His Unknown Heir by Chantelle Shaw Page B

shaky breath. ‘Ramon is Matty’s father. I…I need to talk to him, and you need to go. I think your taxi is here now. Please don’t worry,’ she begged her mother, who looked as though she was going to argue. ‘Everything is going to be fine.’
    If only she could believe that, she thought a few minutes later, as she gave Frances a wave and shut the front door. Her headache had developed into an excruciating pain, as if someone was drilling through her skull. She longed to take some painkillers and lie down on her bed for a few minutes, but instead she took a deep breath and walked back into the sitting room.
    Ramon was standing by the mantelpiece, studying a photo of Mateo taken when he had been a few days old. He speared her with a savage glare. ‘I don’t even know his name,’ he said, in a low tone that could not disguise his tightly leashed anger.
    ‘It’s Mateo.’
    ‘Mateo.’ Ramon spoke his son’s name with a sense of wonder. His son— his son . He still couldn’t take it in. Until now he had viewed fatherhood simply as a duty he would have to fulfil at some point in the future. He had never actually envisaged what it would be like to have a child. But now he was faced with his son, whose features so resembled his own that it was like looking at a miniature version of himself, and he felt awed that this perfect, beautiful child was his.
    Matty was sitting on Lauren’s hip, his head resting on her shoulder, but he looked up enquiringly at the sound of his name and gave Ramon a gummy smile. The baby was usually wary of strangers, especially when he was tired, but to Lauren’s shock he held his arms out to his father. Ramon moved closer, his hands visibly shaking as he touched his son for the first time, and Lauren felt a sudden, irrational feeling of panic. She did not want to let Matty go, but the baby smiled happily as Ramon lifted him and held him against his chest.
    ‘Mateo.’ Ramon stroked his son’s silky black hair, and as he stared down into the baby’s sherry-brown eyes that were the exact same shade as his own the tidal wave of emotion that swept through him threatened to unman him. He had missed most of the first year of his son’s life. Lauren had stolen those irreplaceable months from him, and the knowledge filled him with black fury.
    Lauren swallowed the tears that clogged her throat. Matty looked so small in Ramon’s arms, and the look of tenderness in Ramon’s eyes as he studied his son evoked a host of emotions in her. ‘Matty is tired,’ she said quietly. ‘He usually has a nap about now. I’ll put him in his cot.’ She held out her hands to take the baby, but Ramon shook his head.
    ‘I’ll take him. Show me where he sleeps.’
    It would be childish to refuse, and she could hardly snatch Matty out of Ramon’s arms, she acknowledged as she reluctantly led the way down the hall to the tiny box-room that served as a nursery.
    ‘He’s had a traumatic day,’ Lauren explained a few minutes later, after Ramon had carefully laid Mateo in his cot.
    ‘Alistair Gambrill told me this morning that you had rushed home because your son was ill.’
    So that was how he had found out about Matty. And now she could not deny Ramon the answers he clearly wanted. Her head felt as though it was about to split open, but she tried to ignore the pain and led the way back into the sitting room.
    ‘What was wrong with Mateo?’ Ramon demanded. ‘He seems to be perfectly well now.’
    ‘He had a fit this morning. My mother called an ambulance and he was rushed into hospital. Apparently it was what is called a febrile convulsion, brought on by a high temperature. Tests revealed that he has a throat infection, and the doctor prescribed a course of antibiotics. There should be no lasting damage, although babies who have had febrile convulsions are slightly more at risk of having them again,’ she added shakily.
    Tears filled her eyes once again, although she knew it was pathetic to cry when