The Blackmailed Bride's Secret Child. Rachel Bailey

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      Not a chance. He strode past her into the warmth of her house.

      Turning, he took in the room with its roaring fireplace, decorated in colors that were pure Beth—delicate pinks, pale greens and ivory. Either Kent had trusted her sense of style, or he hadn’t cared.

      His gaze rested on the woman who’d closed the door, but still gripped the handle behind her, as if for support.

      The want, the need for her that always lurked below the surface surged up to flood his system. “I can’t leave you alone, even if I wanted to.”

      “W-why?”

      She’d seen it in his eyes, he knew she had—the unadulterated lust he felt had made her stammer. He took a step toward her, slowly, softly. “Because we have unfinished business.”

      She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Nico, people break up all the time. Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

      “Here’s the thing, bella. I don’t remember us breaking up. I remember making love to you in the vineyards under the light of a full moon.” He took another step forward. “I remember you pledging yourself to me for eternity, and I remember driving you home.”

      “Nico, please—”

      He held up his hand to stop her, then he snapped his fingers in her line of vision. “The next thing I know, you’ve left the country to marry my brother.”

      Her face twisted in an impersonation of guilt. “I wish I could have talked to you—”

      “I can see why you didn’t, though. Wouldn’t want any messy situations with Nico.” He planted his hands on his hips, the agony and shame of that day still raw in his chest. “Wouldn’t want him to ask for an explanation or, God forbid, plead with you not to leave.”

      And the disgrace of it was, he would have pleaded. At least he’d been spared the indignity of baring his weakness. Now he would not be weak.

      “Nico, I—”

      “One thing I wondered, though—” he prowled another step closer, eyes narrowed “—was it a spontaneous decision when a better offer came up? Or were you using me all along to get to the richer brother?”

      Like a switch had been flicked, her eyes became arctic. “Which did you decide I’d done?”

      “Kent told me that he offered you money to marry him, so I’m thinking it was probably a combination of the two.” And hadn’t Kent been gleeful in delivering that news? In delivering the final checkmate in their lifelong rivalry. “You must have thought all your Christmases had come at once when your target offered you money to do something you’d been planning anyway.” He laughed but it sounded bitter even to his own ears.

      The color drained from her face—a reaction she couldn’t have faked, so he’d obviously hit the nail on the head. Pain ripped through him—more pain, when he’d thought he’d felt all the agony he could. He pushed it away so he could continue and took a step forward. “He bought you fair and square. So tell me, Beth, what will it cost me to get you into my bed? I expect the price has gone up since then.”

      She pressed her hands to her chest. “Nico, don’t do this, please.”

      He raised a sardonic eyebrow and closed the last distance between them, leaving their bodies almost touching. “Is it purely a cash transaction, or do you prefer real estate and jewels?”

      She slid sideways, moving across the room to put a couch between them as a teardrop fell and traced a path down her cheek. “Nico, I’m sorry.”

      He swallowed, making himself remember that crying was an easy feat for an actress.

      A second tear followed the path of the first. “You’ll never know how sorry I am for what you went through.”

      He watched her hands turn white as they clasped together. So, perhaps she had a conscience about betraying him after all? But words came easily, and these did nothing to assuage the ache in his chest.

      He took off his suit coat and threw it over the couch she was hiding behind. “You’re sorry.” He shook his head slowly. “You finally said it. For all it’s worth.”

      Beth heard the dismissal in his tone and bit down on her lip. She’d once known Nico as well as she’d known herself—but this man was a stranger. “Will you accept my apology?”

      Nico walked through an archway into her living room and paced before coming to lean a shoulder in the doorway to the hall leading to Marco’s room. Thank God her son was gone for the weekend.

      Nico crossed one polished black shoe over the other. “You wounded my pride by leaving with my brother. That’s not an easy thing to forgive.”

      “I understand that.” She softened her voice. “Honestly, I do.”

      He pushed off the doorway to stand tall and proud. “Do you really? You’re sorry for humiliating me in front of my family? For selling yourself to a man who hated me from the day I was born?”

      She knew the real hurt that he wouldn’t voice. For breaking his heart.

      If her heart hadn’t stopped bleeding since being wrenched from its home with his, how much worse must it have been for him to be left behind?

      Then, as if a veil lifted from before her eyes, she glimpsed deep inside him to the real Nico, so loving and sweet beneath the hard man. The Nico he hid from everyone, even himself.

      Before she could change her mind, she went to him, but she didn’t do it for the bitter man before her. She did it for the Nico she’d loved more than life itself—for the pain she’d unwillingly caused. She did it for the Nico who was still somewhere inside him, hurting.

      An arm’s length away, heart racing, she stopped.

      He watched her closely, face inscrutable.

      Being this close to him made her ache to move the last step. To touch him. To taste his skin. To feel his touch. Her body reacted to him as if no time had passed. As if they still belonged to each other.

      But that time of belonging was long gone. And she was more sorry for that than he could ever know.

      She held out her hand, a peace offering, trying to convey the regret that overwhelmed her without using words, which he now distrusted.

      Heat flared in his brooding eyes and his jaw clenched, but he didn’t move.

       He felt it, too.

      The explosive sparks they generated when they were together. It’d been there again since he’d knocked on her door earlier this morning. Perhaps what she was doing would set a match to the tinder, but she remained standing, arm outstretched, offering him her hand.

      Then his gaze softened and he came to her, wrapping her in his embrace and pressing her close. His body felt different to her memories—more solid, he’d filled out beautifully. She felt him shudder as she wound her arms around his neck, and they stood there, motionless for timeless СКАЧАТЬ