be me.â Not after what had happened to him that night on the run in San Rinaldo. Rebel bullets had killed his mother and nearly killed him while he tried to protect her. Tried. And failed.
He held up a hand to keep her from interruptingâor leaving. âThe accident that caused my limp had other physical ramifications as well.â Carlos forced himself to say the words he hadnât shared with anyone. âLilah, Iâm sterile.â
Two
L ilah had faced her fair share of shockers in her years as a city prosecutor and then administrator at the Tacoma hospital. Certainly learning Dr. Carlos Medina had been hiding his royal lineage had stunned her silly. But his words now beat all other surprising revelations, hands down.
Gripping the edge of the mahogany desk to steady her shaky world, she searched Carlosâs face for some sign of what possessed the innately honorable man to deny his own child.
Her hand still stung from her impulsive slap when heâd called her a liar. She hated the momentary loss of control thenâ¦and during his kiss earlier. No man affected her this way. Sheâd fought too long and hard not to be won over so easily like her mother. Yet a simplebrush of Carlosâs mouth against hers and sheâd almost ditched her panties again with this man.
A very virile man who now seemed intent on denying the consequences of their encounter.
âYouâre sterile?â she repeated, wondering if perhaps sheâd heard wrong. She must have heard wrong because she carried the living proof of his virility inside her. So either he was wrong or he was a coldhearted liar.
âThatâs what I said.â He shifted his weight to one foot in a manner that to most would look casual. But after years of knowing him, she recognized the subtle way he favored his aching leg and injured back, something he inevitably did when he was under stress.
Carlos Medina was one of those docs with a godlike status around the E.R., the surgeon most likely to pull off a miracle when a gurney wheeled in the impossible. Sheâd noticed that most people only saw that glow of success and intelligence around himâwhen they werenât noticing his obvious good looks. Not many people saw past that to detect the fallout of the intense pressure he put on himself. The shifting feet. The tendency to plant his spine against any vertical surface.
Except she could not think of that now. She had too much at stake to get sucked in by all the things she found compelling about this man, not the least of which were these small signs that he was human underneath all that cool professional brilliance.
âWhy didnât you say something when we were together that night?â she asked skeptically.
âI didnât see the information as relevant since procreation wasnât on our agenda.â His sardonic tone needled at her already tender nerves.
âBut you used condomsâ¦even if one failed in the hot tub.â
Just thinking of the combustible connection, their total loss of control threatened her balance even now. Theyâd started in his office, then raced to his home to spend the rest of the night together, awake and making the most of every moonlit minute.
âSafe sex has to do with more than pregnancy,â he pointed out practically.
Of course she knew that. Sheâd freaked when the condom broke, only partially calming down once heâd reassured her he was disease free. Yet in the back of her mind sheâd heard the haunting sound of her motherâs sobs behind a closed bedroom door. Lilah had been a preteen at the time, but old enough to understand the gist of her parentsâ fight.
Her fatherâs latest reckless affair had passed along a disease to his wife.
The STD had been treatable, thank heavens, but Lilah had been stunned by how quickly her mother forgave her husband for his infidelity. Again. And again.
Rather than forcing back the memories of