The Billionaire Baby Bombshell (11 page)

Yelena ground to a halt, forcing Carlos to stop, too. “Tell me what happened, Carlos.”

“About…?”

“Between you and Alex. You were business partners. You were
friends
. And now—”

“What’s
he
said?” Carlos efficiently flicked a small leaf from his sharp collar.

“Nothing. He refuses to talk about it.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Carlos raised one perfect eyebrow before turning back to the path. With a growl of annoyance, Yelena followed.

“Well, look who his father is—a man who went from poverty to topping Australia’s rich list. Of course he’s not going to tell you he screwed up.”

They finally reached the sweeping courtyard of Merlot, Diamond Bay’s most popular wine bar.

Yelena grabbed his sleeve, bringing him to a halt. “What do you mean, ‘screwed up’?”

Carlos sighed and crossed his arms. “Sprint Travel isn’t doing well.”

What?
Why hadn’t Alex told her? “How? Management? Capital? Advertising?”

“Lots of things I won’t get into.”
It’s over your head so don’t worry about it,
his look said. Yelena’s eyebrows ratcheted up at the barely veiled insult. “I’ll have to take it to the courts.”

“You’re going to
fight
him for the company?”

“I’m surprised you don’t know this, considering all you’re doing for him.” His expression tightened before quickly smoothing out. “I have no choice,” he added matter-of-factly. “Sprint Travel can’t survive with Alex Rush at the helm.” He gave her arm a pat for good measure. “And Alex will do anything to get the upper hand with the business. Including—” he dropped his gaze, unable to meet her eyes “—using you to get to me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Carlos gave her a hurt look. “I’m just looking out for you, Yelena. I’ve dealt with men like Alex before. He’ll stop at nothing to get what they want. Now, are you coming in for a drink?”

She shook her head slowly, then watched Carlos shrug, pity and regret on his handsome face. That couldn’t be right.
Alex wasn’t like that. And he wouldn’t withhold that kind of information.

The realization that this was much bigger than she’d first thought lay like fiery leaden chains across her chest. It followed her as she left Carlos and went back to the party, dogged her steps as she put on her happy face and mingled with the guests while she looked for Alex.

She found him in front of a camera, being interviewed for a national news channel. On first glance he appeared relaxed and confident with one hand in his pocket, one gesturing as he talked. Yet even from this distance she could tell he was out of his comfort zone: the rigid jaw and shoulders, for one. The small tight lines around his mouth. Even his casual, wide-legged stance. The body language in all his press footage said the same thing: “I’d rather be somewhere else.”

“…one final question, Mr. Rush,” the female presenter was saying. “How are you coping now, nine months on from your acquittal of your father’s death?”

Every muscle in his body appeared to stiffen. His hands clenched, eyes narrowing to forbidding slits.

Yelena stepped forward. “Hello, Val. You
do
know a person can’t be acquitted for something they were never charged with?” She casually glanced around. “I thought Mark was on this piece.”

Val Marchetta shrugged her thin shoulders and tilted her head, an affected gesture meant to encourage confidences. “They sent me instead. Fancy seeing you here, Yelena.” The icy smile mirrored in her wide, perfectly made-up eyes.

“Yes. Excuse me,” she said, smiling politely. “Alex, could I see you for a moment?”

She took his arm, smiled again at the now-frowning Val then firmly led him away.

“You didn’t have to rescue me,” he said tightly as they kept on walking.

“Just think of it as preempting a possible awkward moment.”
She threw a brief glance back over her shoulder. “And when Val puts the pieces together, our business relationship will no longer be private.”

Alex shrugged. “It had to happen eventually.”

They were finally outside, pausing in a corner where brief shadows gently merged, cooling the early evening. The dozen questions teetering on her tongue all dissolved into a soft murmur of surprise when Alex swiftly pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Purpose immediately melted into divine pleasure. His hands held her face, trapping her mouth in a sensual prison and with a half sigh, half groan, she kissed him back.

For minutes they indulged in the simple, erotic pleasure of sharing mouths and tongues, oblivious to the party in full swing inside, to the people walking and mingling not two meters away. Minutes in which Yelena forgot what she’d marched over to say, forgot her exchange with Carlos…hell, she even forgot her name at one point.

When Alex finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless and heavy eyed.

“Do you want to leave?” he asked, voice husky.

“I can’t.”

“I didn’t ask if you could. I asked if you wanted to.”

More than you know.
“Alex, I’m working. Did you talk to the press—the
other
press?” she added.

He sighed. “I did. So did Pam.”

“No hiccups? Everything’s going smoothly?”

“From what I can see.” But at her look, he paused. “Except..?”

“Carlos.”

“Ahh.” Slowly he released her and took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Did you invite him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

To show you how manipulative and selfish he is.
“Because I know how much he means to you.”

The look on her face was inscrutable. “He’s been making accusations.”

“About?”

“Sprint Travel’s on the rocks.”

“It is,” he said slowly.

She sucked in a breath. “You’re paying a small fortune for B&H to represent you and you fail to tell me this? Are you crazy? Or do you really not care what I’m trying to do here?”

Alex’s expression tightened. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, how I wish people would stop telling me that! This is why you and Carlos had a falling out, right?”

“Yes.”

“But—” she crossed her arms “—that’s not all.”

Alex seesawed between two truths while his gut pitched. He wanted her to
see
the real Carlos, not just tell her. Why should she believe him over her flesh-and-blood brother?

“It’s—”

“Complicated. Right.”

This was not going well.

“If you could just give me some time to—”

“Was the other night just a way to get back at my brother?”

He had to hand it to her, she had style. She delivered that question so calmly she could’ve been inquiring about the weather. Impassive face, straight back. Yet through the businesslike façade, Alex knew he’d hurt her.

Damn.
“Yelena.” He moved to take her hand but she just stepped back, one eyebrow raised. He squelched a frown, guilty as hell. “That night, it was just you and me. I was thinking of nothing else, had no ulterior motive except pleasure. Yours and mine.”

He’d never wanted someone to believe him more at this
moment. Even after all those months of speculation and repeated interrogation by the cops, Yelena’s belief meant everything right now.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

For one stupid, insane moment it was revenge. Not now
. He couldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t bear to see the hurt in those wide depths. A disgusted murmur echoed in his throat, self-loathing rising up to choke him.

As the silence and growing distance thundered between them, the cheerful sounds of the party breezed by on the cooling air, paradoxically highlighting the moment with almost vulgar emphasis.

His tongue refused to work, words sticking inside his mouth. Yet at her raised eyebrow, he finally settled on “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Really?” she got out, her frosty look now glacial. “Wow. Imagine if you tried.”

“Yelena—”

“Don’t, Alex. I can’t…” She shook her head firmly. “I need to feed Bella and put her to bed.”

Then she was gone.

O
n swift, urgent feet, Yelena clicked into the main marquee, yet just as she was about to enter, a jagged sob caught her throat.

Mortified, she quickly stepped back, swallowing that horrible vulnerability down.
You can’t cry. Not here, not now.

Sheer willpower forced back the tears, sent steel into her composure and determination into every muscle. With a quick toss of her head she stepped inside.

It took under a minute to find her daughter, the center of attention in a bunch of cooing women. Despite her swirling thoughts, Yelena managed a smile. Pam had Bella cradled securely over her shoulder, doing that familiar, slow step-sway dance every mother did to comfort a baby.

She moved forward.

“It’s getting close to six—time to feed Bella,” she said, careful to ensure Pam knew she was there before putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

Pam turned and smiled. “I hope you’re coming back to the party.”

Yelena nodded. “I’ll see how it goes. The staff seem to have things under control.”

A movement caught her eye and Yelena glanced across. Alex stood at the exit.

Their eyes met and despite the horrible truth she now knew, Yelena felt every nerve in her body charge.

“Yelena?”

“Mmm?”

“I can take Bella if you want.”

Yelena took a deep breath and refocused on Pam. “I’m sorry?”

The older woman was smiling in a way that Yelena couldn’t fail to interpret. “I can go and put Bella down if you want to—that is, I mean…”

Now they were both embarrassed. “No, that’s okay,” Yelena assured her, her skin flushing with guilt. “She’s been a bit fussy. Unfamiliar surroundings, I think.”

She gently extricated Bella with a smile then made her way outside.

Alex was nowhere to be seen. Yelena sighed.
Relieved? Or disappointed?

Both. She keyed open the security gate and soon the gardens engulfed her.

With a shiver, she quickly made her way down the winding path, lush foliage and the sounds of dusk whispering around her. The afternoon heat had eased off as the ritual preparation for sunset began. Thanks to enthusiastic discussions with Pam, she recognized a flock of rare Princess parrots noisily roosting in River Red Gums, then farther on, more busy bird chatter in the spinifex grass. The trees and plants were abundant, providing coverage for not only the bird population but also various reptiles she’d spotted most mornings soaking up the sun on her patio.

Lost in the sights and sounds, she started when she rounded the curve and Carlos emerged from the opposite direction.

She gave him a smile, too tired to make sure she meant it. “Having a good time?”

She waited while he lazily took a drag of his cigarette before blowing smoke into the air.

Her smile dropped as she pointedly coughed then repositioned Bella on her other shoulder.

“Not as much as you are, apparently.”

Her mouth thinned but she said nothing.

“He denied trying to take Sprint Travel then,” Carlos said flatly.

“I didn’t ask him.”

“Oh, right. Too busy, were you?”

She sniffed, catching the scent of scotch on his breath, but clamped her mouth shut, smiling politely as she made way for a passing couple.

“The man isn’t fit to run a charity raffle,” Carlos said, grinding the cigarette beneath his toe. “And you’re cheapening yourself hanging around him.”

Her breath came in sharp. “What?”

“Just look at his family. His father grew up in Bankstown, for starters,” he scoffed.

“So did Paul Keating, Australia’s twenty-fourth prime minister. What does living in Sydney’s western suburbs prove?”

Carlos sighed. “Breeding, Yelena. William Rush cheated on his wife. Then he dies in mysterious circumstances and Alex gets off scot-free. And from what I’m hearing, Rush Airlines’ business practices weren’t exactly aboveboard.”

Yelena shook her head. “That’s the first I’m hearing of it.”

“Well.” Carlos glanced past her, his smile hinting at condescension. “I have sources. If you stood to inherit a
billion-dollar company and knew it was going down the gurgler, wouldn’t you be a little pissed off?”

“I’m not going to validate that by answering.”

He swung his gaze back to her, eyes blazing. “You’re a Valero. What you do is public business and reflects on everyone, especially Papá. I think he’d have something to say about what is going on here.”

A cold shard iced over her heart. “Carlos…”

“And for heaven’s sakes, Yelena, fix your hair! It looks like you’ve just tumbled from his bed.”

Yelena automatically put her hand to her head as he glanced about again.

Then she stilled. Slowly, she let her hand fall.

Carlos’s narrowed eyes caught that. “I thought at least
you’d
have a little restraint. I knew Gabriela was a bad influence.”

She sucked in a breath. “Do not say
one
word against our sister.” Now she just itched to slap him. But frankly, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose control.

“Well, what would you call it? First, thanks to her we end up in this god-awful, ass-end-of-the-world country! Then she becomes a discount store
model—
” he spat out the word like others would say “prostitute” “—then she calls and you drop everything to bum around Europe for months on end. God knows what you both ended up doing over there.”

“Remember, she died, Carlos,” Yelena choked out.

His eyes barely rested on Bella before he glanced away. “And you end up with a bastard child.”

The air crackled with rising tension and Yelena tried to shove her way through it. But his bitter expression, one that went beyond mere anger and disappointment, forced a terrible thought into her brain.

“And you’ll never forgive me for that, will you?” she said slowly. His impatient gesture told her what he thought of that
ridiculous thought. But gradually, clarity began to dawn. “Here, hold your niece.”

“Hey!” Carlos took a step back, hands up, and in that moment, Yelena saw a brief flash of disgust twist across his face. It shattered something inside her, propelling a bitter acrid burn into her throat.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered fiercely. “You can’t even hold her, can you?”

Carlos plastered on a tight smile, nodding politely as a woman walked past.

“What are you talking about?” he finally hissed.

“You’ve never once picked her up, talked to her, engaged with her. She’s a
baby,
Carlos. And just because I don’t have a husband does not give you the right to—”

“To what?” he spat, the venom pitched low and hard as he grabbed Yelena’s arm. “We are Valeros, descended from Spanish royalty!
Dios,
the irony from you, a public relations expert.” He dropped her arm with a snort of disgust. “Did you think for one second how this looks for our father? Our mother? You’re not only flaunting that child but you’re also sleeping with a convict, a man who killed his father!”

“He did not kill anyone!” Yelena countered, gently patting Bella as she stirred.

“Oh, and you were there, were you?”

“Yes, I was.”

Triumph leaked from her voice: she felt it empower every muscle, every bone as she lifted her chin.

Carlos stepped back, a dark frown contorting his face. “You weren’t.”

“Alex was with me at the time his father died. Let it go, Carlos.”

He looked so stunned that for one second, Yelena almost took pity on him. Yet she knew, really knew, how he felt about her and Bella and she just couldn’t forgive him for that.

Carlos might be family, but so was Bella. She glanced
down at her sleeping baby, cupping her warm head with one trembling hand. Carlos not only treated her presence like dirt under his triple-stitched, imported Spanish shoes but now this…this.. disgusting revelation.

All that history had been stripped away, reduced to nothing but bitter ashes. Carlos had done that.

“I don’t want to argue, Carlos,” she muttered, exhaustion and loss engulfing her.

“Then don’t.” He gave her a tight look. “I’m going back to the bar.”

Yelena watched him stalk off without a word, her heart aching. Carlos was her brother. Her charming, funny, smart brother, her champion, her protector. She’d worshipped him. He was her flesh and blood. He and Gabriela were family, more than her absent parents ever were.

When had it all gone sour?

On quick footsteps she got to her suite, smiled at the waiting Jasmine then keyed them both in. She prepared the formula then went into the bedroom, settling in the comfy rocking chair and positioned Bella in her arms.

As Bella fed, the insistent pounding that had settled in the middle of her forehead slowly began to ease. Yet she refused to think about what had just happened, not until she’d settled the baby. Instead she sighed, releasing the tension from her tight shoulders, let the moment calm her limbs and relax her body as she watched Bella feed.

Too soon, the formula was gone and Bella’s eyes had fluttered closed. After a moment, Yelena rose then gently tucked her into the crib. Staring down at that sweet, innocent face, her heart tightened just a little more.

Carlos’s disapproval had always been there, she acknowledged as her hand rested gently on Bella’s rising chest. After moving to Australia, Gabriela had curbed her rebellion into small localized ones. Hair, makeup, wardrobe and boyfriends were the main points of contention. And when
she’d reached eighteen, her brief fling with modeling had earned her enough money to move out.

Despite the years in between, guilt still burned.

What Gabriela didn’t know was the more waves she caused, the more Yelena deliberately smoothed them. Controlling her environment, bringing order into her disorganized world, like Alex had said.

With one last look at her now-sleeping daughter, she crept from the room.

“Going back to the party?” Jasmine asked, glancing up from the book she’d been reading.

Yelena nodded, unable to force out pleasantries. Swiftly she picked up her purse and quietly left.

She couldn’t let it go like this.

A myriad of conflicting emotions dogged every step as she walked down the shadowed path, twisting and turning inside. It hurt, damn, it hurt. It was her
brother,
the same man who’d said all those awful things, shown her a terrible side she’d never witnessed before.

But if she gave up on Carlos, she’d have no one left.

That appalling thought quickened her pace and soon the path widened out into Merlot’s raised courtyard, the low sun and spreading shadows highlighting her brother drinking deep from a glass, his back to her as he glared at the elaborate water feature in the center of the patio.

Carlos.
Just as she was about to call out, Alex emerged from the bar.

She shrunk back, instead taking the fork in the path that led down a gentle slope until the marble wall grew taller and taller, eventually hiding her from view. The cool stone against her shoulder goose-bumped her flesh and she suppressed a shiver.

“What the hell do you want?” she heard Carlos growl directly above her head.

“You’re drunk, Carlos.”

Carlos snorted. “And you’re a murderous son of a bitch who’s screwing my sister.”

Yelena’s hand went to her mouth, stifling the gasp. She glanced up but unless she took a step back, revealing her hiding place, she could see nothing but the wrought-iron railing topping the marbled wall.

“Wrong on the first one,” Alex murmured, sounding way too calm. “But on the second…” The pause was long and deliberate. “What’s it to you if I was?”

Something smashed close to her feet, the bitter smell of scotch assailing her nostrils a second later. “I’ll kill you.”

“Careful. I might think you actually mean it.”

“I don’t give second warnings, Alex.”

Thick apprehension swirled as Yelena frowned, holding her breath.

“And I’m sure that’s been enough to scare the others into silence,” Alex finally said. “But it won’t work with me. Not now. We both know who’s been feeding those stories about my father to the press. Stories that have no basis in truth, I might add.”

Carlos remained silent.

“You’re itching to say it, aren’t you?” Alex sounded almost amused. “So why don’t I save you the trouble? You overheard a private conversation between me and my father, assumed he was cheating then used it to fuel a publicity headache, one you’re hoping will sway Sprint Travel in your favor.” He paused, then added almost regretfully, “Why do you hate me so much?”

Yelena could feel the heavy tension in the air. It wasn’t hard to imagine Carlos’s flaming glare, radiating pure fury. She’d been the recipient of that look already.

“You were the son of the great and powerful William Rush, adored by millions, the talented heir to a bloody saint.” A loud crack signaled Carlos had slammed his palm on the stone wall.

“Nothing was ever handed to me on a plate.
I
had to work for it.”

“So did I.”

Carlos reeled off a blistering curse in Spanish, making Yelena’s ears burn. “That’s a crock. Nothing ever came hard to you.”

“So that’s what this is about—jealousy?”

“It’s about getting just reward,” Carlos threw back. “I’ve put every penny into Sprint and unlike you, I don’t have an airline company and a billion-dollar resort to fall back on if it goes bust. You gave no thought to the consequences when the cops started questioning you, did you? No consideration for our partnership deal. You could’ve just said, ‘No, I didn’t do it.’ Instead you hid behind a lawyer and clammed up.”

“I didn’t kill him, Carlos.”

“I don’t really care,” Carlos sneered. “Our business plummeted because of you, which breaches our partnership agreement.”

“And that justifies what you’re doing now?”

“I’m doing what I have to to save Sprint and my reputation.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Yelena couldn’t bear it any longer. She eased along the high wall until it began to dip. Just above eye level she snuck a glance over the top.

Both men were squared off, bodies rigid. Yet where the thunderous look on Carlos’s face was painfully familiar, Alex seemed almost…calm. Confident, even.