Page 22 of The Secret Sanchez Heir
Leandro won hands down, and it wasn’t just because of the way he looked. He was larger than life in his dynamism, his vitality, his overpowering sexual magnetism. She had sensed that the very second he had approached her in that hotel foyer and she had allowed herself to go with the flow. Only afterwards had she worked out that a man like Leandro could have any woman and that the relationship that had become more and more significant for her had, for him, remained firmly on the same footing on which it had begun.
‘How do you feel about another woman in my life?’ he asked shrewdly, and Abigail snapped out of the wistful reverie that had swept over her. She blinked, focused and thought about what he had said.
Wasn’t it far more likely that he would be snapped up? Women with a child in tow were never seen as sex sirens and, on a practical level, Abigail knew that she would struggle to find the time to go out and paint the town red anyway. She would carry on with her job, because she would want to maintain her independence, and between her job and looking after Sam—even if there was an injection of cash that made things easier—her life would be as hectic as it always was.
But a man with an infant in tow, a sexy, eligible billionaire bachelor with an infant in tow, would be even more of a catch because there was nothing sexier than a guy pushing a pram. Leandro wouldn’t even have to try. He would be targeted and there would be another Rosalind out there who would snap him up sooner rather than later. Chances were that, with a child to consider, he would be far more amenable to the concept of getting married. Subconsciously, he would be seeking out a mate with whom he would be able to share parental duties.
How would she feel about that?
She broke out in tingly perspiration. Of course this was what sharing a child was all about, she told herself stoutly. Blended families. It happened every day of the week!
Unfortunately, thinking about a blended family with Leandro in the starring role, and some gorgeous, upper-class blonde as his co-star, made her feel sick.
She started when he suddenly stood up and looked at his watch. ‘What time do you collect Sam?’
Dazed, Abigail looked at him and blinked like an owl. ‘Not for another couple of hours,’ she admitted.
‘You put him in childcare every day, nine to six?’
She bristled and followed him to the kitchen, where he began rummaging in a cupboard, fetching the ingredients for coffee. ‘Vanessa is very generous with my hours,’ she told him. ‘I get in at nine-thirty and work until four and I have Fridays off. I usually catch up with whatever admin is outstanding then. She understands the pressures on working mothers. Not many employers do.’
Abigail’s mind was still furiously playing with the image of a Leandro all settled down with a woman, a woman actually destined to wear the engagement ring he had kept for investment purposes. Wasn’t it fair to say that she would resent some other woman holding Sam? Cooing at him? Pushing him on a swing in the park?
Would she be laughing up at Leandro, holding his hand and planning the perfect little family holiday with Sam...?
‘I don’t approve of my son being stuck in a nursery for hours on end.’ Leandro delivered this on a note of finality. ‘Do you? Honestly?’
Abigail hesitated and then blurted out defensively, ‘What choice did I have? I had to get out there and earn a living to keep the roof over our heads.’
‘And yet you never thought to seek me out and ask for help.’
‘No. Not once,’ she said honestly.
‘You must have been lonely,’ Leandro suddenly commented, surprising himself and her with the incisive remark, and Abigail blushed and hesitated. Without her noticing, he’d brought her coffee, and oddly he’d remembered how she took it—strong with very little milk.
‘I got through it,’ she said, tilting her chin at a bullish angle and leading him to think of her as a kid out there looking after herself, doing whatever it took to put one foot in front of the other. Which made him think of the shoplifting charge against her, and he had a sudden wave of sympathy for her youthful desire to fit in.
‘So you did.’ He looked at her reflectively until she went bright red and began to toy with the handle of the mug. ‘I’m making this sound like a business deal,’ he drawled, and Abigail flicked a glance at his lean, thoughtful, outrageously handsome face.
‘Isn’t it?’ she questioned. ‘You’ve found out that you have a child and...and... I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you at the time. Perhaps I should have but, at the time, keeping it to myself felt like the right thing to do.’ Abigail sighed and absently curled one long, escaped strand of hair round her finger, then undid the little bun and smoothed her hand through its long mass, before propping her chin in the palm of her hand and staring at him. ‘And now you’re approaching the problem—and, yes, that’s what you called it, Leandro—with the most logical solution you can think of that fits in with your desire to be a full-time father, now that you’ve been put in the position of having to do something.’
‘All true.’
‘Most men would understand where I’m coming from. They would see that it’s totally impractical to think about marrying someone you’re not in love with for the sake of a child.’
‘Also true.’
‘But you have to be different, don’t you, Leandro?’ she said with a mixture of helplessness and frustration. She stood up and walked across to the deep, gleaming stainless steel sink, and stared through the window for a few seconds at a view that couldn’t have been more different from the view she had from her kitchen sink, then she turned around, leaned against the counter and stared at him. ‘So tell me how this isn’t a business deal, and tell me how approaching marriage like a business transaction can ever be a good thing.’
‘Well,’ he said pensively, ‘in point of fact, I happen to think that a marriage undertaken as a business proposition stands a far better chance of staying the course. Look at the other options when emotions are involved—either there’s the soul-destroying disillusionment once the gold veneer wears off and the rust starts creeping through or, even worse, there’s the never-ending high passion that leaves no room for anything else and ends up destroying everything around it.’
‘You’re so cynical.’
‘I’m being realistic, Abby.’ Leandro looked at her steadily. ‘Set alongside those, a business transaction becomes a gold-plated, blue-chip option. But...’ He stood up and strolled towards her and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as he drew closer. ‘Like I said, this isn’t just a business transaction, is it?’ He stopped in front of her and leaned forward, caging her in by placing his hands flat on the counter on either side of her.
‘Of course it is,’ she spluttered.
‘Business transactions don’t take into account the sort of chemistry we have,’ Leandro told her flatly. ‘Business transactions are cold, calculated and devoid of the sexual charge that makes it hard for us to keep our hands off one another. In one way, it would make sense for us not to complicate a situation by giving in to what we both want. And of course, if you dig your heels in, then we won’t complicate things. We will accept that other people will enter our lives.’
