Illegitimate Tycoon by Janette Kenny Page B

time to a career instead of your family.”
                 Her
chin came up. “There is pride, Rafael. You don’t want me to work because your
mother slaved to provide for you.”
                 “That
is some of the reason,” he said with a nod.
                 “Well,
I refuse to be like my mother, who never worked a day in her life even when we
were close to starving,” she said. “She was content to let her husband hold two
jobs, and to see her only son follow him to the factory even before he was old
enough to do so.”
                 He
yanked her flush against him, feeling the thunder of her heart against his
chest. Feeling anger course through her at breakneck speed.
                 “You
aren’t like her at all,” he said. “You could never be like her even if you were a full-time mother.”
                 She
was shaking her head before he finished. “I will work, Rafael. Maybe not
full-time. Maybe only on occasion. But I refuse to give up who I am, what I
have worked for.”
                 “I
wish you could see yourself as I do, Leila.
                 Then
perhaps you wouldn’t feel so compelled to prove your worth.”
                 Her
chin came up. “Do you really see me, Rafael? Do you truly understand my
passions? What drives me? My career funds my clinic and that is very important
to me. I won’t give it up.”
                 He
cut the air with a hand. “You don’t have to. I have told you before that I can
fund that or any other cause of yours for as long as you wish.”
                 “Yes,
but it would be just another appendage of you, instead of mine,” she said, fist
pressed to her heart.
                 Frustrated
and weary, he threaded his fingers through his hair and paced to the window. On
the beach below people laughed and frolicked in the late-afternoon sun. Many
couples strolled the edge of the sand hand in hand, just like he and Leila had
done earlier today before they had sliced open old wounds and let them bleed
freely.
                 “It’s
getting late,” she said. “I have to get ready.” And then she walked slowly into
the bedroom.
                 The
soft click of the door echoed in the stillness and reverberated along his
nerves. In an hour they’d present themselves to the throng. They’d smile and
pretend everything was perfect when it was far from it. That they weren’t at
loggerheads over their future.
                 With
a curse he slammed a fist against the panel, frustrated, angry that she’d let
fear come between them. That she’d kept so much from him.
                 From
this moment on, he would do all in his power to convince her that their
marriage was more important than anything. He would somehow vanquish her fears.
                 Leila
stayed in the shower until her skin threatened to pucker, letting the
temperature go from a soothing warm to a bracing chill in hope that the cold
would ease the puffiness her crying had surely created.
                 Her
thoughts were a jumble of wanting him. Loving him. Yet his demands veered into
unreasonable. What happened to the carefree man she’d picnicked with today? The
question eluded her as she stepped from the shower.
                 She
hadn’t expected Rafael would be there waiting to take her place, waiting to
hand her a thirsty towel. Waiting there gloriously naked and aroused with a
look of intense need carved on his handsome face.
                 Her
breath seized as his hungry gaze swept over her, his expression so hot that she
felt the water droplets sizzle on her wet skin. But his eyes soon narrowed,
staring deeply into hers as if suspecting she still held a secret from him.
                 His
distrust sent a glacial shaft spearing through her, freezing any desire that
had quickly kindled