Secrets Made in Paradise Read online

  His smile faded as his whole expression tightened. ‘What’s the real reason you won’t come with me now, Emerald?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Trepidation slithered over her skin. ‘I have work. I’m the only one here, as you can see.’

  She felt physically ill at telling half-truths—but what he could do, what he could take...

  And then she heard the gurgling chuckle of her beloved little boy. At the next strike of her next hammering heartbeat, Connie appeared in the doorway with Luke in her arms. Emerald’s world teetered, about to smash to smithereens and it was entirely her own fault. There was no way to get Connie to turn around, to run and hide Luke. Her only option was to try to fake it through the next few minutes and tell Javier the truth, alone, later, once she’d had a chance to draw breath. She should have come up with a plan months ago. But she’d been too busy caring for Luke. Too busy surviving.

  Swallowing the nausea with a fake smile, she tried to act as if nothing horrific was currently happening. ‘Thanks, Connie,’ she whispered. ‘Can you just go upstairs for a moment? I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  Connie had stilled. Luke too was abnormally quiet, as if he’d sensed something strange in the atmosphere. The elderly woman glanced curiously at Javier. It was obvious her brain was doing the maths and in this case getting it right. But fortunately she said nothing as she walked past the counter, taking Luke with her.

  ‘Who was that?’ Javier asked, the second the elderly woman disappeared up the stairs.

  ‘My boss, Connie.’ Emmy could hardly bear to face him, but she forced herself to meet his gaze and her breathing stalled.

  Javier was still scrutinising her, his expression sombre. ‘I meant the baby,’ he explained softly.

  Emmy’s mind blanked and she stared at him.

  ‘What’s his name?’ His question was too quiet.

  She couldn’t think what to answer.

  ‘What is his name, Emmy?’ The edge in that repeated question sliced through to her bones.

  She gazed up into those achingly familiar brown eyes. She absolutely adored the owner of the smaller set, but these ones held a glint that she couldn’t define. A premonition shook her resolve. He’d be steely and unforgiving, but she couldn’t lie now. Not to his face. Not the way he had to her.

  ‘His name is Luke.’

  ‘What’s his full name?’ Javier pressed with unerring precision.

  Sweat slicked her skin.

  ‘Didn’t you give him a middle name?’

  That was when she realised Javier already knew. He already knew Luke was his. Terror transfixed her. How long had he known and what had he planned? Because he clearly had something in mind. Him walking into her shop was no moment of chance. She had no idea what to do or say in response—all she knew was that she couldn’t trust his handsome visage.

  ‘Lucero Ramon Jones. Isn’t that right?’ Javier confirmed her fears with dangerously gentle accuracy.

  ‘You’ve seen his birth certificate?’ Her voice barely sounded.

  ‘You left the father’s name blank.’

  How had he seen that certificate? How long had he been here?

  ‘Emerald?’ he prompted.

  ‘For good reason,’ she tossed back on a rush of adrenalin and anger. ‘I’m not sure who the father is.’

  ‘Are you not?’ He cocked his head. ‘Emmy, we both know the dates fit. I was your first lover and you’ve even named him after me.’

  Heat surged. ‘I named him after the man who lied to me. Who didn’t even tell me his real name. “Ramon” was nothing but a lie—a fake persona from some entitled sociopath. You’re not him.’

  He was nothing like the man he’d passed himself off as—funny and charming, carefree yet caring. Javier Torres was none of those things.

  For a long moment he was utterly silent, but emotion enlarged his pupils so much that the black-coffee core almost obliterated the cocoa-coloured iris completely.

  ‘What’s my name, Emmy?’ he finally asked in a bloodless, shocked-sounding whisper.

  Too late she realised she’d given herself away. Now he knew that she knew he’d lied to her. She straightened, determined to hide her fear because surely, in the shades of grey in this mess, he was the worst liar between them? And even if he wasn’t, she had to be completely honest now. ‘Javier Torres.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘Javier Ramon Torres.’

  She closed her eyes. That name had been the only tribute she’d been able to offer her son at the time of his birth. She’d felt so betrayed when she’d learned ‘Ramon’ was really Javier and humiliated that she’d given it to Luke. But now it was relevant again? It was their common middle name and, while that should be a soothing symmetry, stupidly it hurt her more.

  ‘How long have you known?’ His question now had an edge and she couldn’t blame him.

  ‘Not long.’ She lifted her chin bravely. ‘Since the media release about the Flores property.’

  The property she’d shown him—her most favourite place in the world. Her sanctuary. She’d been naive to share something so special with a stranger. Those moments of lust and excitement had made her brainless. Because he’d bought it and was now transforming it from budget retreat to swanky hotel. He was a brutal, ruthlessly acquisitive businessman. Nothing like the carefree sea god who’d held her spellbound that evening on her precious beach.

  ‘That was months ago.’ His mouth compressed. ‘Yet you’ve not got in touch since.’

  ‘You lied to me,’ she muttered.

  ‘It seems we’re both liars.’

  She pushed down her rising panic.

  ‘How could you just try to tell me you didn’t know who his father is?’ he asked.

  ‘I didn’t—not for months anyway and even then I found out little more than your real name.’

  ‘You should have contacted me the second you found that out.’

  He was right and yet wrong, because she’d learned more than his real name, she’d discovered his lack of integrity too.

  ‘I don’t know you at all, nothing other than that you lied to me that night,’ she defended herself desperately. ‘I couldn’t even be completely sure that the jerk written about in the paper was actually the guy from that night.’

  Except that was weak of her. She’d glanced at that picture in the paper and known instantly.

  ‘The second I walked in the door just now, you were sure,’ he said. ‘But you hustled that child upstairs.’

  ‘Maybe that’s because I’m terrified.’ She glared at him, taking a step to widen her stance, wishing she could make a better barrier between him and that stairway.

  ‘Because I present danger to you? To him?’ He recoiled. ‘Based on what evidence? Was I violent?’

  Her throat tightened but she forced the truth to whisper out. ‘No.’

  ‘Then what have I done to hurt you? If I remember correctly, you were the one who walked out without so much as a goodbye.’

  The flash of reproach in his eyes deepened her guilt.

  ‘Why did you leave so early?’ he added. ‘Why not wake me to say goodbye? Were you that full of regret?’

  ‘No,’ she muttered, hoarse with burning embarrassment.

  ‘You could have left a note.’

  ‘What was the point? I thought you were a tourist and that we’d never see each other again.’ She gazed at him with a hot mix of anger and guilt and sadness. It had been a fantasy experience, she’d not wanted to shatter its perfect illusion with morning-after awkwardness. ‘It wasn’t like you were planning a second date either. You were passing through.’

  ‘So were you. Or so you led me to believe. You lied as much as I did that night.’

  She shook her head. ‘I never lied.’

  He tensed. ‘By omission, you definitely did.’
r />   ‘What about everything you forgot to mention? Like, your real name. Your true intentions for being there. You never said you were looking for something to tear apart.’

  ‘I’m not the one tearing apart valuable things. You’re the one who’s done that—keeping a child from his father.’ His voice rose. ‘There’s no reason you can give that excuses your failure to tell me once you knew who I was.’

  ‘You didn’t want me to know who you really were. I only discovered that by accident months afterwards. But you were so comfortable to lie, which told me all I needed to know about your integrity.’ She snapped at him. She didn’t really mean it but emotion had overruled her tongue. ‘I never would have said yes if I’d known who you were.’

  ‘You would have said it faster,’ he shot back.

  ‘Oh, wow.’ She drew in a shocked breath at his sheer arrogance. ‘You think you’re that amazing?’

  He might be six feet three of muscled manly beauty, he might have a brilliant brain and he might have billions in the bank, but he had no integrity. And therefore, no true value.

  ‘The resources I have are amazing.’

  ‘You think I care about money?’ she scoffed. She worked as a volunteer, the last thing she was interested in was accumulating material wealth. ‘If I was a gold-digger, wouldn’t I have beaten down your door the second I discovered who you really were?’ She flushed angrily. ‘I thought you were some chilled-out surfer. I had no reason to suspect you were a billionaire bulldozer who buys whatever he wants and then destroys it.’

  ‘Destroys it?’ His eyes widened. ‘Are we talking about that dilapidated old hostel?’

  ‘It wasn’t dilapidated.’

  ‘You showed me a prime piece of land that was in dire need of investment.’

  She rejected that notion. Lucero’s property had been perfect. Furthermore the old man had been unwaveringly kind to her. But now Javier was ripping apart his legacy. ‘And didn’t you take that information and use it well?’ she raged. ‘Well, you’re not buying me and you’re not buying my son.’

  ‘He’s my son too.’ His eyes glittered, revealing his own loss of temper. ‘It’s eighteen months since that night, Emmy. And I’ve only just discovered he even exists. Now he’s nine months old,’ he said. ‘I’ve missed out on almost the full first year of his life. That’s unforgivable and you can’t keep him from me. You owe me time.’ He inhaled sharply and whirled away, clearly struggling to regain his self-control.

  Emmy was struck still as her worst fears were realised. Javier was going to fight. He was used to getting his way. Was he going to do whatever it took to get it now? He had everything on his side—resources, power, privilege. She had only intuition and resolve and the fiercest love imaginable.

  ‘Understand this,’ she breathed. ‘There’s nothing I won’t do to protect my son.’ She would be there at every step. She would never let Javier or anyone else sideline her.

  ‘Nothing? Good to know.’ He turned back to face her. His lips curved in a smile full of bring it on challenge that fired up that dangerous part of Emerald. ‘I consider myself warned. But somehow, I feel confident I can handle whatever you try to throw at me.’ He stepped closer. ‘You know I can handle you, Emerald.’

  His words sent sparks cascading through her—anger, defiance, attraction. Unwanted, inappropriate, unstoppable attraction.

  And she was furious about it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘SO, WHAT DO you want to do?’

  Javier stared as Emerald Jones squared up to him.

  Do? That was the terrible thing. Because the one thing that he wanted to do right now was the one thing he really, really shouldn’t. This raw kick of lust was appalling. He decided it was anger, really, fuelling the hit of ill-timed appetite—his rage tempting him with one way in which he could assert control. Well, he wasn’t going to let emotion get the better of him. Not ever. He very deliberately took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets.

  He’d come here today ready to apologise, ready to take on responsibility for his son, ready to support Emerald once they’d worked out how... But to discover she knew who he was already? And that she’d found him so lacking that she’d just ‘not bothered’ to let him know?

  His gut clenched as he strove to think clearly and decide how best to answer her.

  Frankly the last twenty-four hours were a blur. He’d engaged a private investigator to work urgently through the night the second he’d been driven away from the store yesterday. Javier had tossed and turned, recalculating, remembering, reliving. The confirmation had come mid-morning. Emerald Jones had delivered her son nine months ago and given him the name Lucero Ramon, Luke for short. Certainty had seared like a white-hot sword cauterising a stomach wound, leaving Javier so breathless he’d almost lost the power to think. He’d had to hurry paperwork to ensure visa requirements were met to get them both on board because he’d wanted to make sure they could have some time to talk—uninterrupted and safe. Although, truthfully, he had no idea where to start the conversation that was more than nine months overdue.

  Now he steeled himself against her bone-weakening beauty. The linen shirt dress she wore today closely cupped her curves while the faded blue still brought out the blue of her emotion-laden eyes. But the accusation in them was laughably unjust when it turned out she was the one who’d hidden something far more serious. Her glorious hair hung in fiery, loose spirals halfway down her back and that reckless part of him wanted to tangle his fingers into them and pull her close. Instead he finally answered her question. ‘Can you close the shop and get rid of that woman so we can talk...?’

  ‘That’s Connie,’ Emerald interrupted shortly. ‘She’s amazing.’

  ‘I’m sure, but we need some time alone.’

  And he didn’t really want to hear about the amazing Connie. Not when she was doing all the things he’d not even been given the chance to attempt—such as spending the afternoon with his son.

  He had no real relationship with his own parents and frankly had no idea how to set about building one with a baby. He pushed back the slithering thought that it was too late already, that any relationship he might’ve fostered with Luke could never be recovered, that, once again, he’d missed out on something fundamental. He didn’t have time to squander on that insecurity right now. And at the very least, he could give his son all outward signs of support.

  But he couldn’t stop himself from questioning her sharply. ‘Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you hoping to get rid of me quickly and keep your secret? Were you going to deny me and him for ever?’

  It wasn’t the first time Javier had been betrayed, but it was absolutely the worst. An innocent child denied his birthright? How could she claim to love her son yet choose to deny him such a primary relationship? Would she deny him everything Javier could offer—his finance alone was outstanding and his son should never have to live in anything less than luxury. His tension coiled tighter with every second that she didn’t reply.

  ‘I don’t know what I was going to do.’

  ‘Well, we need to figure out things as quickly as possible,’ he said, shoving the anger down inside so he could calmly take control of this mess. ‘I’d like you to come with me—’

  ‘I can’t just walk out—’

  ‘Sure you can,’ he muttered in annoyance. ‘You’ve done it before.’

  She paled but argued anyway. ‘I owe Connie. I need to give her proper notice.’

  And she didn’t owe him? Javier huffed out a tight breath. ‘If she’s that amazing, she’ll understand how important this is.’

  Emerald couldn’t stall and deny him more time when he’d missed this much already.

  ‘We need to go.’ He rocked on his feet, resisting the urge to pace.

  He could feel her aggression building, but she turned away. Stiffly she locked the store door and then led
him up the narrow stairs to the tiny room above. A swift glance around the bedsit made him grit his teeth.

  ‘Thanks, Connie,’ Emerald said, her awkwardness evident in the colour storming her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, I had to close the shop.’

  Javier didn’t listen to the rest—their voices faded as he gazed in fascination, and frankly in trepidation, at the tiny boy playing on a mat on the floor. He was cherubic—there was no other word for it. A dumpling of a child with dark eyes, dark curls and a beatific smile. Javier felt something in his chest slip, but at the same time his gut tightened. He’d never felt as afraid for anything or anyone in his life. Nor had he felt as uncertain of what to actually do.

  Moments later the older woman left. Javier didn’t glance or give a damn about her obvious curiosity. He couldn’t peel his attention from his son. He had little experience with children. He’d had no intention of having any of his own, but Luke was here and, now that he was, Javier couldn’t have him denied his heritage or the opportunities he could offer. Which were a damn sight more than this sparse existence. He had to draw in another cooling breath to stop his temper from flaring again.

  The child smiled at Emmy as she crouched and put a soft toy in front of him. Javier’s gut twisted again as he watched her with Luke. Given the boy’s gurgling gleeful reaction to her, it was obvious she’d cared for him but while he appreciated that, he was also...jealous? And there was something else—something worse—bubbling beneath his skin. Another scalding emotion that he didn’t want to recognise, let alone release.

  ‘Please start packing, Emerald,’ he said bluntly.

  She glanced up at him. He saw the nervous lick of her lips. But it was the widening of the child’s eyes that had him instantly regretting how harsh he’d sounded.

  ‘It’s not like I can steal him away without you knowing,’ he added in a whisper. ‘This room is ridiculously small.’

  In an almost blinding wave of emotion, he realised he wanted his son to have everything. Not just material things, but emotional things—things Javier hadn’t had. Security and consistency of care—for one. The trouble was, he didn’t know how to begin with that. All he knew was that he needed to get them out of there.