In the Italian's Bed: Bedded for Pleasure, Purchased for Pregnancy / The Italian's Ruthless Baby Bargain / The Italian Count's Defiant Bride. Carol Marinelli

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СКАЧАТЬ you will have access to limitless funds to feed your filthy habit.’ Picking up his briefcase he turned to go, but thought better of it. ‘I’m assuming that will be the case? I mean,’ he added nastily, ‘people don’t usually come out of a casino crying when they’ve won!’

      ‘You’re so quick to think the worst…’ She didn’t have to justify herself to him—didn’t have to beg his understanding or forgiveness for a crime she hadn’t even committed. ‘You’re so sure that everyone’s out for your precious dollar!’

      ‘Remind us both again—exactly why are you here, Emma? Even before we got into this you told me yourself that was the only thing you wanted from me!’

      ‘After you had gone back to her!’ Tears stung her eyes as she veered towards the truth. ‘You slept with me and then went back to her, Zarios. What did you want me to say? Congratulations? I hope the two of you will be happy—or the three of you, or whatever made you deem it necessary to just walk away?’

      ‘Leave it, Emma…’ Zarios warned, but she wasn’t listening.

      ‘You hurt me, Zarios, and I said those things to hurt you.’

      ‘That morning…’ His usually swarthy face was pale, his jaw so quilted with tension she could see the effort it took for him to form words. ‘It was never my intention to go back to her. Miranda told me…I found out that she was…’ He shook his head hopelessly. ‘Leave it, Emma,’ he said again.

      Oh, but she wouldn’t.

      ‘She was pregnant?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Did she have an abortion?’ Emma flailed in the dark for an answer. ‘Or lose the baby?’

      ‘I’ve told you!’ Zarios roared. ‘There was no baby.’

      ‘So it’s true, then?’ Over and over she’d tried to fathom an excuse for him—told herself that the papers had got it wrong, that the man she happened to love really wasn’t that much of a bastard.

      Except he was.

      ‘I have every right to say those hateful things.’ Through pale strained lips she told him her truth. ‘I have every right to hate you—because you threw away what we had for no good reason. And Miranda has every right to hate you, too.’

      ‘Leave her out of it.’

      ‘Just as you did,’ Emma spat, ‘when she couldn’t provide you with children. Well, guess what, Zarios? You don’t deserve them!’

      Always Zarios had the last word—always there was a retort or a scathing reply—but not this time. His face was as white as chalk apart from his black angry eyes. He didn’t even pick up his briefcase. He just walked towards the door. And if it hadn’t been 8:00 a.m.—if she hadn’t seen that he had been perfectly lucid just moments earlier—from his stagger Emma would have sworn he had been drinking.

      ‘Zarios!’ She called out to him but it was too late. The door had closed behind him without so much as a slam.

      Emma was shaking—not just at the venom of her words, but at the effect they had had. She could feel nausea rising, and barely made it to the bathroom in time. Crouching, hugging the bowl, she was more sick than she had ever been in her life. The anger that had been aimed at him was now aimed somehow at herself, at her fury for not being able to accept that he wasn’t the man she wanted him to be, was sure he could be.

      After rinsing her mouth, Emma made her way back to the lounge, reading again the article that had led them to this row. Heading for the bin, she picked up the card he had tossed away.

      The English wasn’t great, but Emma was touched at the effort the woman had made.

      Emma and Zarios,

      It was with happiness I received the good news of your engagement.

      Emma, I hope to meet you soon, to share in your joy.

      Mamma xxx

      What joy?

      Emma stared at her luxurious surrounds and realised then that they counted for nothing—the trappings of wealth had done nothing to fade his scars.

      Did Bella have any idea what she’d done?

      ‘Well, that was a lot easier.’ Blushing and uncomfortable, she attempted a smile as she closed his office door behind her. ‘Your assistant didn’t even ask me to take a seat.’

      ‘What are you doing here, Emma?’ His face was grey now rather than white.

      ‘You forgot your briefcase!’ she said brightly, dangling it on her finger. It was a pathetic excuse and they both knew it. ‘Damage control, too…’ she attempted. ‘I thought it might look better if I show my face.’

      ‘My staff knows better than to believe what they read in the newspaper—and, as I said, there will be a retraction and an apology printed tomorrow.’

      ‘Do they work?’ Emma sniffed. ‘Because if they do, I’d like to try…’

      ‘Let’s just leave it.’

      ‘I’m sorry for what I said this morning—about you not deserving children.’

      ‘Can we forget about that, please?’

      ‘Can we?’

      ‘I just did.’ He flashed a very on-off smile and Emma would have given anything to go back, anything to have him tease her or goad her—anything rather than this great aching distance that gaped between them.

      ‘I thought we could go for lunch—’

      ‘I have meetings.’ Zarios didn’t even let her finish. ‘Why don’t you go shopping…?’

      ‘I don’t want to go shopping.’ If she sounded petulant, it was from the embarrassment of having him politely refuse the olive branch she was offering.

      ‘You need an outfit for the ball next Saturday. Our company is the major sponsor, and we will both be in the spotlight—it is an important event!’

      ‘So what’s the charity?’

       ‘Scusi?’

      He often did this, Emma had started to realise. If he was playing for time, his excellent English would curiously slip.

      ‘Che cosa è la carità?’ Emma said sweetly, in her phrasebook Italian, and Zarios raised an eyebrow. She then asked again. ‘What’s the ball in aid of?’

      ‘A children’s charity…’ Zarios answered evasively, but there was just a hint of a smile on the edge of his lips as she played him at his own game. ‘I assume. So, when did you start to learn Italian?’

      ‘This morning,’ Emma admitted. ‘I knew you had no idea what the ball was in aid of.’

      ‘Well, I will graciously concede the point.’ СКАЧАТЬ