Modern Romance November Books 5-8. Annie West
black faux fur—then led her out of the grand hotel. He handed his ticket to the valet, who brought his Ferrari around, gleaming sleekly in the night.
Now, it was just the two of them, alone in his car.
Lola tapped her high heel nervously in the passenger seat as he drove. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
Maybe it was all for the best that he’d found out, she tried to convince herself. She hated lying, mostly because she was so bad at it. At least now it was all in the open.
She hadn’t lied when she’d said she had powerful friends who would help her. Her two best friends were both married to billionaires, Hallie Moretti to the owner of the luxury Campania hotels, and Princess Tess Zacco di Gioreale to a Sicilian prince. Tess was also now a fashion designer in her own right. Lola had had to sneak out of Tess’s first fashion show last week in order to secretly take the evening GED test. She didn’t want her friends to know about it. Not until she knew she’d passed.
Lola hated admitting weakness of any kind. Which was why she’d never told her best friends anything about Jett’s father.
But if Rodrigo tried to take custody, she knew her friends would do anything for her—and their ruthless, adoring husbands would do anything for them.
She wouldn’t let anyone take Jett from her.
Lola exhaled, tightening her hands in her lap as she looked out at the passing lights of the city, traveling east through Manhattan. He hadn’t spoken once since she’d given him the address for her apartment in Murray Hill.
She pointed toward the nondescript apartment building. “That’s it.”
“Is there an attached garage?”
“Garage?” Her lips quirked. “There’s not even a doorman.”
With a sigh, he drove ahead until he found a parking spot on the street. Lola looked at the small parking space dubiously, but Rodrigo swerved the sports car into it with practiced ease. Opening her car door, he held out his hand.
Nervously, Lola took it. As he helped her out of the car, she tried not to notice how it felt to have his larger, stronger hand around her own.
He dropped her hand quickly and she shivered in her coat as they walked past trees with rattling brown leaves, in the heart of chilly November. She’d lived here for almost a year and liked it. It was a safe, comfortable neighborhood, not flashy but good for families, within walking distance of Grand Central Terminal. Her building was full of nice people, such as the kindly widow who occasionally watched Jett, as she was tonight.
Punching in her code to get in the door, she led him to the elevator, and then pressed the button for the fifth floor. At every moment, she was aware of him standing close beside her. They were alone, just the two of them, in this enclosed space.
She was relieved when they reached her floor. She hurried out of the elevator, then down the nondescript hallway. Unlocking her door, she went inside. Rodrigo followed her closely, not touching, like a dark shadow.
Inside, her apartment was quiet, with only a single lamp on in the main room. The furniture had all come with the apartment and, though old, was comfortable enough.
A white-haired lady sat in an overstuffed chair next to the lamp. She looked up with a smile on her lips, knitting in her hands. “Lola, you’re back early—”
The widow’s eyes went wide when she saw Rodrigo, and no wonder. For the year Lola had lived here, she’d never invited any man to this apartment. Now, in the space of a single night, there’d been two different ones: Lola had left for the charity ball with Sergei and returned with Rodrigo.
When the kindly widow had told her she needed to get out and live a little, this probably wasn’t what she’d had in mind.
“Hi, Mildred,” Lola said. “Yes, I was feeling tired.”
“Did you have a nice time?” the elderly woman said stiffly, looking at Rodrigo.
Lola never liked giving too much away. But she didn’t want her neighbor to get the wrong idea. “This is Jett’s father.”
“Oh?” Her eyes went wide. She said with a big smile, “Oh.”
“How was Jett tonight?” Lola said quickly, changing the subject.
“He was an angel. I gave him his bottle and bath. He’s been asleep for about an hour.” Gathering up her knitting, she rose to her feet, a grin on her wrinkled face as she looked between Lola and Rodrigo. “I’m sure you two have things to talk about.”
Uh-oh. Now Mildred was getting the wrong idea. “There’s no need to rush off—”
“Thank you for watching him,” Rodrigo said gravely, holding out a wad of hundred-dollar bills. The widow waved off the money.
“I’m happy to help. Jett’s a little darling. I’m just glad you’re finally here, after all this time,” she added pointedly. “A baby needs a father. Just as a woman needs a husband.”
With those firm words, the widow left.
“I definitely don’t need a husband,” Lola said, her cheeks burning.
“She thinks I abandoned you?” Rodrigo said, looking irritated.
She shrugged. “I’ve never spoken of you to anyone. Even my best friends don’t know who Jett’s father is.” Her lips quirked at the corners. “I think they’re under the impression that you’re either married, abusive or a total alcoholic.”
He glowered at her silently, his jaw tight.
Lola cleared her throat. “But you wanted to see Jett.”
Hanging up her coat, she walked into the small apartment’s only bedroom, motioning for him to follow.
A beam of moonlight pooled from the bedroom window to a spot between the bed and the crib wedged against the wall. Going to the crib, Lola looked down at her precious son. The four-month-old was sleeping peacefully, his chubby arms flung up over his head. A swell of love went through her.
“This is Jett,” she whispered.
Rodrigo came up beside her, resting his powerful hands on the edge of the crib. He looked down at their sleeping baby. Lola’s heart lifted to her throat as she looked between them.
Jett looked exactly like his father. She’d never realized it before, because she hadn’t wanted to see it. But they had the same slight curl in their dark hair, the same black Spanish eyes. The baby yawned, showing a single dimple just like his father’s. His dark lashes blinked sleepily.
The powerful media tycoon said in wonder, “He’s so tiny.”
“For now.” A smile lifted her lips as she looked at him. “Someday he’ll be as big as you.”
For a long moment, they stood together, looking down at their son. She was aware of Rodrigo’s hand just inches from hers. She could almost feel the warmth from his skin.
Suddenly, she yearned to tell him everything. To share things she’d never told even Hallie and Tess. Her friends thought Lola was so tough, but the truth was, she’d been scared, coming to New York alone after their breakup. She’d chosen it as her new home in a desperate, hopeless yearning to be closer to her little sisters, the only family she had left. Then she’d been too scared to contact them.
She’d thought of Rodrigo so many times during her pregnancy. When she’d gotten her first ultrasound. When she’d learned she was having a boy. When she’d gone into labor. And every day before, and since.
But she hadn’t contacted him. Because she’d known the man she wanted—the man she’d loved—didn’t exist. And in his place, with the same gorgeous, devastating body and heartbreaking dark eyes, was a man who could destroy her.
Now, Rodrigo lifted his gaze to hers. For a moment, she held