, ever.
But he wanted this child more than anything in this world. This child was his only family.
Having had a selfish mother and an absentee father, Alexandre knew firsthand how much a child needed a parent in its life. His own childhood had been miserable, but he vowed not to put his child through the same experience.
With that thought in mind, he went in search of Leandro. He would tell his brother the wedding was off, and then he would find Raquel—and convince her that he wanted both her and their child.