The Surrogate's Secret (3 page)

Miguel paced in
his presidential suite, ignoring the beauty of its modern furnishings. He poured a drink and carried it over to the balcony where the flowing waters of the Potomac River reflected the dazzling city lights. The Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument seen in the distance were striking at night, but he paid scant attention. Instead, he rubbed his cheek first and then the back of his head as he leaned against the iron railing. Exhaustion battled with illness, and he didn’t know what made him feel worse.

His plan to pay off the
surrogate and take charge of his niece or nephew appeared foolish to him now that he’d met Sheri O’Connor. It seemed ludicrous that when he least expected or wanted it to happen, he’d finally encountered a woman with scruples. What were the odds? Most women he’d known had been mercenary hustlers. Now, when he hadn’t the energy for combat, he had a battle on his hands with a moralist, and no easy way to win.

Miguel moved over to the glass-topped desk and picked up his cell phone. He
couldn’t put off calling home any longer. His mother would be anxious to find out what he’d discovered about her grandchild. Since their return from the Colombian jungle and the information about Felipe’s death, he’d been emotionally closed off to her.  The heavy load of guilt he carried made everything difficult.  After all, it was Miguel’s fault she’d been away when Felipe had crashed his car, his fault that she’d missed her youngest son’s funeral.

He’d do anything to right her world, and he thought he’d found the answer by promising to bring home her gran
dchild. Now he’d have to admit that the vow he’d made to her before he left Chile might have been premature even presumptuous. Money didn’t seem to cut it with the gorgeous she-devil he’d wrangled with earlier that day and he had no idea how to sway Senorita O’Connor into seeing things his way.

“Mamacita
. It’s Miguel.” That she’d answered after the first ring was not a good sign.  He knew she’d be chewing his ass for making her wait.

“Mi hijo. What took you so long? I’ve been going crazy.”

“Sorry, my darling. Things haven’t gone quite according to plan, and I hated to tell you bad news.”

“What happened? Didn’t you find them?”

“Yes, of course. No trouble there. The problem is that Sheri O’Connor is not what we expected at all. She refuses to give up the babies—”

“Babies? Twins? How wonderful. Boys or girls?”

“One of each. They were sleeping when I arrived, and I didn’t disturb them, but I’m going back tomorrow.”

“Oh
, Miguel. Take some photos and send them on your phone. Promise me.”

“Yes, I promise. Now M
amá
, please don’t get too upset, or you’ll have a relapse. At this moment, the surrogate isn’t willing to let me adopt them. In fact, she was adamant that they were her children, and would be staying with her. Since they were her eggs used in the fertilization treatments, she is their legal mother, and has a much stronger claim then we do.”

“Oh no. I so wanted…” She faded,
but he distinctly heard a cuss word whispered that she’d only ever use under intense duress.  When she began to talk again, her voice had hardened. “Look, do whatever it takes, Miguel. Explain how
her
government called you to come back to active service, and go on a mission to Colombia to release their political hostages. How you were beaten and starved and thought dead, and how because of those beatings, her children will be the last possible heirs to the Rivera estates—” The harshness in her tone gave over to threatening sniffles.

Miguel felt the hardness melt around the heart only his mother could soften.
“You know the only reason I accepted the job was to release Nick from the hostages. If the son of papá’s oldest friend hadn’t been part of the equation, I would never have left home.”

“True. Nicholas is alive today because of your bravery. But look what you’ve lost
.”

An ache built inside and he tensed. Rigid with pain, he tried not to let it show in his voice. “What? What did I lose, really? A fiancé who wouldn’t wait long enough for me to be switched from the MIA files to the Dead files before she married another man. No doubt, now that we know Margarita’s true nature, I’d have been dealing with a miserable divorce down the road.”

A harsh sigh sounded over the long-distance. “
Oh, Miguel. If she’d just trusted me and waited for you to return. I told her you weren’t dead. I swore to her I’d have known, but your fiancé preferred to believe those stupid government officials.”

“Mamacita, calm yourself. I don’t care about the
idiot girl. She’s married to someone else. Truth to tell, I consider myself lucky she didn’t get the gold band from me.”

“True, Miguel. Thank goodness the
little gold-digger held out for a fancy diamond solitaire and wouldn’t wear the family antique ring, or no doubt, she would have pawned that one also.”

Miguel winced. That solitaire had cost him plenty. Unknown to his mother, he’d never given Margarita the chance to turn down the family ring. He’d
understood that it wouldn’t suit her or maybe deep inside he’d sensed that she wasn’t fit to wear it.

Miguel heard his mother blowing her nose, and his stomach muscles clenched. He hated
knowing that his disastrous news was the cause of her unhappiness. She’d had so much to deal with over these past months. 

F
irst, he’d gone missing and was presumed dead. Then, for weeks she’d relentlessly harassed the American military officials, trying to convince them that he lived. Finally, putting together a team of men from his very own security company, she’d led the attack and freed him herself. To make matters worse, just when they’d believed their escape had succeeded, their helicopter had been shot down, and she’d taken a stray bullet.

As the only two survivors, it took them months to crawl out of the gruelling, brutal jungle, to be free from the
oversized relentless insects, the disgusting mire, and the pummelling pain. They’d hidden during the day from their pursuers, and he’d carried her most nights, all the while searching for food and certain plants to keep that damn insidious infection from taking her life.

The day they’d stumbled upon the villagers, who in the end had gotten them to freedom, they were half dead.
Their future plans had been the fuel driving them to keep going.  Miguel had looked forward to his reunion with his beautiful fiancé, and his mother couldn’t wait to see her younger son, Felipe, with his new baby.

When their plane touched down on the tarmac, t
he first sight of Chile had brought tears of relief and happiness. Then the horrific news of Felipe and Mary-Anne’s death destroyed the small improvement in Andrea’s health and it was only the thought of her grandchild that had kept the distraught woman from total collapse. The possibility that they could bring that child home had kept her sane.

Her next words reclaimed
Miguel’s wandering thoughts. “Felipe’s offspring have the right to their inheritance. It’s what their Papá would have wanted under the circumstances. Sheri must be made to understand that the estates are extensive and require this new generation to be caretakers. Tell her, Miguel. Be firm when you’re talking with her, not bossy, but firm, and my son, be…be nice.” Her tearful entreaties forced him to take a deep breath before he answered.

“I will,
Mamá. Please rest now. You have my word. Everything will work out the way it should.”

“Adios, mi hijo. Te quiero.”

“I love you too. Adios.” Stabbing the off button, he tossed it against the cushions on the plush sofa. Then he stretched, arms high in the air, and squirmed, trying to ease the tightness he felt over his entire body. He walked to the bar and refilled his glass with a double shot and lay down on the bed.

He thought back to earlier in the day and recalled again the image he couldn’t seem to forget. The little beauty
—with her masses of uncontrolled golden curls, deep-brown eyes that smiled even when her lips disagreed and a figure like that of the Venus de Milo statue—had woken too many reactions.  Reactions he hadn’t expected. The grin caught him off guard.  Guess the doctors were right after all. Though he’d never be able to make children, the vicious beatings obviously hadn’t made his equipment faulty.

Didn’t matter. After his experience with Margarita, the lying bitch, he had no desire for another woman in his life. Her treachery still amazed him. Back when Mary-Anne and Felipe had visited on their honeymoon, Margarita had probed Felipe about his business and the ways one would use his facility. Then she’d talked Miguel into stopping at his brother’s In Vitro clinic to leave a sperm deposit when he’d flown to the states to be briefed before he’d left for Col
ombia. At the time, her coaxing lips and knowledgeable hands helped win the argument. It would be a dangerous mission, and if something happened, Margarita begged that she wanted part of him to survive.

Miguel
put his arm over his eyes and swore. Once the government had released the data of his likely death, his intended had found a new man and he’d heard nothing from her since.

He downed the drink in one gulp and went over to get another.
Slamming the glass on the table, he reached for the bottle of expensive Scotch. Blasted, devious women were all piranhas, and he wanted nothing more to do with them. From now on he would take what they offered, and treat them the way they deserved.

His mother’s words came back to haunt him. They made him grunt
…
Be nice.
Being nice wouldn’t win this battle. 

He thought back to his first impression of Sheri O’Connor. There had been nothing in the surrogate’s numerous e-mails and phone messages
waiting for them on their return to Chile that indicated he’d be dealing with a tigress.

Before he’d left home, he’d expected this to be
simple. Pay the lady off in exchange for the baby. Regrettably, nothing comes easy. He should know that by now.

His next move—figure out a way to get his niece and nephew to their rightful place in their father’s homeland. Just thinking about the tiny apartment and the crowded rooms where they now lived made him shudder.

Why wouldn’t Sheri consent to giving him custody? Did she want more money and thought that by holding out, he’d up the price? Women he’d known previously fit into this avaricious scenario, but somehow, he knew she didn’t. Not every woman resembled the deceitful Margarita.

He downed the rest of his drink
and grabbing the pillow; he folded it in two, and then squashed it to fit comfortably. With his hands linked behind his head, he stared at the high ceiling and made plans.

First, it was essential that he adopt those babies. This would be his one chance to be a
Papá, and to have heirs for all the wealth he’d inherited and accumulated. After all, those babies already belonged and had a right to the family fortune. Next, he’d cut back on his working hours and learn how to be the best daddy in the world. Regrettably, there was an obstacle called Sheri O’Connor standing between him and all his dreams.

For a man who ran a multi-million dollar conglomerate, dealt with hundreds of employees and noticed the fear of many when he walked into a room, one tiny, insignificant
, impoverished American mother shouldn’t pose any problem.

The next day when Miguel arrived at Sheri’s, he found desperation and pandemonium. Crying from inside the apartment had given him the first indication, and Sheri’s pinched, worried face when she’d opened the door to him, had clinched it.

“What’s wrong? Why are they screaming?” He hadn’t meant to sound accusing, but he knew by the narrowing of her eyes that she’d taken it that way.

“Do you think I’m abusing them? Give me a break. Rafael isn’t well. When he’s unhappy, so is Carrie-Anne. I’m getting him ready to take to the hospital. I just need for my friend Charly to get home, so I can leave Carrie-Anne there.” She wheeled around and headed back to the other room where it looked like an infant-insurgence had taken place. The playpen took up most of the space. Blankets, baby food dishes, half-filled bottles of milk and other toddler items filled the rest of the surfaces.  

Following behind, Miguel asked. “What’s wrong with the boy?” He put his shaky hands in his pockets to hide how much the news affected him.

Sheri turned, and lacking artifice, gathered her wayward curls and reached for the scrunchie on her wrist. Not finding one, she twisted her tresses into a braid and dropped it behind her shoulders, leaving her face framed by the shorter curly tendrils.  Without realizing how these movements had drawn attention to her body, she looked at Miguel and frowned. 

“I’ve been worried about Rafael for the last week.
A few days ago, I took him to the pediatrician down the street but she’d seemed too nonchalant in my opinion. Figured he had a cold and told me to get a humidifier for his bedroom. Mind you, his symptoms lessened somewhat, and I presumed he’d gotten over whatever bothered him. Today he’s been getting increasingly worse. His color is bad, and whatever’s wrong is affecting his breathing now.”

Command came easy to
Miguel. “Come, I’ll help you with Carrie-Anne. We’ll go now. I have a driver outside.”

Propped near the door leaned a baby’s car seat and a blanket. Sheri all but threw them at Miguel. “Okay then. Put this into the back seat. I’ll get the other one.”

Before she could move, the phone rang. Sheri leapt to answer. “Charly, thank God. Rafael is worse, and I’m taking him to the hospital. Their Uncle Miguel is here and he’ll go with me. All I need from you is to look after Carrie-Anne.”

Miguel hesitated to see if one car seat would be all they’d need.

Sheri’s words to this Charly character had Miguel’s eyes narrowing. “Have I told you lately how much I adore you? Right, I’ll get everything ready for Rafael, and leave Carrie-Anne for you. She’s upset now because her brother’s been crying, but she should settle as soon as it’s quiet. And having her Charly nearby will bring back the smiles.” Sheri made a kissy sound into the receiver and hung up the phone. Her sigh of relief was huge.

She whipped back towards
Miguel lingering at the door. “My babysitter Charly will be here in a minute. Go, I’ll get Rafael ready, and we’ll meet you at the car.”  Miguel didn’t need to be told twice.

A handsome
man, Sheri’s male friend Charlie no doubt, rushed passed him as he made his way down the stairs, the elevator being in use.  His inclination to stop and question this guy that Sheri depended on made him hesitate, but just for a few seconds. He needed to get the funny-looking chair hooked into the back of the vehicle for his sick nephew. He only hoped the driver knew how the hell it worked.