Filthy Rich Revenge: A Filthy Rich Billionaires Book - Lynn Raye Harris Page 0,73

mind as he zipped through traffic on the way home.

Had he been blind? Stupid? Had he allowed his desire for his wife to overpower his razor-sharp instincts?

He’d thought she might be falling in love with him, falling for him the way he was starting to fall for her. What if everything she did, every caress and kiss and sweet sigh, was nothing more than a lie?

He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear another betrayal right now, and he couldn’t bear the thought that he and Rebecca would always be sparring behind the scenes like his parents did. He didn’t want that life. It was bad enough having to be a part of his parents’ drama, but to have it in his own home?

It had never been a possibility before. With Caridad, he’d been indifferent. She hadn’t mattered. They went their separate ways after Anya was born, and they’d remained that way until Alejandro divorced her.

But Rebecca was different. She did matter—and that was the worst betrayal of all.

“Thank you for the tea, Señora Flores,” Rebecca said. The other woman smiled and dipped her head in a nod before retreating to the kitchen. Rebecca couldn’t help but grin. She’d been convinced, when she’d first arrived, that Señora Flores had hated her. Now the woman took pains to pamper her.

It might only be because of the baby, but Rebecca thought maybe there was a little more to it when she remembered how irritated the woman had seemed with Alejandro over the prenuptial agreement. Rebecca didn’t blame him, but his housekeeper apparently did.

Rebecca lounged at the table on the terrace, beneath the bougainvillea, studying a fat book compiled by the decorator that Alejandro had hired. She’d wanted to paint the baby’s room herself, had wanted to order fabrics and toys and pick out her own rocking chair. But Alejandro insisted it would be easier with a professional’s help. The woman he sent understood Rebecca’s urges and made a book with many samples to choose from. She also recommended combinations that went together.

It was, Rebecca thought with a sigh, far easier than her plan had been. It was also thoughtful of Alejandro to recognize that she needed the help. The idea of him doing so made her happy.

“What would you like, baby?” she asked, flipping pages. “White wicker? Mahogany? Oak? Will we need pink or blue?”

They would not know the baby’s sex for a few weeks yet, though she was secretly hoping for a girl. Little girls’ clothes were so cute. And since Rebecca was new at this mother thing, she figured she would understand a little girl better than a little boy. Perhaps the next one would be a boy.

A boy with Alejandro’s smile. That would be nice. More than nice.

She thought of last night when Alejandro had taken her to bed. He’d made love to her so tenderly and hotly, and then he’d gathered her close and fallen asleep. When she’d awakened and he wasn’t there, she’d gone looking for him. The sadness and pain in his expression had nearly undone her. She’d gone to him, hugged him, and vowed as fiercely as she could that their baby would be fine. She knew she couldn’t promise, but she’d done so anyway.

It was a different life than she’d anticipated, being Alejandro’s wife, but she didn’t hate it. Yes, she missed the excitement and challenge of running her own company—but she didn’t miss the hours on planes, the late nights crunching numbers or negotiating deals, the endless meetings and red tape that came with building new hotels in different parts of the world.

It was nice to sit in the hot Spanish sun and simply be. She would find new challenges to conquer, but for now she was focused on having a healthy and happy baby.

A movement in the doorway caught her eye. “Alejandro,” she exclaimed, jumping up just a little too excitedly.

Did she have to be so transparent? Surely he knew she adored him in spite of her best intentions not to give away the secret. She wanted him to know, and yet she was afraid as well. It was self-preservation not to let him see how deeply she cared. Maybe one day everything would fall together, and he would love her too.

But right now, he looked stormy. Stony.

Furious.

Her steps faltered. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at work? Is everything okay?”

“Is something wrong at work?” he snapped. “I think you know very well something is wrong! Dios, how did I ever fall for this