His Unknown Heir (3 page)

‘I mean where our relationship is going,’ Lauren said with quiet dignity.

Sick fear churned in her stomach. Under ordinary circumstances Ramon’s forbidding expression would have warned her not to proceed with a conversation that felt horribly as if it was going to smash full-pelt into a brick wall. But these were not ordinary circumstances. She was pregnant with his child, and her instinct to do the best for her baby was more important than her pride.

‘Tell me honestly: do you envisage us having any kind of future together?’ she asked quietly. ‘Or am I just another blonde to temporarily share your bed?’

His silence confirmed what her heart already knew.

Ramon’s eyes narrowed. ‘I have never made false promises, or led you to believe that I wanted more than an affair. You never hid the fact that your career plays a major part in your life, and I thought you were content with a relationship that did not put the pressure of unrealistic expectations on either of us.’

She had never had expectations, Lauren thought sadly. But she had hoped that she was beginning to mean something to him. How could she have been such a fool? she asked herself angrily. She had been blinded by her love for Ramon, and had kidded herself that the companionship they shared was proof that he cared for her. Now she knew that he had only ever regarded her as a convenient mistress—who provided sex and entertaining conversation on demand, but never made demands of her own.

As for her career… Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach. She had worked hard to become a lawyer, and undoubtedly her job was important to her. But in eight months time she was going to take on the most important role a woman could fulfil—and it looked increasingly as though she was going to be bringing up her baby on her own.

She stared at Ramon’s perfectly sculpted features and her heart clenched. ‘Things change,’ she said huskily. ‘Life can’t stay the same or we would stagnate. How do you see
your
future, Ramon? I mean…’ her voice shook slightly ‘…do you ever want to marry?’

This was not how he had envisaged spending his first night back in London, Ramon thought furiously. Up until now he had been clinging to the hope that this new Lauren, who had broken the unwritten rules of their liaison by demanding to discuss it, would suddenly metamorphose back into the familiar, delightfully easygoing Lauren, whose sole aim had always seemed to be to please him in bed. He was outraged that she had brought up the thorny subject of marriage, but now that she had asked he did not intend to lie to her.

‘The Velaquez family are among the oldest members of the Spanish nobility, and can trace their ancestors back to the eleventh century,’ he told her harshly. ‘As the only son of the Duque de Velaquez it is my duty to marry a bride from another aristocratic Spanish family and provide an heir to continue the bloodline of Velaquez.’

‘You’re the son of a
duke
?’ Lauren said faintly, stunned by the revelation. She had thought that the supreme self-confidence which sometimes revealed itself as arrogance was simply his nature. But he was a titled member of the Spanish nobility—it was small wonder he had a regal air about him.

‘The title will pass to me on the death of my father,’ Ramon said tersely, feeling a shaft of pain when he thought of his father’s prognosis. The Duque had always been a strict, rather remote parent, and Ramon’s childhood had been dominated by rules and stifling formality, but sadly lacking in displays of affection. He had always respected his father, but it was only now that he realised he also loved him, and it was for that reason more than any other that he intended to one day fulfil his duty and marry a woman suitable to fill the role of Duquesa.

He stared grimly at Lauren, and was infuriated by the hurt he could see in her grey eyes.
Dios
, he had never given her any reason to believe that their affair might lead to him offering her a permanent place in his life. They had a good routine that suited both of them, and he wished they could abandon this discussion that had no purpose and lose themselves in the fiery passion that had blazed between them from the moment they had first met.

He took a deep breath. Perhaps, if he was patient, he could salvage the evening. Now that he had explained his situation to Lauren he could see no reason why their affair should not continue. Duty beckoned him, but, his father’s illness aside, he was in no hurry to sacrifice his freedom and choose a bride.

‘What is the point in worrying about the future when the present is so enjoyable?’ he murmured, stepping closer to her and lifting his hand to stroke her hair back from her face. She instantly shrank away from him, and his jaw hardened.

How could she do anything else
but
worry about the future? Lauren thought wildly. ‘Let me get this straight. You intend to marry—not necessarily for love—you will choose a bride who is of suitably noble birth in order to have a child—presumably it will have to be a boy—who will carry on your family name,’ she said slowly.

Ramon’s mouth tightened at her insistence on carrying on with the conversation when he had made it clear that he wanted to drop it. ‘As I have explained, it is my duty to ensure the continuation of the Velaquez line,’ he said curtly. ‘When my father dies I will return to Spain to live at the historic family home, the Castillo del Toro, and it is important that I have a son who will one day take my place.’

‘You live in a castle!’ Maybe this was all part of some horrible nightmare, Lauren thought desperately, and soon she would wake up and find that Ramon had
not
turned into an icy stranger who inhabited the rarefied world of the Spanish nobility which an ordinary English lawyer from Swindon could never belong to.

Duty was such a cold word, she thought with a shiver. Ramon did not sound as though he planned to have a child because he wanted to be a father, but because it was necessary for him to produce an heir. But would he want the baby she was carrying? Would he demand that she marry him so that his half-English child would be his legal heir? Or—and this seemed more likely—would he offer her money? Maybe buy somewhere for her and the baby to live and pay his illegitimate child the occasional duty visit, retaining his freedom to marry a woman suitable to be his
duquesa
, who could give him a child with noble Spanish blood running through its veins?

A primitive maternal instinct to protect her child swept through Lauren. She stared at Ramon and saw him for what he really was—a ruthless billionaire businessman. It struck her then that she had never known him at all. He had acted the role of charming lover, but he had never allowed her to see the real man, the son of a
duque
, whose home was a castle. And in that moment she decided that she must keep her baby a secret from him. Ramon needed an heir to continue the Velaquez name, but her baby deserved a father who would love it unconditionally. It would be better for her child to have no father at all than one who did not love it, and would perhaps make him or her feel inadequate and not worthy of the Velaquez name.

Never the most patient of men, Ramon had suddenly had enough of being grilled by Lauren. ‘Is there any point to this conversation?’ he demanded explosively.

She hesitated, sure that the painful thudding of her heart could not be good for the baby. ‘I think there is,’ she said sombrely. ‘I felt it was time to establish what kind of relationship we have, and it’s clear that we view things very differently. I am
not
your mistress,’ she insisted fiercely, when he lifted his brows sardonically.

His eyes dropped deliberately to the sexy silk bustier that barely covered her breasts. ‘Yet, like a good mistress, you dressed to please me,’ he drawled, his mouth curving into a hard smile when she blushed scarlet and frantically pulled the laces together. ‘A mistress is all you can ever be to me,
querida
.’ He could not pretend that there were any other possibilities.

The careless endearment tore at her heart, but she refused to cry in front of him. The tears could come later, when she was alone—which was likely to be for a very long time, she thought dismally.

‘In that case I would like to go home,’ she whispered. ‘And…and I won’t be coming back.’

Incredulity ripped through Ramon, but his disbelief that Lauren appeared to be dumping him swiftly turned to outrage. Although he had ended more affairs than he cared to remember, no woman had ever broken up with
him
before.

‘
Dios!
What do you expect from me?’ he demanded furiously. ‘Would you rather I made false promises I can never keep?’ He did not want to lose her, but he was certainly not going to plead with her to change her mind. It was not as if he needed her. There were plenty more attractive blondes willing to share his bed.

He regarded her arrogantly, the noble lines of his illustrious ancestry etched onto his perfectly sculpted features. ‘If you really want to leave then I will arrange for my driver to take you home,’ he informed her in an icy tone. ‘But once you walk out of the door our arrangement is over, and I will not have you back.’

Lauren felt numb beyond words as it hit her that this really was the end. ‘I just want to go,’ she said huskily. She stiffened when he caught her chin and forced her face up to meet his angry gaze. Tension throbbed between them. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, and she despaired that she would have the strength to resist him, but then he swore savagely and flung her from him.

‘Go, then,’ he said savagely. And without another word she fled.

CHAPTER ONE

E
IGHTEEN
months later, Lauren hurried through the open-plan office of the big City law firm where she worked, and gave a silent groan when she checked the time on her watch. The staccato tap of her stiletto heels on the tiled floor came to an abrupt halt when Guy Hadlow stepped in front of her.

‘The old man has been asking for you since nine o’clock this morning. He wants to see you in his office as soon as you arrive.’ Guy gave her a malicious grin. ‘You’re forty-five minutes late. Did you fancy a lie-in? You look like you had a heavy night.’

‘Not that my being late is any of your business, but it’s snowing in the North London suburbs and my train was cancelled,’ Lauren told him tersely.

Like her, Guy was a lawyer at Plessy, Gambrill and Hess, working in the commercial property department. The only son of a wealthy banker, he was used to having what he wanted. Lauren’s polite but consistent refusal to date him had revealed an unpleasant side to his nature. The fact that they were now in competition for the same promotion had exacerbated the hostility between them.

As for her having a lie-in! That would be the day, she thought ruefully. Her ten-month-old son, Mateo, was cutting another tooth, and Lauren couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a full night’s sleep. Matty had woken at five that morning, and after she had given him his early-morning bottle and changed his nappy she had showered, dressed, loaded the washing machine and unloaded the dishwasher before bundling him into his all-in-one suit and into the car.

The icy roads had caused the traffic to crawl, the usual ten-minute drive to the daycare nursery had taken double that, and when she had finally arrived she’d had no time to do more than thrust Mateo into the arms of one of the staff before dashing off to the station. The sound of his pitiful sobs had haunted her throughout her journey to work, and she was in no mood to put up with Guy’s sarcastic wit.

‘Do you know why Mr Gambrill wants to see me?’

Guy shrugged. ‘I’m just the messenger boy. But it’s a pity you chose this morning to turn up late. That won’t help your chances of promotion.’

‘I didn’t
choose
to be late,’ Lauren snapped, feeling her stomach swoop down towards her toes. Alistair Gambrill headed the commercial property department at PGH—a senior partner who did not suffer fools gladly and was a stickler for punctuality. But if he had asked to see her at nine o’clock he could not have known then that she had been delayed, so it was unlikely that he wanted to discuss her time-keeping, Lauren reasoned.

Brow furrowed in a frown as she silently debated the reason for the summons, she dumped her coat and handbag on her desk and hurried along the corridor towards her boss’s office suite. His PA was speaking on the phone, and while she waited she made a lightning study of her appearance in the mirror behind the secretary’s desk.

Her pillar-box-red suit was stylish and defiantly bright on yet another grey February day. Her crisp white blouse added a touch of professionalism, and thankfully there was no sign of the blob of baby sick on her shoulder, which she had scrubbed off on her way out of her flat that morning. But Guy was right. The dark circles beneath her eyes which could not be completely concealed with foundation
were
an indication of regular sleepless nights.

The joys of being a single mother, she thought heavily. Yet, given the choice, she would not change things. Her son had been unexpected and unplanned, but she loved him with a fierce intensity that was beyond anything she had ever experienced. Just thinking about Matty’s darling little face, his shock of black hair and enormous sherry-brown eyes made her heart clench.

The PA put down the phone and gave Lauren a brief smile. ‘Go straight in. Mr Gambrill is waiting for you.’

Had there been a tiny emphasis on the word
waiting
? As she opened the door Lauren made a frantic mental checklist of recently completed assignments, as well as the current commercial property transactions she was working on. Had she made a mistake that she was unaware of? Had a client filed a complaint about her work? The purchase of a new office block for a well-known City bank was taking longer than expected after problems had arisen with the wording of the lease.

‘Ah, Lauren.’

To her surprise Alistair Gambrill sounded delighted to see her, rather than annoyed at her lateness. But she barely heard him. As she entered the office her eyes were riveted on the second man in the room, who rose to his feet and subjected her to an arrogant scrutiny that made her blood run cold.

Her steps faltered. Every muscle in her body clenched in fierce rejection and she could feel the blood drain from her face. This could not be happening, she thought dazedly. Ramon could not be here, strolling towards her with the easy grace she remembered so well.

Alistair’s attention was focused on his guest, so he was oblivious to the fact that his member of staff had whitened to the colour of the pristine blotting pad on his desk. ‘Lauren, I’d like you to meet our new client, Ramon Velaquez. Ramon, may I introduce one of PGH’s finest commercial property lawyers, Lauren Maitland?’

One of the company’s finest lawyers! That was news to her, Lauren thought blankly. But Alistair was smiling at her as if she was his favourite niece. He was clearly keen to impress Ramon, and she sensed his impatience as he waited for her to speak.

She could feel her heart slamming against her ribs. Should she reveal to Alistair that she was already acquainted with the client? She choked back a hysterical laugh.
Acquainted
seemed such an old-fashioned word, but what else could she say—that she and Ramon had once been lovers? Would
he
explain that they knew each other?

Somehow she forced her throat to work. ‘Mr Velaquez.’

‘Ramon, please. Let us dispense with formality.’

His voice was just as Lauren remembered it: deep, melodious, with a faint huskiness that was spine-tinglingly sexy. It tugged on her soul like a siren’s song, drawing her gaze inexorably to his face.

Matty had his father’s eyes, she thought faintly. The likeness between them was almost uncanny. When her son had been born and the midwife had placed him in her arms she had stared in awe at his tiny face and been reminded of Ramon. But her joy had been tinged with an aching sadness that he was not with her to welcome their child into the world. She had never expected to see him again, but now, unbelievably, he was here in Alistair Gambrill’s office, and she was overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions that stormed through her.

‘I’m pleased to meet you, Lauren.’ Only Ramon could make her name sound so sensual, his discernible accent lingering over the vowels like a lover’s caress, causing the tiny hairs on her arms to stand on end.

Her face suddenly felt hot as the blood moved in her veins once more. Even worse was the instant effect Ramon had on her body, and she bit back a gasp when she felt her nipples tighten so that they strained uncomfortably against the lacy restriction of her bra.

Why was he here? she wondered fearfully, tension knotting in her stomach. Could he have found out about Mateo? She glanced desperately at Alistair. Everyone at PGH knew she had a son. Had her boss unwittingly revealed her secret by explaining to Ramon that her lateness this morning might have been due to childcare issues?

She fought the frantic urge to turn and flee from Ramon’s speculative gaze. Alistair had introduced him as a new client, she reminded herself. He
couldn’t
be here because of Matty. But he had known the name of the law firm she had moved to shortly before they had broken up, and she was sure his presence at PGH was not merely coincidence. Nothing Ramon ever did was unplanned.

What game was he playing? she wondered. But it was easier to go along with it in front of Alistair than to admit to a history that was well and truly in the past. Pride and professionalism were her only weapons against Ramon’s lethal charm, and she called on both, forcing her lips to curve into a polite smile as she extended her hand. ‘And I am delighted to meet you…’ She paused infinitesimally while she steeled herself to say his name. ‘Ramon.’

In the few brief seconds before his hand closed around hers she allowed her gaze to roam over him. It was only eighteen months since she had last seen him, but he looked older. Still stunningly handsome, but there were a few faint lines around his eyes, and his aristocratic features seemed harder somehow, his skin drawn tight over his slashing cheekbones. The silky black hair that had once touched his collar was now cropped short—less jet-setting playboy, more billionaire businessman, she mused.

She had read in the newspapers of his father’s death a year ago. Ramon was now CEO of Velaquez Conglomerates, which included among its business interests the famous Velaquez winery, a bank, and a chain of five-star hotels around the world. He must also have assumed the title of Duque de Velaquez, she realised. But then her thoughts scattered as his hand clasped hers, his strong, tanned fingers contrasting starkly with her paler skin, and the contact of flesh on flesh sent an electrical current shooting up her arm and a quiver of reaction down her spine.

Ramon studied Lauren in a leisurely appraisal, frowning slightly as he felt his body’s involuntary response to her. His arousal was instant and embarrassingly hard. He was not a testosterone-fuelled youth, he reminded himself, irritated to discover that his desire for her had not lessened in the year and a half since he had last seen her.

She was wearing the scarlet suit she had worn the night she had abruptly ended their relationship—although today she had teamed it with a demure white blouse rather than the black silk bustier that had displayed her breasts like plump velvety peaches. Her close-fitting jacket showed off her slim waist, while her pencil-skirt moulded her hips and stopped several inches above her knees to reveal long slender legs in sheer hose. Black patent stiletto heels added another three inches to her height and made her legs seem even longer—he wondered if she still liked to wear stockings.

He inhaled swiftly, and tore his eyes and his over-active imagination away from her legs. Her face was attractive, rather than pretty, oval in shape, with creamy skin, intelligent grey eyes beneath hazel brows. Her dark honey-blonde was hair swept up into a chignon.

What was it about this woman that he found such a turn-on? Ramon wondered irritably. He had dated some of the world’s most beautiful women—actresses and models whose looks were their fortune. Only this graceful English rose had taken him to the edge of sexual insanity.

The passion they had shared had been mind-blowing—the best he’d ever known. Although he had refused to admit the intensity of his need for her during their affair. The last eighteen months had passed swiftly—his father’s illness and subsequent death had been followed by a period of mourning, while at the same time he had taken his place at the head of the company, endeavouring to please shareholders and trying to comfort his mother and sisters. There had been little time for introspection, yet memories of Lauren—the silky softness of her hair, her taut, slender body, the soft cries she let out when he made love to her—had continued to invade his mind.

She had become a thorn in his flesh, he acknowledged grimly. A persistent ache that he had put down to sexual frustration but which, for some reason, he had been unable to assuage with other women. Now he was back in London to oversee a business project—but it was also an ideal opportunity to discover if his lingering sexual attraction to his ex-mistress was real, or a memory that he should have dismissed from his mind months ago.

‘Please have a seat, Ramon. I know you have a tight schedule, and we have plenty to discuss.’ Alistair Gambrill’s voice sliced through the aching silence, although the man seemed unaware of the tension in the room.

Lauren tried to pull her hand free from Ramon’s grasp, but he retained his hold for few more seconds, his eyes narrowing on her flushed face before he finally released her.

He already had his answer, Ramon brooded. His desire for Lauren was not imagined. In fact his imagination was enjoying a highly erotic fantasy in which they were alone in the office and she was spread across the desk, with her skirt rucked up around her waist and her long, shapely legs wrapped around him.

Eighteen months ago he had been furious when she had walked out on him, and had vowed to dismiss her from his mind. But he had been unable to forget her. There was still unfinished business between them. The flare of emotion in her eyes when she had first entered Alistair Gambrill’s office, and the slight tremble of her hand when she had placed it in his were evidence that she was not as immune to him as her cool smile would have him believe.

Lauren’s legs were trembling as the shock of Ramon’s unexpected appearance seeped through her, and she sank weakly onto the chair next to him. She had no idea why Alistair had summoned her to meet this new client, but while she was trying to guess the reason the senior lawyer cleared his throat.

‘I have studied your remit, Ramon, and it all seems straightforward. As I understand it, Velaquez Conglomerates are looking to purchase a number of suitable commercial properties in London, with the intention of applying for planning permission to run these establishments as wine bars.’

Ramon nodded. ‘That’s correct. I would like to open two, maybe three bars here in the capital. I already have a shortlist of potential properties suggested by estate agents, and what I require is a commercial property lawyer who will work exclusively on this project and who has additional expertise in planning and development laws.’

He turned his head and looked directly at Lauren, his predatory smile reminding her of a wolf stalking its prey. ‘Put simply, I need
you
, Lauren. I understand that you have specialised particularly in Town and Country planning matters, and I believe you are best suited to advise me on any potential problems with the properties I am interested in.’

She gaped at him, her mind reeling in horror as it sank in that he seemed to be suggesting that he wanted her to work for him. ‘There are several other commercial property lawyers at PGH who are more qualified and experienced than I am—and who I am sure would suit your requirements b-better,’ she stammered quickly, glancing frantically at Alistair for confirmation.