Illegitimate Tycoon by Janette Kenny Page A

silent.
                 It
was just as well. One set of lies revealed in a day was enough for any
marriage.
                 The
past was over. Leila had never dwelled on what would have happened to her and
her mother if a talent scout hadn’t “discovered” the teenaged Leila in Rio. How
ironic that her mother had gone to the mall that day to beg for a handout from
an aunt who had a soft heart and a job.
                 Of
course that truth had never made the headlines. Instead it was reported that
the young beauty had simply been shopping with her mother in the mall.
                 But
that had never mattered to Leila. Modeling had been her chance to have a better
life and she’d taken it.
                 From
that day forward Leila had become the breadwinner—the hungry young model who
was all the rage, the big-eyed waif to millions and the rising starlet on the
fashion scene. Nobody knew the truth about her past life in Rio. Nobody but her
mother.
                 She
pushed aside the old shame and anger and chanced another peek at Rafael. He was
far too pensive for her peace of mind. “You’re angry with me,” she said. “Yes,”
he snapped, and she flinched at the fury in that one word. “Before we married,
we vowed we’d never keep secrets from each other. That we’d never set out to
deceive each other.”
                 She
looked away, blinking back the sudden rush of tears, for there was nothing more
she could say in her defense. She had lied. She had deceived him.
                 “What’s
done is done. We reaffirm our vow to be honest with each other always and move
forward.” Strong masculine fingers cupped her jaw and turned her to face him,
face the determined intensity of his eyes boring into her soul. “I am not
giving up on our goal or us, querida.”
                 She
swallowed hard, helpless to stop the tears from slipping from her eyes. He was
right. Yet she dreaded to be brutally honest with him about their future as
parents. “Maybe you should.”
                 Silence
swirled around them, raising the hairs on her nape, twisting her nerves into
knots that pulsed and burned and jumped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
                 “I
don’t know if I will ever be able to give you the family you want, Rafael! Even
if my body can carry a child, I’m not sure my fears will allow me to do it.”
                 “I
will not let what happened to your friend happen to you!”
                 “I
know you believe that—”
                 “Because
it is true,” he said with so much conviction she almost believed him. Almost. “Our
love is strong, Leila. We’re strong.
I will see you have the best doctors. The best care. That you are spoiled and
pampered and assured daily how beautiful you are.”
                 Leila
released a watery laugh that eased some of the tension gripping him. “I doubt
that my agent, clients and photography crew will appreciate me playing the role
of diva.”
                 “It
doesn’t matter what they think, for once you become pregnant you’ll give up
modeling.”
                 Rafael
felt her slender spine stiffen and knew he’d hit a raw nerve. “Whatever gave
you that idea?”
                 Just
like that, all the tension that had drained from him went taut as bowstrings. “Isn’t
it obvious? You are concerned about having a healthy pregnancy. About a
relapse. Work would be a great risk.”
                 “One
has nothing to do with the other,” she said, trying to pull away, but he held
tight, refusing to let her run away from him or this issue that stood between them,
knowing it would only fester if they left it alone.
                 “Doesn’t
it? We are wealthy beyond measure. There is no need for you to be a working
mother, to devote your