Modern Romance November Books 5-8. Annie West
even told Hallie and Tess that. Just as she’d never told them anything about her baby’s father, not even Rodrigo Cabrera’s name.
It was the only way Lola knew how to deal with that kind of radioactive pain. To pretend it didn’t exist.
“I didn’t care, all right?” she said numbly, staring hard out the window. “I never cared about college.”
“What do you care about, then?”
Lola thought of her family. Everyone she’d lost. Everyone she’d loved but been unable to save.
Setting her jaw, she whispered, “Protecting what’s mine.”
THE EARLY NOVEMBER morning was cold and gray as Rodrigo turned the car down Prince Street, turning on Mercer.
Lola rolled down the window, breathing the cool air, relishing the feel against her hot skin. The air made her shiver. Or maybe it was the thought that she’d soon be Rodrigo’s wife. She looked up at the lowering sky. She wondered what Hallie and Tess would say when they were invited to Lola’s wedding out of the blue.
Her lips quirked. They would be surprised, to say the least.
She’d met Hallie Hatfield and Tess Foster last year at a New York single moms’ support group. They’d been the only ones who were pregnant, and they’d soon realized that none of them had told the fathers about the babies.
Her friends were both now happily married. While Lola just prayed she wasn’t making a horrible mistake.
Rodrigo pulled his sedan to the front of a fashionable prewar building in SoHo, where a doorman took his keys.
“Good morning, Mr. Cabrera. In the garage like always?”
“Thank you, Andrews,” Rodrigo said, walking around the car to get the stroller from the trunk. The doorman’s eyes widened when he saw it, and even more when he saw Lola get out and take their baby in her arms.
Tucking sleepy Jett into the stroller, Lola followed Rodrigo into the lobby of the luxurious building, and into an elevator that he accessed with a fingerprint.
On the top floor, the elevator opened directly onto a private foyer. And Lola entered the penthouse loft she hadn’t visited in over a year.
Shivering, she looked around the large, bohemian penthouse loft. Colorful furniture filled the enormous space, and huge windows showed an expansive, unrestricted southern view of the city, to the skyscrapers of Lower Manhattan. She could dimly see the steel and glass building where she’d once worked for Sergei Morozov. Strange to think that Rodrigo could have been unknowingly looking at her, whenever he’d visited New York. So close, but so far apart.
The bare brick walls were decorated with old original movie posters, along with old neon signs, which were no doubt originals, too. Rodrigo had occasionally seen neon signs he liked as he traveled to his movie sets around the world, from Tokyo to Sydney to Berlin. She’d watched in awe as he’d casually bought entire businesses, simply to acquire the signs.
That was Rodrigo, Lola thought, a little bitterly. He’d rip out someone’s beating heart just to tap his toe to the rhythm.
She blinked hard, to make sure no trace of emotion was on her face. She might become his wife, but he’d never possess her. She’d never let herself love him, ever again.
“Miss Price!” The New York housekeeper, Mrs. Farrow, came in from the next room of the loft. The woman’s plump face broke into a big smile. “I’m so glad you’re back. And how exciting, you’re going to be married?”
“Strange, huh?” Lola said, feeling awkward. Especially when the woman was followed by a white-haired, distinguished-looking man Lola didn’t know.
“Not strange. Lovely.” Mrs. Farrow knelt before the stroller, smiling at Jett. “And this is your baby?”
“Yes... Jett.”
The older woman beamed. “He’s adorable.”
Pulling off her black gloves, one by one, Lola stuck them in her pockets. “Thank you.”
The white-haired man smiled at her, his eyes twinkling beneath bushy white brows. “So should we get this show on the road?”
Lola frowned at Rodrigo. “What’s he talking about?”
“This is the judge,” he said. “He’s going to marry us.”
“What? When?”
“Today.” Rodrigo’s lips curved. “Now.”
Lola stared at him in shock.
“We can’t,” she stammered. “We need a marriage license.”
“Occasionally, when there’s a good reason, the rules can be bent.”
“What’s the good reason?”
His black eyes gleamed. “It’s Sunday. And I wish to marry you today. Not wait to get the license from City Hall tomorrow and then wait another twenty-four hours after that.” He turned to the judge. “Shall we begin, your honor?”
“Now?” Lola’s head was spinning. “No! I want a real ceremony! With my friends!”
Rodrigo’s sensual lips curved sardonically. “Sorry to crush all your romantic dreams,” he said, as if he was sure she didn’t actually have any. “You’ll have to settle—” he reached into his pocket “—for this.”
Holding up a small black velvet box, he opened it to reveal an engagement ring. Her eyes went wide. The diamond was as huge as a robin’s egg.
“We have everything else we need. Witnesses.” He looked at Mrs. Farrow, and Tobias, the bodyguard who’d just come in through the front door. “A judge.” Tilting his head, he said courteously to the white-haired man, “I hope your daughter is doing well.”
“Yes, and I’ll never forget how you helped her,” the judge said warmly. “My four grandchildren still have a mother today thanks to you.”
Rodrigo acknowledged his praise with a slight nod. “I was glad to pay for the experimental treatment. I’m pleased it worked. And grateful for your help.”
“What, marrying you two?” The judge’s voice was genial. “Marrying folks is my favorite part of the job! I’ll make sure the paperwork’s all handled right.” Then, looking at Lola, he faltered. “Of course, only if the lady is willing.”
“I’m not,” she said flatly.
“Excuse us for a moment.” Grabbing her arm, Rodrigo pulled her back to the foyer. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Lifting her snoozing, limp baby from the stroller, she glared at him fiercely. “I’m not getting married without my friends!”
“Which friends are you hoping to see?” Rodrigo’s voice was dangerous and low. “A certain lovelorn Russian, to try to make me jealous?”
Lola looked at him in shock, then burst into a laugh. “Sergei? You can’t be serious!”
“I don’t intend to wait.” His expression hardened. “We’re getting married. Right now.”
“Or else what?”
“Do not defy me.”
“Is that a threat?”
His voice changed. “Marrying me today will benefit you as well.”
“How?”
“It goes both ways. Perhaps if we wait—” he tilted his head thoughtfully “—I’ll get cold feet and decide to call it all off.”
“Fine with me—”