‘And both those things are true.’ He saw her flinch. ‘Is that why you didn’t tell me?’
‘Iwasplanning to tell you!’
‘When?’ he grated. ‘When you were wheeling the infant in a stroller for a walk aroundEaling? Or were you planning on waiting until graduation?’
‘I was actually planning to ring you up today.’
‘Wow, what an amazing coincidence,’ he said sarcastically.
‘Life is full of coincidences, Vito—haven’t you learnt that by now?’ She sucked in a shuddering breath. ‘Listen, there’s no point in you being angry, or me reacting to your anger, because it isn’t helpful to anyone. It is what it is. I’m not planning on asking you for anything and I certainly don’t expect you to slide a gold band on my finger.’
‘Well, that’s good since I’m right out of gold bands,’ he drawled and, as her eyelids shuttered down to hide her hurt expression, he wondered if his words had been unnecessarily cruel. But it was the truth, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it better she accepted his heartlessness from the get-go, in case she started concocting some kind of fantasy happy-ever-after? ‘But that doesn’t mean that I am unwilling to help in other ways,’ he conceded. ‘Which is why I am here today.’
‘You should have saved yourself the trip. I don’t need your help!’
‘Are you quite sure about that?’ With a sweeping gesture, he indicated the cramped dimensions of the tiny room—the battered sofa and faded curtains which fluttered in the chill that was seeping in through the window. ‘You think this is a good place to bring up a baby?’
Flora willed herself not to get emotional as Vito continued to talk so coldly and dispassionately about the tiny life she carried, but a terrible sadness had started welling up inside her, along with a familiar wave of nausea—the first she’d had in almost a fortnight. ‘I have to go!’ she gulped, stumbling from the room towards the bathroom, glad to have an excuse to escape the scrutiny of that icy stare.
Turning on the taps full blast, she hoped the rush of water would disguise the sound of her retching and once the sickness had passed, she brushed her teeth rather violently, raked a brush through her hair and shuddered at the image reflected back at her in the tiny mirror above the sink. She looked awful. Drained and drawn and the antithesis of how a glowing pregnant woman was supposed to look. It was the last way she would have wished to present herself to him, until she reminded herself that what she looked like was irrelevant.
Reluctantly, she made her way back towards the sitting room, registering the incongruous spectacle of Vito Monticelli dominating her tiny flat. With his powerful body silhouetted against the rain-splashed window, it was hard to look anywhere other than at him. She noticed he had removed his overcoat and was wearing jaded jeans and a soft sweater a shade darker than his eyes. She realised she’d never seen him dressed so casually before and there was something dangerously accessible about this laid-back version of the Italian billionaire. Pared down, his sex appeal was just as potent and Flora was surprised by the sudden curl of longing inside her. Be careful, she thought suddenly. Be very, very careful.
His icy-blue gaze pierced through her. ‘You have been sick?’ he demanded.
‘Only a bit. It’s the first time in a couple of weeks. Don’t worry. It’s perfectly normal.’
‘No.No lo so!None of this isnormal!’ he contradicted, drawing in an impatient breath before pointing to one of the two modest armchairs. ‘You are pale, Flora—for god’s sake sit down.’
Flora was about to protest that he couldn’t start coming in here throwing his weight around, but one look at the tension which was making his features tighten made her accept she had to cut him some slack. The news must have come as a terrible shock to him too, she acknowledged, putting aside her own wounded pride. And the sicknesshadleft her feeling weak.
‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,’ she said awkwardly, slumping into the nearby chair and sinking back into the cushions with a feeling of relief. ‘But I was shocked too. I couldn’t get my head around it and I didn’t know how you were going to take it.’ She still didn’t know. ‘Anyway, I’ve been managing okay.’
‘You think so? You don’t look as if you’re managing to me, not by any stretch of the imagination,’ he accused. ‘You’ve lost weight, you look exhausted and it’s freezing in here.’
‘It’s not f-freezing,’ she argued, though annoyingly her teeth had started to chatter. Maybe that was word association. ‘Okay, it’s a bit cold, I agree. But this is England, not Italy—in case you hadn’t noticed.’
His click of impatience made clear that now was not the time for levity. ‘This place is not suitable for you to have a child.’
She looked at him in exasperation. ‘How do you think most women manage, Vito? They have babies in ordinary places just like this!’
‘I think your situation is a little different frommost women.’
‘Why?’ she demanded. ‘Because I’m pregnant by a man who never wanted to see me again and is a long-time opponent of family life? Or because you happen to be obscenely rich?’
‘Flora, Flora, Flora,’ he intoned placatingly. ‘Please. Stop. I don’t think that kind of attitude is helping.’
‘Stop speaking the truth, you mean? Don’t youdarepatronise me, Vito Monticelli!’
She clenched her hands and for a moment it looked as if she might be about to launch herself out of the chair and punch her fists against his chest. And wasn’t there a part of Vito which wished she would, so that he could cradle her petite body to his as he had been longing to do for weeks? So he could feel all that soft, curving warmth beneath his questing fingers and claim her trembling lips with his own—blotting out this unwanted reality she had presented to him, with the sweet oblivion of sex.
‘Let’s cut to the chase,’ he said thickly, angry with the erotic distraction of his thoughts. ‘What do you envisage happening next?’
She looked startled. ‘Well, I guess I’ll just carry on until I’m too big to work. And then I’ll take maternity leave and then I’ll… I’ll…’
Deliberately, Vito allowed the silence to grow as her words tailed off. She really hadn’t thought this through, he realised, with a flicker of impatience. ‘That isn’t going to work, I’m afraid,’ he said, at last. ‘Your current condition isn’t compatible with being secretary to the CEO.’
‘Ah, sothat’swhere this is headed, is it?’ She tilted her chin with proud defiance. ‘Well, good luck with trying to sack me! There are laws against such things, you know.’
