The words punched him in the gut. Her voice came out husky as her shoulders relaxed and she tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.
“You’re welcome,” he responded dryly in an attempt to mask the effect she had on him. He glanced down at his watch. “I believe we ate through nearly three minutes with that little drama, so let’s cut to the chase—I have two proposals for you.”
Her guard immediately came back up. “Oh?”
Two proposals he’d stayed up until well past midnight contemplating. “Yes. My first—I will be involved in our child’s life.”
“Define involved.”
“I want to visit. Regularly. As in,” he continued as she opened her mouth, no doubt to ask for a definition, “a minimum of one week a month. Most likely two.”
A frown crossed her face. Irritation tightened his muscles as his lust ebbed. Did she truly think so little of him that she could barely stand the thought of him being around their child?
“I can’t just fly to France or Spain or wherever it is you jet off to for your parties.”
“First, I have my own jet. I’ll fly to you. I won’t be exposing a child to parties, either.”
He’d hoped she would refute his last statement, that she didn’t think him that stupid. Her silence gave him his answer. He should be used to rejection and low expectations by now. Why did hers feel like someone had just carved his heart from his chest?
“Second,” he continued, “an investigator friend of mine informed me you don’t have a job.”
Two bright red spots appeared in her cheeks. “You had no right to pry into my private life.”
“I had every right.” He kept his tone friendly but his voice firm. “You know so much about me. Fair is fair. Which brings me to my second proposal.”
The V between her eyebrows deepened. “You’re not giving me money.”
“I am giving you money, but for the child.”
“No.”
“There’s no room for disagreement on the money. I have more than I know what to do with. I’m not going to let our child grow up without the things they deserve—a good education, a nice home, security.”
“I can provide all that.”
“Without a job?” He knew the remark was harsh, but she had to understand, had to see the reality of her situation.
Her shoulders dropped. Just a fraction, but enough that guilt fizzled on the edge of his conscience. She turned to look out over Paris, her face averted.
“Your second proposal?”
Her voice was so quiet he instantly regretted his severe remark. Calandra was a fighter. She stood up to anyone and everyone, including him. To see her withdraw into herself was disheartening.
Before he could reply, a swarm of tourists disembarked from an elevator. A cacophony of languages swirled around them. Mothers grabbed onto errant children as excited couples, faces bright with awe and romance, grasped hands and rushed to the railing. One overly eager young man knocked into Calandra, and she stumbled. Alejandro moved fast, catching her in his arms and pulling her tight against his chest.
“Sorry, mate, I...” The young man’s voice trailed off as he took in the cold fury in Alejandro’s eyes. “S-sorry.” He swallowed hard, grabbed his wide-eyed girlfriend and steered her away.
Slowly, the thundering of his heart abated. There were protections all over the Tower to keep the millions of tourists who visited it every year safe. But for one horrific moment Alejandro had seen Calandra pitch to the side, had envisioned her toppling over the railing to the pavement below.
His arms tightened around her.
“I can’t breathe, Alejandro.”
He almost missed it, the faint breathiness beneath the frigid tone. But when he looked down and saw her eyes burning like molten silver, assessed the color blooming in her normally pale cheeks, he knew that she felt it, too. Not just the desire but the magnetic pull that had drawn them together night after night for the past three years.
A satisfied smile spread across his face. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to convince her.
“Breathing is overrated.”