too ironic really. Roger Cahill emailed me the documents. He dug them up while looking for dirt on you. Funny, huh?”
“You have been in touch with Cahill?” It shouldn’t surprise him, but it did. Cahill had been the financial power behind the company fighting him over the Dubai property, though there was no evidence he was connected to Alejandro’s corporate spy. No doubt Rebecca had been in close contact with Cahill the entire time, though she’d been in no position to learn anything truly useful to report back. Strangely, the thought she would even want to stung him.
“I asked him what happened five years ago,” Rebecca said, sniffling. “Perhaps you should have done the same.”
“I know what happened,” he snapped. How many times did he have to remember it?
“No, you really don’t.” Her chin thrust out as she drew herself up. “My father killed your deal, so yes, the Laytons tried to ruin you. I think he must have been angry because you hurt me, but I don’t know for sure. I suppose you can blame me if you want, but then you need to blame yourself as well. If you hadn’t had a fiancée—or whatever you want to call her—none of this would have happened.”
Blame himself? What the hell was she talking about? It was her fault. He took a step forward, but to do what he wasn’t sure.
The doorbell rang and he stopped, shook his head. Señora Flores’s footsteps pattered down the hall.
“That’ll be my taxi,” Rebecca said. “I recommend John Barnes as the new CEO.”
Surprise rooted Alejandro to the spot. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. He was the one in control, the one who determined when and how everything happened. She could not walk out on him again. He wouldn’t allow it.
“You are running away? What about your company?”
“What should I do? Stay and wait for you to fire me?” She shook her head. “Layton International’s not mine anymore, is it? You made sure of that. Now it’s time I get on with my life.”
When she shouldered past him, he gripped her arm, a hot feeling he didn’t understand seizing him in a chokehold. “This isn’t over.”
She shuddered in revulsion. Her gaze settled on his hand, lifted to meet his stare. “Yes, it is. Goodbye, Alejandro.”
She picked his hand off her arm. The touch of her skin seared him. He had a primeval urge to grab her, haul her to the bedroom and lock her inside until she smiled at him again. Until she made love to him like he was the only man in the world.
But he didn’t say anything as she turned and walked to the door. What was there to say? He’d won, hadn’t he? He had Layton International. Rebecca had nothing. It’s what he’d dreamed of for five years. All he’d wanted.
He didn’t know how long he stood in the darkened foyer, but when he finally looked up, long shadows had crept across the tiles.
It was finally over. Rebecca was gone.
24
New York in summer was predictably sweltering. Rebecca made it back to her air-conditioned apartment building before she wilted and headed for the elevator. She didn’t want to think about what she’d bought at the drugstore, but there was no getting around it. The paper bag was small, but what it contained could change the course of her life.
It had been a month since she’d walked out of Alejandro’s house in Madrid. And she hadn’t had a period yet.
Fishing in her purse for her keys, she stopped in front of her door. Her apartment was cool and spacious as she stepped inside. She locked the door, took the pregnancy test from the paper bag, and went into the bathroom to pee on the stick.
She thought about calling her friend, Charlotte, but ultimately decided she had to do this alone. Charlotte had enough to do with her job as a party planner these days. She’d already been a great support when Rebecca needed a sympathetic ear after returning from Madrid, but Rebecca didn’t need to call her for this one simple thing.
She could do this alone. She opened the test, peed on it, and set the stick down on the sink, staring at it until the answer came.
Pink. Pregnant.
Rebecca’s knees gave out and she slumped onto the toilet. Maybe she should have called Charlotte just for the moral support. Charlotte wouldn’t judge her.
Rebecca pushed a shaky hand through her hair and tried to imagine how she’d gotten pregnant. She