Pregnancy Of Passion. Lucy Monroe

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СКАЧАТЬ reeled from the words as if they’d been multiple body blows, staggering backwards, the pain so intense she did not know if she could contain it.

      In a lightning-quick move that shocked her, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her the remaining inches while his mouth formed words she could not comprehend. Her body molded to his in a way that had once given her pleasure, but now filled her with loathing and fear. Loathing for her own physical reaction and fear that he would see it.

      “Do not speak of yourself in this crude way. Whatever you were before, when we were together, you gave yourself to me. It was not ugly, as you make it out to be.”

      Whatever she’d been before? A virgin. That was what she’d been, but because the physical barrier had not survived her years in gymnastics he had assumed otherwise. Had in fact assumed she was the same sort of woman as her mother. A woman who flitted from one lover to another, Shawna had been uninterested in making a commitment to any of the long line of men parading through her life.

      “I’m done giving myself to you. I’ve learned my lesson,” she spat at him.

      His jaw looked hewn from the hardest marble, his eyes glittered at her with fury.

      She was glad. She wanted to make him angry, angry enough to leave her alone once and for all.

      “We do not need to discuss this right now. I am here to see to your safety. Our relationship will wait.”

      “We don’t…” She yanked herself away from him and stepped back toward her desk. “There is no relationship. None. Do you hear me? Leave me alone, Salvatore. You have no place in my life any more and you never will again.”

      He didn’t say anything, just stared at her.

      Then his gaze dropped below her neck and she wanted to scream. The whole time she’d been telling him off, the feminine parts of her body had been busy reacting to his scent, to the sensation of being held against him again.

      “You’re lying to yourself if you believe that.”

      She crossed her arms over the betraying rigid tips of her breasts and glared. “I’d rather go to bed with a sewer rat than with you, Signor Salvatore Rafael di Vitale.”

      His head jerked as if she’d hit him. She wished she had.

      His next words totally shocked her because they were so calm. “Signor di Adamo needs several security upgrades before either you or he will be safe in the store, and, even with them, neither of you should be here alone at any time.”

      She fell back into her office chair, feeling the weight of her responsibilities too heavy to hold up any longer. Those upgrades, even the basic security measure of having two people in the store at all times, were not even pipe dreams. “I’m sure you’re right, but nothing can be done.”

      “It must be done.”

      “There is no money.”

      Unmoved by that assertion, he said, “Nevertheless, it must be done.”

      Hadn’t he heard her? Or was it that to a man like Salvatore, whose family owned one of the most prestigious and sought-after security firms in the world, the concept of not having any money did not compute?

      He being richer even than her father, she supposed that was exactly the case.

      “We can’t.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, for a moment not caring if her enemy saw this sign of weakness. She was so tired. “Signor di Adamo is trying to hold on to the store for his grandson, but it gets harder every year.”

      “The auction for the crown jewels will bring in funds.”

      “Yes. A great deal of money that he needs very badly, but I don’t know if even that will be enough. The security system isn’t the only thing needing improvement around here.”

      She thought of the building’s leaky plumbing and dodgy wiring. It was old, original to the store’s inception. She shuddered to think of what sort of improvement Signor di Adamo’s private apartments required.

      “I will take care of it.”

      “He won’t let you.” One of the things that had drawn her to the old man was his fierce sense of independence so like her own. His pride would never accept charity.

      She said so, but Salvatore just shrugged. Not really a smile, the tiny tilt at the corner of his lips reminded her of things she would rather forget.

      “I know how to work around a man’s pride.”

      “I don’t doubt it. You’re good at manipulating people.”

      He shook his head. “I will not allow you to draw me into another argument, cara.”

      “I don’t want to argue with you.” It was true. The rage that had sprung up before was all but burned out. She just wanted him to be gone.

      “This is good.”

      For a moment her mind could not comprehend what he had said until she realized she had only spoken aloud regarding not wanting to argue, not her desire for him to be gone. “I don’t want to see you at all.”

      “We cannot have everything, dolcezza.”

      Dolcezza. Sweetness. He’d used to call her that because he said she tasted and acted so sweet. It scraped at wounds that were no longer raw and bleeding, but were not anywhere near healed. “Don’t call me that.”

      “Where are the crown jewels now?” he asked, as if she’d never spoken.

      “I told you. They’re in the vault.”

      His body went taut, his attitude one of extreme alertness. “You’ve taken possession of them already?”

      “Yes.”

      “Your father thought they were not being transported from Mukar for a week or more.”

      “That is what the former crown prince wished. He told everyone they were being transported just before the auction. He hoped to make the transfer in secret. It worked.”

      “Just because I did not know you had them does not mean no one is aware they have been brought here.”

      “They’re safe in the vault,” she repeated stubbornly.

      “Perhaps, but you are not safe.”

      He kept harping on it and she knew he was right, but she didn’t know what to do about it. And frankly, when she’d negotiated for the auction, she hadn’t really cared about her safety one way or another.

      The numbness after losing the baby and Salvatore had worn off, but a certain malaise of spirit lingered on. Sure personal happiness was out of her reach, she would risk anything, do anything to ensure it for a man who had been so good to her. Signor di Adamo.

      Salvatore had moved without her realizing, while her mind had been off in its own little world. His hand brushed her cheek and she felt the gentle touch like a branding that both burned and physically hurt.

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