A Touch of Temptation

For so long she had poured everything she had into first starting her company and then into making it a financial success. She had never stopped to wonder—never had a moment of doubt when it came to her career.

She opened the calendar on her phone. Her day was full of follow-up meetings with five different investors. By the end of the day she intended to start working on putting the plans she had outlined about the expansion of her company into full gear.

She couldn’t focus on any other outcome—couldn’t waste her mental energies speculating and in turn proving the contentious article right.

Only then would she deal with Diego. There was no way anyone else would have known or leaked the news to the media. She had confided in only one person.

Wasn’t this what Diego had intended all along? She was a fool if she’d thought even for a moment that he wanted anything but her ruin.

* * *

Kim clicked End on her Skype call and leaned back in her chair. Her day had only gotten worse since Liv’s phone call. That had been her fifth and last unsuccessful investor meeting. Not one investor was ready to wire in funds.

Whereas the invoices for the new office space she had leased, for the three new state-of-the-art servers she had ordered, for the premium health insurance she had promised her staff this year mocked her and the vast sum of numbers on the papers in front of her was giving her a headache.

She leaned her head back and rubbed the muscles knotting her neck. Her vision for her company, her team’s livelihood, both were at stake because she had weakened.

Hadn’t she learned more than once how much she could lose if she let herself feel?

The number of things she needed to deal with was piling up. Panic breathed through her, crushing her lungs and making a mockery of the focus that she was so much lauded for. She forced large gulps of air into her lungs.

Breathe in...out...in...out... She repeated it for a few minutes, running her fingers over the award plaques she kept next to her table, searching for something to tune out the panic.

Pull yourself together, Kim. There are people counting on you.

It was the same stern speech she had given herself at thirteen, when she had discovered her mother’s packed bag one night. And the note to her father that had knocked the breath from her.

She had survived that night. She could survive anything.

She had to go on as before—for her company’s sake and for her own sake. If she lost her company she had nothing. She was nothing.

She picked up her cell phone and dialed Alex’s number. He was someone with whom she had always tossed around ideas for her business, someone she absolutely trusted. And someone she had been avoiding for the past month...

But she needed objective, unbiased advice, and Alex was the only one who would give it to her. She would exhaust every possibility if it meant she could go on with the plan for expanding her company.

* * *

Diego cursed, cold fury singing through his blood as he stared at the live webcast on his tablet. Reporters were camped with cameras and news crews in front of Kim’s apartment complex in Manhattan.

He rapped on the partitioning glass and barked her address at his chauffeur.

His gaze turning back to the screen again, he frowned at a sudden roar in the ruckus. And cursed again with no satisfaction as he recognized the tall figure. Her ex had arrived. Diego could almost peek into how the press’s mind would work.

The news about her pregnancy on top of the scandal last month, when her twin had been found with Kim’s ex—the press would come to only one conclusion.

That the unborn child—his child—was Alexander King’s.

This was not what he had intended when he’d had his head of security leak the news of her pregnancy to the media.

He stared at the tall figure of Alexander King as he walked into the complex without faltering, despite the reporters swarming around him. Acrid jealousy burned through him. He slammed his laptop shut, closed his eyes and sought the image of Eduardo’s frail body.

Which was enough to soak up the dark thoughts and send some much-needed reason into his head.

He had done this before—let his obsession consume his sense of right or wrong. He had let it blind him to the fact that Eduardo had needed his help, and instead he’d turned on him.

He couldn’t do that again. This was not about what Kim could drive him to. It was about what was right for their child.

* * *

Kim took a sip of her water as Alex finished a call. She had emailed him her proposal and set up the appointment. Now she wished she had waited for the weekend. Stupid of her not to expect how much the media would make of Alex visiting her alone on a Friday evening at her apartment.

She had never been more ashamed of herself. It had taken everything in her to ask Alex for his help but she had no other options. A flush overtaking her, she plucked up the daily statistics report her website manager had sent her.

Based on the turnover of her company in the last quarter, and on her expansion proposal, investing in her company was a sound opportunity for any shrewd businessman. Except for the scandal she had brought on herself.

Their daily numbers, the number of questions that came into their portal and the website hits, had spiked well above average today.

But she knew, as was pointed out by the breakdown in front of her, that this was because twenty percent of the questions had been about her pregnancy, whether she was married and—worst of them all—whether she was married to the father of her baby.

She needed to make a statement soon.

Tucking his phone into his pocket, Alex turned toward her. “I’m sorry, Kim. You know how much I trust your business savvy. But, as brilliant as your plan and forecast is, I can’t invest in it right now.”

Her stomach turning, Kim nodded. It was exactly as she had expected: the worst.

She blinked back tears as he wrapped an arm around her. “With everything going on out there right now I just... As much as I hate to admit it, my association with your company in the current climate would only damage your credibility.”

Kim nodded, the comfort he offered making her spectacular failure even harder to bear. “I know. And I’m so sorry for putting you and Liv through this—for everything. If I could I would go back to that day and do everything differently.” She smiled and corrected herself. “Well, except for the part where I left you with Liv.”

He laughed, and her mounting panic was blunted by the sheer joy in that sound. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Kim. You should come and stay with—”

“She’s not alone to deal with this. And I would think twice, if I were you, before touching my wife again.”

Kim jerked around so quickly that her neck muscles groaned.

Diego stood leaning against the door of her apartment, a dark, thundering presence, and he looked at them with such obvious loathing that her mouth dried up.

Next to her, Alex stayed as calm as ever as he turned around. Just like her, he knew who was behind the leak to the media. But, gentleman that he was, he hadn’t asked her one personal question.

The very antithesis of the man smoldering with anger at the door.

Mortification heating her cheeks, she met Diego’s gaze. “Don’t do this, Diego. Don’t make me regret ever knowing you.”

He shrugged, the movement stretching the handmade grey silk tight over his muscular frame. “Don’t you already? Aren’t you going to introduce your husband to your ex, querida?”

Alex moved at her side, reaching Diego before she could blink. Her breath hitched in her throat as they both looked at each other.

“Call me anytime, and for any kind of help, Kim,” Alex said.

Without another word he strolled out, closing the door behind him. The silence pulling at her stressed nerves, Kim walked past the sitting area to her kitchen, the open layout giving her an unobstructed view of Diego. She pulled a bottle of orange juice out of the refrigerator and poured it into a glass.

Diego leaned against the pillar that cut off the kitchen from the lounge. She raised the glass to her mouth and took a sip. His continued scrutiny prickled her skin. Every time she laid eyes on him she felt as if she was one step closer to a slippery slope.

“What is this? A lesson in caveman behavior?”

“I don’t understand your relationship with that man.”

She blinked at his soft tone. “Don’t turn this around on me. Were you going to beat your chest and drag me to your side by my hair if he hadn’t left?”

He smiled, his gaze moving to her hair. He flexed his fingers threateningly. “I’ve never done that before...but if anyone can push me to it, it’s you.”

Her mouth open, she just stared at him.

“You like throwing my background in my face, don’t you? I’m not ashamed that my life began on the streets of Rio de Janeiro, that I used my fists for survival.”

She glared at him, insulted by his very suggestion. “It’s got nothing to do with your background and everything to do with how you are acting now.”

“True. This one’s my fault. I should have expected you to go to him for help.”

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

Calling her a few names, maybe challenging her word about the paternity of the baby as the whole world was hotly speculating—sure. But this? No. His continuing trust in her word threw her, kept her off-balance.

Or was that what he truly intended?

The doubts assailing her, the real possibility of her company falling apart, filled her veins with ice. “As you have made it your mission to destroy my life, I went crawling for help to the man whom I deceived dreadfully by sleeping with you. Satisfied?”

* * *

Diego let his gaze travel lazily over Kim. A long-sleeved white cotton top hugged her slim torso and the flat of her stomach, followed by tight blue jeans that encased her long legs. Her short hair was pulled back with a clip, leaving shorter tendrils teasing her cheekbones.

He believed her that the baby was his. She had nothing to gain by lying to him and everything to lose.

Except he didn’t understand how, having been almost literally dragged from the altar by Diego, away from a man who was now apparently happily married to her twin, Kim could still share a relationship with Alexander that wasn’t the least bit awkward.

Was she still pining after him? After all, she had gone to him for help. That in itself was revealing.

“I gave you a week, gatinha. I refuse to be ignored. I refuse to let you put your company before the baby and—”

She put her glass down with a force that splashed the juice onto her fingers. Her posture screamed with barely contained anxiety. “The baby’s not going to be here for nine months. Do you expect me to sit around twiddling my thumbs until then? I’m not going to give up something I have built with sheer hard work just because I’m pregnant.”

There it was again. Her complete refusal to accept that things were going to change.

“I expect you to slow down. I expect you to return my calls. I expect you to stop working sixteen-hour days.” She didn’t look like perfection put together today. She looked tired and stressed out. Guilt softened his words. “You look like you’re ready to fall apart.”

“And whose fault is that? I’ve been trying to minimize the damage you’ve caused with your dirty tricks.”

“You have no idea how dirty I’ll fight for what I want. Propelling you toward him wasn’t what I intended, however. But I had forgotten how stubbornly independent you are.”

“Careful, Diego. You sound almost jealous. And yet I know you don’t give a hoot about me.”

“Remember I’m an uncivilized, dirty thug,” he said, with a slanted look at her. “A street-fighting Brazilian, pequena. Of course I’m jealous.”

Kim wiped her fingers on a hand towel, feeling a flush creep up her neck.

Of course she remembered. She remembered every moment of her short-lived marriage with crystal-clear clarity. She had called him that the week before she had left him, her misery getting the better of her. It wasn’t where he had come from that had bothered her. It was what she represented to him because of it that had shattered her heart.

“Why? Even you can see, after everything you have set in motion, how much Alex loves my sister.”

He circled the pillar and neared her, frowning. “And this doesn’t bother you at all?”

“What?”

“That the man you had been about to marry is now married to your twin.”

“I’m incredibly happy for them. If there’s one good thing that’s come out of this whole debacle it’s Liv and Alex.”

“Only one good thing? Still not sure, then?” he queried silkily, his gaze instantly moving to her stomach.

Her spine kissed the steel refrigerator as he suddenly swallowed her space. “Any child who’s the product of you and me is of course not a good thing.”

“You make it sound like it’s a product we designed together.”

His words were soft, even amused, and yet they lanced through her. “Excuse me if I’m not the perfect vision of maternal instinct you were expecting.”

He stared at her, his gaze searching hers. “Your genes needed a bit of diluting anyway, and you need a bit of softening up. All work and no play makes Kimberly a crabby girl.”

“Yes, well—look where all that playing has landed me.”

She sucked in a deep breath, sheer exhaustion finally catching up with her. Trust Diego to force her to face the one thing she didn’t want to think about.

“We can’t even have a conversation without jumping at each other’s throats, Diego.” Every dark fear she was trying to stay above bled into her words. “How do you think it bodes for the...the child?”

Without looking away from her he pulled her hands from behind her and tugged her gently. Stupefied, she went along, for once lacking the energy to put up a fight. With a hand at her back he guided her to the lounge and pushed her onto the couch.

He settled down on a chair opposite.

She felt the force of his look down to her toes. “You might not want this baby, but you want to do the right thing by it—right?”

She swallowed and nodded, a fist squeezing her chest. It was the only thing she was capable of at this point.

“Good. And, as much as you were hoping that I would walk away, I won’t.” His gaze was reassuring, his tone comforting. “Believe me, gatinha, that’s a whole lot more than most kids ever have.”

Was it?

Maybe if her mother hadn’t left that night...and even when she had maybe if she had at least included Kim...would her life have been different, better, today? No, there was no point in imagining a different past or present. Being weak, trusting her heart, only led to unbearable pain. She had learned that twice already.

“Why are you jealous of Alexander?” The moment the question fell off her lips she regretted it.

His long fingers on his nape, Diego closed his eyes and then opened them slowly. His resentment was clear in the tight line of his mouth. “Alexander King has your confidence. I don’t. And, having crawled out of the gutter, I find my first reaction is to hate any man who has what I want.”

His stark admission pulled the rug out from under her. “You want my confidence?” She sighed. “How about you stop trying to destroy me for a minute and then we can talk?”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his expression amused. “Isn’t it interesting how your company being in crisis means I’m destroying your life, but when I ruined your wedding you didn’t have a word to say? So, did he agree to save your company and thus your life?”

His absolutely accurate assumption that her life revolved around her career and her company was beginning to grate on her nerves. She had always prided herself on her unemotional approach. It had been a factor that had put her in direct competition with ruthless businessmen like him.

“No.”

He plopped his ankle on his right knee. “Is it because you deceived him? Have you noticed how you leave all the men in your life with less than nice impressions?”

“Not everyone in the world is as concerned about payback as you are.”

His gaze glittered for a second, but the next he was a rogue, savoring the mess he was making of her life. “So why did Mr. King refuse to be your savior?”

“Because—thanks to your tricks and my own stupidity—my image is in tatters. My company is based on the idea of a panel of experts giving women advice on any topic from health, career and fashion to politics, finance and sex. The operative word being experts. And, as unfair as it is, a woman who seems to not have her personal life together without blemish is not someone others—even other women—want advice from. It doesn’t matter that nothing has changed in the way I think or in my brain matter since I learned about my pregnancy. It just is.”

“But eventually the news would have come out. I just accelerated it.”

He was right. It was something she would have had to face in a couple of months anyway. The sooner she dealt with all this, found a way to resolve this situation with her company, the better.

She still needed an investor, but she was not as worried about running her company as the whole world was. She could do it with her hand tied behind her back.

It was the pregnancy that was the near-constant worry scouring through her.

She had succeeded in everything she had taken up in her life. Pregnancy had to be the same, right?

If she prepared enough, if she was willing to work hard, she could do a good job at being a mother, too. She refused to think about it any other way—refused to give weight to the worry eating away at her from inside.

“What’s was the point of all this, Diego?” she said, feeling incredibly tired. “Would it make you feel better if I begged you for help? Leeched money off you in the name of child support?”

“Yes.”

She blinked at the vehemence in his answer.

“What I wanted was to scare away all your other investors so that you have no one else to turn to but me.”

“Why?”

“It seems putting your company in crisis is the only way for me to get your attention.”

Her temper flared again. “That’s the second time you have mentioned my success, my company, as though it’s something to be sneered at—when you pursued your own success with ruthless ambition. And wasn’t that why you married me six years ago? Because I was smart, ambitious? Now that I’m pregnant you’re asking me to put all that aside and suddenly morph into your vision of everything maternal? I never thought you would tout double standards.”

Diego ran a hand over his nape. Just the mention of their short-lived marriage was like throwing a punch in his face. She was doing it again—getting under his skin. And it would end in only one way.

“Do you really want to go down the rabbit hole of the past, gatinha?”

He didn’t want to argue with her. He could see very well that something about her pregnancy was stressing her out. So why didn’t she make it easy on herself? If she didn’t know how to, he would do it. He would drag her kicking and screaming back into his life and force her to slow down if that was what he had to do to take care of her.

He stepped over the coffee table and joined her on the couch. She scooted to the other corner. He sighed. It seemed either they argued or they screwed, and neither was what he wanted to do. Even if one option had infinitely more appeal than the other.

“I’m not asking you to give up your work. I’m asking you to acknowledge that pregnancy changes things.”

Her feet tucked under her, her arms wrapped around herself, she scrunched farther into the corner. She looked absolutely defeated. “And what does that entail? Throwing myself a conception party and inviting the whole world?”

“You have no friends, you don’t talk to your sister and you’re a workaholic. You live in a fortress isolated from anyone else. That cannot continue.”

“Keeping myself idle for hours on end with nothing to do is not going to turn me into mother of the year when the baby comes. In fact it would just...”

His patience was thinning, but there was something in her voice—a note of desperation—that snagged his attention. “Just what?”

Her stubborn silence was enough to drive his control to the edge again. Was this what he was signing up for a lifetime of?

“I will invest in your company.”

Her gaze widened. Her head shook from left to right. “I’ll bounce back from this.”

“No, you won’t.” He leaned toward her, and the scent of her caressed him. “Things are different from what they were a week ago.”

“Because you manipulated them to your advantage.”

“I would have been dead in a ditch years ago if I didn’t push things to my advantage.” He smiled, enjoying her stupefied silence. “Now I’ve got you hooked, haven’t I? I can see the gears already spinning in your head.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Aah... Look at us, gatinha. We’re like an old married couple, reading each other’s minds without words. If that’s not a true, abiding love, then I don’t know what is.”

“Stop it, Diego. Why the investment now?”

“Perhaps I don’t want to see your hard work go to waste? Or I’m overcome by a consuming need to help you? I still have a soft spot for my wife?”

Kim shivered as though someone had trickled an ice cube over her spine. His taunts were painful reminders of things she had cherished once and then realized to be false. He was mocking feelings she held close to her heart, emotions she had locked up forever.

“Not funny.” With each cheeky retort her anxiety spiraled higher and higher. There had to be a huge price to pay for this. “What do you want from me?”

“We make our marriage work. For good.”

She jumped from the couch, a chill descending into her veins. He couldn’t be serious. It was a twisted joke. That was all it had to be...

She swallowed at the calm in his gaze. “Now I get it. No one is allowed to say no to you, to walk away from you, without you going all revenge of the ninja on them. I’m not a task you failed at once and are determined to conquer.”

“Let’s be very clear about something, princesa.” The dark humor faded from his gaze, replaced by something hard and flinty. “Putting up with you, tying my life to yours again, is like signing up for a lifetime of torment. But it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for my child. To provide a stable home, to give it everything I didn’t have. Nothing more. I plan to be a hands-on parent and I will accept nothing less from you.”

Bile snuck up Kim’s throat. Everything within her rebelled at the thought of being tied to him. It was no better now than it had been six years ago. Then she had been his prize, his trophy, to parade before his father in his victory over a horrible childhood. Now her significance was the fact that she was going to be the mother of his child.

It shouldn’t hurt. But it did. And the hurt was followed by the same raking guilt that had taken up permanent residence in her gut.

She couldn’t think about what this meant for her. She had to think of the baby. She had to do what was right.

Whether she wanted to be a mother or not, whether or not she felt anything for the life growing inside her, it didn’t matter. Unconditional love. She had never received it, she didn’t know it, but responsibility and being strong for someone else—that she understood.

“Is this another trick so you can taunt me for the rest of my life? I won’t let you use the child as some kind of pawn.”

“Every inch of me wants to walk away from you. Every cell in me regrets sleeping with you. I told myself I would not waste another minute on you. But what we did has had consequences. All this is motivated by the fact that we’re having a child together. A child who will have a proper father—not one who will just drop in for birthdays and pose for pictures—and a proper mother. A family. I will do everything in my power to ensure my child has everything I never had.”