His Heir, Her Honour / Meddling With A Millionaire: His Heir, Her Honour

Two

Lilah had faced her fair share of shockers in her years as a city prosecutor and then administrator at the Tacoma hospital. Certainly learning Dr. Carlos Medina had been hiding his royal lineage had stunned her silly. But his words now beat all other surprising revelations, hands down.

Gripping the edge of the mahogany desk to steady her shaky world, she searched Carlos’s face for some sign of what possessed the innately honorable man to deny his own child.

Her hand still stung from her impulsive slap when he’d called her a liar. She hated the momentary loss of control then … and during his kiss earlier. No man affected her this way. She’d fought too long and hard not to be won over so easily like her mother. Yet a simple brush of Carlos’s mouth against hers and she’d almost ditched her panties again with this man.

A very virile man who now seemed intent on denying the consequences of their encounter.

“You’re sterile?” she repeated, wondering if perhaps she’d heard wrong. She must have heard wrong because she carried the living proof of his virility inside her. So either he was wrong or he was a coldhearted liar.

“That’s what I said.” He shifted his weight to one foot in a manner that to most would look casual. But after years of knowing him, she recognized the subtle way he favored his aching leg and injured back, something he inevitably did when he was under stress.

Carlos Medina was one of those docs with a godlike status around the E.R., the surgeon most likely to pull off a miracle when a gurney wheeled in the impossible. She’d noticed that most people only saw that glow of success and intelligence around him—when they weren’t noticing his obvious good looks. Not many people saw past that to detect the fallout of the intense pressure he put on himself. The shifting feet. The tendency to plant his spine against any vertical surface.

Except she could not think of that now. She had too much at stake to get sucked in by all the things she found compelling about this man, not the least of which were these small signs that he was human underneath all that cool professional brilliance.

“Why didn’t you say something when we were together that night?” she asked skeptically.

“I didn’t see the information as relevant since procreation wasn’t on our agenda.” His sardonic tone needled at her already tender nerves.

“But you used condoms … even if one failed in the hot tub.”

Just thinking of the combustible connection, their total loss of control threatened her balance even now. They’d started in his office, then raced to his home to spend the rest of the night together, awake and making the most of every moonlit minute.

“Safe sex has to do with more than pregnancy,” he pointed out practically.

Of course she knew that. She’d freaked when the condom broke, only partially calming down once he’d reassured her he was disease free. Yet in the back of her mind she’d heard the haunting sound of her mother’s sobs behind a closed bedroom door. Lilah had been a preteen at the time, but old enough to understand the gist of her parents’ fight.

Her father’s latest reckless affair had passed along a disease to his wife.

The STD had been treatable, thank heavens, but Lilah had been stunned by how quickly her mother forgave her husband for his infidelity. Again. And again.

Rather than forcing back the memories of her mom, Lilah embraced them for motivation to stand firm now. To push for answers. And to hold Carlos accountable. “This is your child. I don’t want money from you and I certainly have no interest in the whole royalty thing. I only want my baby to know his or her father.”

“That isn’t my baby.” His voice echoed with a surety she couldn’t miss.

His denial of his own child infuriated her all over again.

“All because of a riding accident when you were a teenager?” She wasn’t a doctor but something sounded off in his explanation, in spite of his utter confidence. Still, she couldn’t ignore the gravity in his voice, the set serious lines on his aristocratic face.

“The trauma from the accident, coupled with a postsurgical infection, left me sterile. I’m a doctor, in case you’ve forgotten.” He pulled a leather-bound book from the shelves and dropped it on the desk with a resounding thud. “But if you’re still in doubt, there’s a full chapter in here that discusses such complications. I’ll be more than glad to mark the pages for you. The fact remains, though, that your child must have been fathered by someone else.”

A shadow smoked briefly through his eyes, something dark and perhaps angry even, but was gone before she could confirm her impression.

If anyone deserved to be mad here, it was her. She wanted to shout her frustration. She was telling the father, whether he believed her or not. “Carlos, you aren’t listening to me. There is no one else,” she explained slowly, carefully, hoping he would hear the truth in her words even if it revealed her vulnerability in wanting only him. “There hasn’t been anyone other than you in eight months.”

A frown furrowed his forehead, but his silence encouraged her to continue.

“It is absolutely impossible for me to be pregnant with another man’s child. And believe me, I am pregnant.” Her voice shook for the first time. “I’ve seen the ultrasound. Our baby is alive and well.”

The enormity of how much her life had changed so quickly threatened to overwhelm her. She’d always managed to tackle anything life threw her way, whether it be law school at Yale or standing up to a state supreme court judge.

Never had the stakes felt more important than now as she fought for the tiny defenseless life inside her.

Carlos’s eyes relayed sympathy and, even worse, a hint of pity. “You really believe this.”

“And you really don’t.”

Finally, she heard and accepted what he’d been saying since she first told him about the baby. She’d anticipated a number of reactions and prepared her rebuttals as carefully as any legal brief. However, she certainly hadn’t foreseen this turn of events. Obviously his doctors had been wrong in their diagnosis of Carlos, and his refusal to even consider the possibility, his insistance on believing she’d lied, cut her to the core.

Disillusionment seeped through her veins like a chilly IV flooding through her system. Even though she’d assured herself she didn’t need him, she’d hoped for … something … anything more than this.

Their kiss a few minutes earlier meant nothing to him. She meant nothing to him. And she needed to numb herself so he meant nothing to her.

Lilah pulled in a steeling breath, a trick she’d learned early on to keep her cool when her insides threatened to bubble over with too much unruly emotion. “I’ve done my part by informing you. A paternity test after the baby is born will confirm I’m telling you the truth. And you’re going to feel like a royal jerk when you’re faced with the proof.”

Determined to leave with her pride, Lilah held her head high as she fought back the urge to cry over how terribly the confrontation had gone. While she hadn’t expected exuberant cheers by any stretch, she’d hoped for acceptance, followed by stalwart emotional support as they agreed to spell out the practical details of bringing a child into the world. Carlos was a private, reserved man, but he’d always been quietly honorable. Even after his cold shoulder recently, she’d expected better from him than this.

She closed the door with a quiet but firm click, wishing her aching heart was as easy to seal off.

The click of the closing door echoed in his ears, along with the first hints of doubt.

Carlos leaned back against his desk, staring at the space where Lilah had stood seconds before. She’d seemed so certain. In all the years they’d known each other, she’d been an honest woman—a boardroom shark in fighting for the hospital—but always frank and truthful. He admired that about her. For years, in fact, he’d used that admiration of her character to temper his more … primal response to her.

What if …

The possibility of actually being a father rocked his balance far more than the injuries that still caused him to limp to this day. He flattened his clammy palms against the legs of his green hospital scrubs.

While he’d engaged in a number of careful affairs over the years, never had he let a woman truly break through his laser focus on his work. But Lilah was different. He was damn impressed by the way she fought for the hospital, stood up to million-dollar donors and politicians when it came to patients’ rights—hell, the way she faced down even him when he dug in his heels too deeply and lost focus on the bigger picture. She had a sharp mind and she wielded it artfully in her profession.

Would she use those same skills against him even now if she thought it would benefit her child?

His father had taught all three of his sons not to trust anyone, anytime. Everybody had a price, including the cousin who had sold out their escape plan. The queen, his mother, Beatriz Medina had died as a result of the ambush that ensued on their way out of San Rinaldo. Carlos had spent his teenage years undergoing surgeries to recover from the gunshot wounds. That he could walk at all was considered a miracle. Doctors told him to be grateful for that much, even if he would never have biological children.

Could he trust Lilah?

As much as he trusted anyone, which wasn’t much. God forbid the press should get a hold of this tidbit before he settled the issue. He needed to provide Lilah with concrete proof while keeping matters quiet.

First step, arrange to have the lab run a sperm count test. As much as he balked at the invasion of his privacy, the current results would end this once and for all.

The pesky “what if” smoked through his mind again, the possibility that through some inexplicable miracle her kid turned out to be his after all. Then, he needed to keep Lilah close at hand until the baby could be tested.

Because if against all odds she carried a Medina, nothing would stop him from claiming his child.

Suddenly weary to her toes, Lilah sagged against the closed door. The reception area outside Carlos’s office echoed with emptiness, thank goodness. But there was no telling how much longer before his secretary, Wanda, returned to her desk. Her computer already scrolled a screen saver photo of her dozen grinning grandchildren at the Port Defiance Zoo.

Lilah squeezed her eyes closed. The memory of her argument with Carlos rang in her ears. Her belly churned with nausea, unusual for this late in the day. She still battled morning sickness and, no question, upset emotions made it worse. She curved a hand protectively over her stomach, the baby bump barely discernable so early in the pregnancy. Carlos hadn’t even noticed when he’d pulled her camisole from her waistband. But she could feel the changes in her body, the swollen tenderness of her breasts, a heightened sense of smell and an insatiable nightly craving for marinated artichokes, a food she had previously hated. While circumstances were far from perfect, she loved her baby with a fierceness that still overwhelmed her at times.

A lock of hair slithered over her cheek and she realized her French twist must be wrecked from Carlos’s hands as they’d kissed in his office. Her nipples tingled in lingering awareness of just how fast and high he could stoke desire inside her. She plucked pins from her hair and let the rest slide free around her shoulders, not as professional as she preferred at work, but no doubt better than the sexed-up mess she’d been seconds ago.

For her child’s sake, she needed to think rationally rather than with her emotions—or her welling hormones. Carlos obviously believed he was sterile and had only her word that the baby was his. While she wanted to think four years of friendship would have convinced him of her trustworthiness, that clearly wasn’t the case. He was a reserved and private man by nature. His aloofness—hell, his inaccessibility—the past months let her know their friendship wasn’t as deep as she’d believed. That she’d been forced to chase him down in the shower to tell him …

Releasing another trapped breath, she refused to get wound up again. She needed to take a step back from him and wait. Time would prove his paternity.

Content she’d regained even ground, Lilah straightened just as the door to the hall opened. She tucked the handful of bobby pins into her jacket pocket and smoothed a hand over her hair to clear any signs of her clench from Wanda’s perceptive eyes. There was a reason they called Lilah “The Iron Lady” around this place, and she intended to keep her reputation intact.

The door opened wider, revealing … not Wanda. Lilah tensed for a second, concerned about the press infiltrating the multiple layers of security she’d put in place. Then she recognized one of their newer radiologists, Nancy Wolcott. Her lab coat sported multiple decorative buttons on the lapel. Nancy had once relayed she wore the nonregulation “flair” to put her younger patients at ease. She must be working on the surgical case Carlos was so concerned about.

“Hello, Nancy.” Thank heaven her voice stayed steady. “Dr. Medina and I just finished our meeting. I’m sure he will be anxious to hear an update on his young Afghani patient from this afternoon’s surgery.”

“Oh, I’m not on that case.” Smiling hesitantly, the willowy brunette straightened a light-up shamrock pin. “Actually, I’m here on a personal note.”

Unease feathered over her. “A personal note?”

“I’m here to meet him for dinner. It’s after hours, so no worries about an administrative sanction. I’m not on the hospital’s clock right now.” She shrugged out of her lab coat and draped it over her arm.

Oh, God, Lilah really didn’t like where this conversation was headed, and the timing couldn’t have been worse. She should have seen this coming. Carlos had never been lacking for dates before his Medina identity became public. He was a hunky, wealthy doctor, after all. Albeit a workaholic, temperamental doc. Women were swarming him now that he’d tacked prince onto his list of attributes.

She scrambled for something to say and a way to get out. Fast. “No one can fault your dedication. I know well how many days you’ve worked longer shifts when we needed you. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

The younger woman stopped her with a light touch to the arm. “I should explain. Carlos—Dr. Medina—and I have been going out for the past few weeks. We’ve been careful to keep it under wraps.” She adjusted one of the dozen frames on Wanda’s desk. “He really hates how intrusive the media can be, so we’re waiting for the perfect time for a controlled press release.”

No worries about steeling a breath. Nancy Wolcott had knocked Lilah into next year without even trying. Carlos, of course, hadn’t said a word about it.

And they’d been dating for weeks, not days, not a onetime outing over coffee. But a relationship that needed a freaking press release.

Lilah bit back bile. “I hadn’t heard.”

“I wanted to keep it quiet, too. I know he has a reputation for keeping relationships light but I think this might be headed somewhere.” Nancy laughed nervously, seemingly oblivious to the fact she was gushing. “Perhaps he kept his distance before, back when he had to maintain his royal background. But now that everything’s out in the open about his Medina name, he’s free to pursue anyone he wants.”

Hearing the infatuation in Nancy’s voice, Lilah wanted to hate her, to dismiss her like the royalty groupies who’d come out of the woodwork lately. She longed to find fault in someone who’d captured Carlos’s interest when a night of sex with her hadn’t moved him in even a passing way.

And yet she couldn’t be catty. Nancy didn’t know about that night with Carlos. No one did.

Furthermore, of every unattached female on staff, this one seemed least likely to be a gold digger or fame seeker. As a part of her job, Lilah knew the history of each employee. Nancy Wolcott was a nice person who very obviously had stars in her eyes over the new man in her life. Who could blame her?

Perhaps a woman who already had Carlos’s child swimming around in utero.

A cold ache gelling inside her, Lilah tuned in to the rest of Nancy’s lovelorn ramblings.

“I know I’m probably jumping the gun here, but he’s such a gorgeous, moody man. A woman can’t help but want to touch those inner depths.” Nancy pressed a hand to her heart, her eyes fluttering closed as she inhaled.

Lilah wanted to give the woman a good swift kick in her unrealistic expectations about Carlos Medina. Even when he’d dated in the past, she’d seen how emotionally detached the man could be, something that hadn’t changed one bit since the whole “son of a deposed monarch” revelation.

Not that she was surprised. There was no such thing as a fairy-tale ending. Libraries labeled it fiction for a reason. She’d seen firsthand with her parents how quickly love soured, how easy it was for a woman to turn into a pathetic moony-eyed doormat.

Her father had used his job as a Hollywood agent to seduce countless wannabe starlets. To this day his wife—Lilah’s mother—did her level best to ignore the indiscretions that messed with her perception of happily ever after with her hunky, rich dream man. On occasion, the bimbo of the month set her eyes on a ring or got angry when the contracts didn’t flow in and would confront the Mrs., forcing her to face her husband’s infidelities.

A fight would ensue. Tears would flow. He would offer up jewelry or a romantic getaway to “reconnect” and all would be forgiven until the next time when they repeated the same dysfunctional cycle all over again—leaving Lilah with two drawers jam-packed full of tourist T-shirts brought home by her lovey-dovey parents. In fact, her parents were on one of their make-up cruises now, and once they returned she would have to tell them about the baby.

About Carlos?

Listening to Nancy detail her evening with Carlos at the symphony, Lilah had to accept that the woman wasn’t blowing anything out of proportion. He really had asked her out on honest-to-God dates. Not that Lilah had entertained dreams of such with him. But damn it, they had slept together. They had been friends before that. And while he wasn’t the warm fuzzy kind, she deserved better from him than the way he’d treated her since their one-night stand.