Frustrated with her ambivalence and lack of clarity, she pushed a bright smile to her face, hoping it radiated with a confidence she was far from feeling.
‘Well, it was...nice...if somewhat strange, to meet you,’ she said, and she held out her hand. It might have seemed like an odd thing to do, having just slept with him on the floor of his boat, but Libby needed to reassert herself as a confident, sensible woman—the exact opposite of her mother in every way.
‘You too, Libby Langham.’ He took her hand and a shiver ran all the way from her fingertips to her heart, making her tremble. She quickly pulled her hand away and spun before he could see it. She needed to get out of there.
‘You can’t be serious?’ The police detective regarded Raul as though he’d sprouted three heads.
‘Why not?’ Raul didn’t move, not even a little. He held his expression, his stance and, most of all, his mettle.
‘Well, it’s just...unusual, that’s all. I mean, they tried to steal a multi-million-dollar boat from you,’ the detective pointed out, drawing a hand through his hair before gesturing towards Raul’s face. ‘Clocked you on the cheek. And you’re offering to pay their school fees?’
‘I’m offering whatever assistance they need,’ he confirmed with a nod. ‘I would like you to arrange a meeting with their parents for this afternoon.’ He flicked a glance at his watch. He’d be flying out later tonight, so there was limited time in which to wrap this up. But having grown up poor and on the streets, Raul had also done things in his youth of which he was ashamed. He knew how easy it was to take a wrong turn in life, to make a mistake, particularly when no one believed you were capable of more. It was because of one couple’s act of faith in him that Raul’s life had forked in a better direction, and it was for them that he now tried to offer hope when he could to other children in similar situations to what his own had once been.
‘These boys have been in and out of trouble most of their lives,’ the detective repeated incredulously.
‘All the more reason to try something new. Arrange the meeting—if they want help, I’m going to give it.’
He left the police station, satisfied with the steps he was planning to take for the youths, knowing it was the right thing to do. And yet there was a sense of impatience in his belly too, a feeling of wanting more.
Of wanting Libby.
His mind flashed back to the boat, to their time together, and he closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of desire washed over him, remembered pleasure holding him completely in its thrall, and then he was moving, determinedly pushing the whole experience from his mind and focusing on his next destination, his next conquest, his next challenge. Raul didn’t look back, he didn’t do repeat experiences and, most importantly, he didn’t stick around anywhere—or anyone—long enough to get attached.
CHAPTER THREE
Three months later
IT WAS A miracle she’d even kept the business card, because Lord knew she’d had no intention of calling Raul for help. Perhaps it had been a sort of talisman, proof that she hadn’t imagined the whole thing. Yet she hadn’t looked at it again. She’d placed the card into her wallet and then ignored it.
Every time she’d gone to pay for something, her fingers might have glanced over the edges of the thing, but she’d never once weakened and removed it, looked at it and invoked an image of Raul Ortega. Then again, she hardly needed a business card for that.
He was burned into her brain in a way she found quite frustrating, given the brevity of their acquaintance. She only had to close her eyes to see his, to remember the way he’d felt, smelled, tasted...
And now, she thought, with a whole heap of butterflies terrorising her belly, what was she to do?
She glanced down at her lap, to the white stick with two bright pink lines, and felt a desperate sense of panicked disbelief rising inside of her.
Pregnant!
How could it be?
They’d used protection!
It had only happened once!
They barely even knew each other!
It was... She shook her head. Inevitable?
Even as she thought it, she knew it was stupid, and wrong. Nothing about this should have been inevitable. It shouldn’t have happened.
She groaned, pressing her head back against the threadbare sofa cushions, tears filling her eyes even as a protective hand shifted to cover her still-flat stomach.
It was history repeating herself, she thought with a groan. Libby had been an accident too. She’d been raised by a single mother, had never known nor met her father. She’d never even been sure her mother knew who he was. If she had, the older woman had scrupulously avoided revealing that to Libby.
She patted her stomach, the connection she felt to the burgeoning life unmistakable and immediate. It was something she’d never really felt before.
She’d loved her mother, almost out of a sense of obligation. Children loved their parents—that’s just how it was. Only they’d never been close, and now that Libby looked back she recognised that she’d been the responsible person of the household for almost as long as she could remember. Grocery shopping and meal preparations had mostly fallen to her, so too the cleaning. Between school and those domestic duties, Libby had been too tired for a normal teenage experience, and as for thoughts of university...? No way. It wouldn’t have been possible.