His Unknown Heir (6 page)

Ramon gave her a sardonic look. ‘It will have to be, won’t it?’ He paused and studied her speculatively. ‘Is there anything else you should tell me?’

Her heart almost leapt out of her chest, and her eyes flew to his face. Did he mean Matty? Did he know…? His expression was unfathomable. ‘Wh…what do you mean?’ she stammered.

‘I simply wondered if you had any other engagements booked that I should know about, so that I can arrange viewings of properties around any other commitments you might have.’ Ramon stared at her impatiently. ‘Why are you so edgy, Lauren? And why do I get the impression that you’re hiding something from me?’

Her palms felt clammy, and it took all her will-power to meet his gaze. ‘I really don’t know where you would get such a ridiculous idea from,’ she said, managing to sound coolly dismissive. ‘I’m not hiding anything.’

‘Liar. You are doing your best to hide the fact that you are still attracted to me.’ Ramon suddenly leaned forward, rested one hand on the desk, and placed the other on her nape. ‘But you are not succeeding. Your eyes give you away,
querida
,’ he drawled, before he swooped and captured her mouth in a brief, hard kiss that left her aching for more.

He smiled sardonically at the confused mixture of anger and desire in her eyes, and then released her and strolled across to the door. ‘I’ll see you later,’ he threw over his shoulder—leaving Lauren too emotionally drained to wonder why he had said
later
rather than on Monday.

‘I’m sure Mateo will be walking before he’s a year old. Look how well he’s balancing on his feet.’

Lauren glanced up from her laptop and smiled at the sight of her mother, kneeling on the floor playing with Matty. ‘Do you think he’s advanced for his age?’

‘Goodness, yes.’ Frances Maitland beamed at her little grandson. ‘You were such a cautious baby—you didn’t even crawl until you were eleven months—but he’s so active. He certainly doesn’t get his daring nature from you. He must have inherited it from his fa—’ She stopped abruptly and looked flustered.

‘From his father,’ Lauren finished her mother’s sentence dryly. ‘You
can
say the word you know, Mum.’

‘Well, it seems strange to talk about Matty’s father when I don’t even know his name,’ Frances muttered. ‘I wish you would tell me about him. I don’t know why it’s all so secret.’

Lauren stifled a sigh. ‘I
have
told you about him. He’s a playboy. We had a brief affair, but when I found out I was pregnant I knew he wouldn’t want a child, so I didn’t tell him. End of story.’

Frances sniffed. ‘It’s not right that you have to work so hard to support Matty on your own. You must be entitled to maintenance from his father.’

Lauren shook her head fiercely. ‘I would never demand money for my son. Mateo is my responsibility, and I can give him everything he needs.’ She watched the baby zooming around the carpet on his hands and knees and frowned. ‘I still think he looks a bit flushed. And it’s strange that he didn’t eat his tea. Usually he loves his food. I don’t think I’ll go to the party tonight, in case he’s coming down with something.’

Frances stood up and lifted the chuckling baby into her arms. ‘He’s absolutely fine. You can’t miss the Valentine’s Ball—I thought it was PGH’s big social event of the year?’

‘It is,’ Lauren said heavily.

Alistair Gambrill’s wife organised the ball each year, and a proportion of the ticket money was donated to charity. The law firm’s most prestigious clients were invited, and every member of staff was expected to attend—particularly those who were chasing a promotion, she thought ruefully. She was still reeling from the shock of seeing Ramon again today, and felt in no mood to socialise, but she knew her absence would be noted by the senior partners.

‘Well, maybe I’ll go, but then come home tonight,’ she muttered. The ball was held in a hotel, and the ticket included overnight accommodation so that guests could drink and not have to worry about driving.

‘It’s one night, for goodness’ sake,’ Frances said impatiently. ‘Don’t you trust me to look after my grandson for one night?’

‘Of course I do, but—’ Lauren broke off helplessly when she saw the light of battle in her mother’s eyes. Mateo’s flushed cheeks were probably because it was warm in the flat. He looked the picture of health, with his bright eyes and cheeky grin, and she knew Frances had been looking forward to spending some time with him. ‘All right.’ She gave in. ‘I’ll go.’

‘Good.’ Frances beamed. ‘You never know—you might be swept off your feet by a handsome stranger.’

‘God forbid!’ Lauren said fervently as she pressed the ‘send’ button on her laptop to email the report she had been working on to Ramon. ‘The expression “once bitten, twice shy” has never been more apt.’

Huge, ornate chandeliers illuminated the ballroom and sparkled down on the dozens of guests who were milling about the room. Lauren smiled her thanks to the waiter who offered her a glass of champagne, and smoothed her hand down her dress as she made her way towards the group of senior partners and their wives. Her floor-length black silk-jersey gown was simple but elegant; the diamanté shoulder straps and narrow belt around her waist broke the starkness of the dress, and matched her silver stiletto heels.

It was amazing to think that ten months ago she had looked like a barrage balloon in full flight, she mused when she caught sight of her reflection in a mirror. She was lucky that her stomach had regained its pre-pregnancy flatness, but she had eaten sensibly while she was expecting Mateo, and, thanks to her hectic life of combining work and motherhood, she was actually a few pounds lighter than before she had conceived him.

It made a change to dress up for once, she admitted, feeling a little spurt of confidence when she became aware of the admiring glances from a couple of lawyers from another department of PGH. She continued on her way over to the senior partners, but her steps faltered, and for the second time that day shock drained the blood from her face as she caught sight of a familiar tall, dark figure.

What in the devil’s name was Ramon doing here?

‘Ah, Lauren, delighted you could make it.’ Alistair Gambrill chose that moment to turn his head in her direction, so she had no option but to carry on walking, her heart thudding painfully as she felt Ramon’s intent scrutiny.

‘Good evening.’ She managed a brittle smile for Alistair and the other partners, and somehow forced herself to meet Ramon’s glinting gaze.

‘You and Ramon have met, of course.’ Alistair gave her a faint frown. ‘Actually, I was surprised you hadn’t invited Ramon tonight. I’m sure you are aware that PGH are always delighted to welcome clients to our Valentine’s Ball.’

‘I…’ Hot colour stormed back into Lauren’s face.

‘As a matter of fact, Lauren did issue an invitation,’ Ramon murmured smoothly. ‘I had to decline because of a prior engagement, but that engagement was cancelled just before you telephoned me, Alistair, so I was able to attend the ball after all.’

‘Ah, well. Good!’ Alistair’s face cleared and he gave a jovial smile. ‘Ramon was just saying that he is new to London and isn’t acquainted with any of the other guests here tonight. I know you’ll be delighted to introduce him to people, won’t you, Lauren?’

‘Delighted,’ she assured the senior partner through gritted teeth. She knew she should be grateful to Ramon for covering up her lapse in not inviting him to the ball, but he knew of course that she had deliberately not done so, and his smug smile was infuriating.

‘I will certainly appreciate your company,’ Ramon assured her, pure devilment gleaming in his eyes. ‘Allow me to get you another drink.’

‘New to London!’ she snorted, stalking furiously beside him when he took her elbow and guided her towards the bar. ‘Presumably Alistair is unaware that you’ve slept with just about every woman in the capital between the ages of eighteen and sixty?’ She glared at him when he chuckled, the sound of his sexy laugh causing a squirming sensation in the pit of her stomach. ‘Would you like me to hold your hand while I introduce you around?’ she queried sarcastically.

‘To be honest, I would prefer you to hold another area of my anatomy,
querida
,’ he said dulcetly. ‘But as we are in public I will settle for your hand in mine.’

‘How dare you…?’ Scarlet-cheeked, Lauren tried to snatch her hand from his grasp, but with insulting ease he tugged her onto the dance floor and settled his other hand on her hip, the mocking glint in his eyes warning her that she would come off worst if she caused a scene.

‘Relax,’ he bade her, his breath whispering against her ear as he drew her rigid body closer against his broad chest. ‘You used to enjoy dancing with me.’

But that had been back in the heady days of their affair, when she had kidded herself that he saw her as more than a convenient mistress, Lauren thought bleakly. Now she knew that she could never mean anything to him.

But trying to disguise her intense awareness of him was not her only problem. Far more seriously, most of the PHG staff knew she had a child, and it would only take one unwitting remark to alert Ramon to that fact. Panic surged through her. Perhaps it would be better if she danced with him all night, she thought wildly. At least that way he could not speak to anyone else.

Ramon inhaled the lemony scent of Lauren’s hair, and could not resist sliding his hand up her back to tangle his fingers in the long honey-blonde tresses that she had left loose tonight.
Dios
, she was beautiful. And soon she would be his again, and he would slide his hands not over her dress but across her naked satin-soft skin. He moved his hand down to her
derrière
, and felt the tremor that ran through her when he drew her hard against the throbbing erection straining beneath his trousers. For a second he almost gave in to the temptation to scoop her up and stride out of the ballroom, up to his hotel room, but he forced himself to be patient and bide his time.

‘How about that drink?’ he murmured, a long while later.

Lauren lifted her head from Ramon’s chest and stared at him dazedly, appalled that she had been so seduced by the warmth of his body that she had melted against him. She had no idea how long they had been dancing. All she had been aware of was the sensual, spicy scent of his cologne and the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear.

The heartbeat was such a poignant sound—the drumbeat of life, she thought emotively. When she had been pregnant, hearing her baby’s heartbeat on the monitor at her antenatal appointments had been so exciting. It had been a link with her child—a link that Ramon had never experienced, because she had never told him that she had conceived his baby.

She bit her lip and tore her gaze from the golden-brown eyes that were so like Matty’s. Had she been wrong to deny him his child? she wondered desperately. It was a question that had haunted her constantly over the past months. She had tried to do the right thing for Matty—had been so

afraid that Ramon would not love her baby that she had decided to bring him up on her own. But what if that decision had been wrong? Supposing Ramon would have loved Matty even if he was not the noble heir deemed necessary for the Duque de Velaquez?

Her thoughts swirled in her head until she felt as though her skull was about to split open. Unable to meet Ramon’s gaze, she glanced around the ballroom and realised that many of her work colleagues were staring at her speculatively. Their curiosity was not surprising, since she
had
been snuggled up to PGH’s most prestigious client, she acknowledged grimly. Guy Hadlow was leaning against a pillar, watching her, and his knowing smirk was mortifying.

‘I seem to have monopolised your attention for far too long,’ she said stiffly.

‘I’m not complaining,
querida
.’ Ramon’s confident smile held it all—satisfaction that she had succumbed to his potent charm, and the expectation that he had only to click his fingers and she would fall into his bed.

She had to get away from him before she made an even bigger fool of herself. ‘Actually, I’ve got a headache. Please excuse me,’ she mumbled, and spun away from him before he had a chance to protest.

She walked swiftly across the ballroom, needing to escape the cacophony of noise, the sound of people’s voices and the music. She needed to be alone, to think, as the enormity of her decision to keep Matty a secret from Ramon evoked the nagging guilt that she had tried to push away.

She hurried into the lift and pressed the button to take her to the fifth floor. The door had started to close when a figure appeared, and she gave a silent groan when Guy Hadlow joined her.

‘Off to bed so early, Lauren?’ he taunted.

She ignored him, but he moved closer, trapping her against the wall of the lift. She wrinkled her nose in distaste when she inhaled the strong smell of alcohol on his breath.

‘The question is—whose bed? Are you going to bunk up with your Spanish playboy?’ Guy gave a mocking laugh. ‘No wonder you were picked for the Velaquez job. What did you do? Promise to drop your knickers if he gave you the contract?’

The crack of Lauren’s hand on Guy’s cheek resounded around the lift and he jerked his head back, his mouth thinning to an ugly line.

‘You bitch. I’m only saying what everyone is thinking.’

‘Well, it’s not true.’ Lauren felt sick with shame and misery. She heard the ping of the bell announcing that the lift had arrived at her floor and tried to push past Guy—but he gripped her arms with bruising force.

‘Really? You give it away for free, do you, Lauren?’ the lawyer sneered nastily.

To her horror he hit the button to prevent the lift door from opening. She could tell from his flushed face and glazed eyes that he was seriously drunk, but while she was desperately searching for something to say that would defuse the situation he grabbed one strap of her dress and wrenched it down over her shoulder.

‘For God’s sake, Guy, let me go.’ She could hear the panic in her voice, and shuddered when he lowered his head towards her.

‘I wanted you long before Velaquez,’ he slurred.