Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child Read online

  She swung her head away, refusing to look at him. Even now the pain was too raw. A cold, leaden lump rose in her throat, but she refused to reveal her vulnerability.

  She drew a slow breath. ‘When I tried to contact you about the pregnancy, your stepmother said you were preparing for your wedding. She made it clear you had no time to spare for an ex-mistress.’

  ‘Livia said that?’ His astonished tone drew her unwilling gaze. His eyebrows jammed together in a V of puzzlement. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  No. That was the problem. He hadn’t believed her before either. Her word meant nothing against his suspicions. The reminder stiffened her backbone.

  ‘Frankly, Alessandro, I don’t care what you believe.’

  ‘It’s true Livia is fond of Carlotta,’ he murmured as if to himself. ‘And that she wants me to marry. But arranging a wedding? It never went that far.’

  How convenient his loss of memory was.

  Carys had confirmation of the betrothal from another source too. But most convincing of all had been the sight of Alessandro with the glamorous, blue-blooded Carlotta. Even now the recollection stabbed, sharp as a twisting stiletto in her abdomen, making her hunch involuntarily.

  The princess had stared up at him with exactly the same besotted expression Carys knew she herself had worn since the day he’d swept her off her feet and into his bed. Alessandro had kept the other woman close, his arm protectively around her as if she were made of delicate porcelain. He’d gazed into her eyes, utterly absorbed in their intimate conversation as if she were the only woman in the world.

  As if he didn’t have a convenient lover waiting obediently at home for him.

  Carys blinked to banish the heat glazing the back of her eyes. Resolutely she focused instead on Livia’s dismissive words when Carys had rung to tell Alessandro about her pregnancy.

  Alessandro will do what is necessary to provide for the child if it’s his. But don’t expect him to contact you in person. Her tone had made it clear Carys was too socially inferior to warrant anything more than a settlement engineered by his formidable legal team. The past is the past. And questions about your, shall we say…extra-curricular activities raise suspicions about the identity of the child’s father.

  That slur, above all, had been hard to swallow.

  How furious Alessandro’s stepmother would have been if she’d known Carys hadn’t accepted her word. Instead she’d left numerous messages on Alessandro’s private phone and sent emails, even a hand-written letter. She’d been so desperate for personal contact.

  Only after months of deliberate, deafening silence had she finally accepted he wanted nothing to do with either her or her unborn child. Then she’d determined to turn her back on the past and start afresh, not even considering a legal bid to win child support. Leo was better off without a father like that.

  Yet now it seemed Alessandro hadn’t known about her pregnancy.

  Her breath jammed in her throat. All this time he hadn’t known!

  He hadn’t rejected Leo at all.

  Nor was he married.

  Her head spun, trying to take in the implications, her emotions a whirling jumble. Once she might have believed that would change everything.

  Now she knew better.

  One glance at Alessandro confirmed it. He was absorbed in his thoughts, totally oblivious to the little boy perched on her lap, twisting around time and again to try catching the attention of the big man who so effortlessly dominated their flat.

  Alessandro had no interest in her either. She was nothing but a source of information.

  Or an easy lay.

  A shudder passed through her as memories of last night’s passion stirred. Carys stiffened her resolve.

  She looked into her baby’s excited green gaze. He twinkled back at her mischievously as he nattered away in a language all his own. He was the important thing in her life. Not ancient dreams of happily ever after with the wrong man.

  Whether Alessandro had known about the pregnancy or not didn’t matter. What mattered was that the grand passion they’d shared had been a cheap affair, not a love on which to build a future. And he couldn’t have made it clearer he had no interest in Leo.

  Bridges burned. End of story.

  Carys ignored the ache welling deep inside at the finality of it all and summoned a wobbly smile for Leo.

  ‘Time for a bath, young man.’ She gathered him close and stood on creaky legs. Suddenly she felt old beyond her years. Old with grief for what her son would never have, and with a stupid, obstinate hurt at being rejected again. After a lifetime of not measuring up, not being quite good enough, it was stupid to feel so wounded, but there it was.

  ‘Why did I tell you to leave my home? You still haven’t told me.’

  She looked across to see Alessandro on his feet, hands jammed deep in his trouser pockets. He stood as far from her as he could while remaining in the same room.

  Didn’t that say it all?

  ‘I’d decided to go anyway.’ She lifted her chin. After learning about Alessandro and Carlotta the scales had fallen from her eyes. Carys knew she had to get as far away from him as she could. ‘But you accused me of having an affair, of betraying your trust.’

  The irony should have been laughable. But Carys had never felt less like laughing. She jiggled Leo higher in her weary arms and straightened her back.

  ‘An affair? With whom?’ His brows furrowed and his features took on a remote, hawk-like cast. Condemnation radiated from him.

  ‘With Stefano Manzoni. He’s—’

  ‘I know who he is.’ If anything, Alessandro’s scowl deepened. His jaw set like stone and a pulse worked in his temple.

  ‘Nice company you keep,’ he said after a moment, his voice coolly disapproving.

  Talk about double standards!

  Carys jerked her chin higher. ‘I thought he was nice. At first.’ Until he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was another macho Italian male who couldn’t cope with rejection. Though, to be fair, she’d never felt unsafe with Alessandro. ‘I would have thought that as your Princess Carlotta’s cousin he’d be utterly respectable.’

  ‘She’s not my Carlotta.’ The words emerged through taut lips.

  ‘Whatever.’ Carys hunched stiff shoulders. ‘Now, it’s time for me to bathe Leo.’ Her composure was in tatters and her limbs trembled with exhaustion. She felt like a wrung-out dishrag. ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d go now.’ She couldn’t take any more.

  Alessandro’s appearance had dredged up emotions she thought she’d vanquished. Emotions that threatened to undo her. She needed desperately to be alone.

  All she had left was the torn remnants of her pride, and Carys refused to collapse in a heap while he was here.

  Head high, she walked on unsteady legs towards the front door, intending to show him out.

  Leo’s sudden sideways dive out of her arms took her completely unawares. One minute she was holding him. The next he was plunging headlong towards the floor when his bid to throw himself at Alessandro failed.

  ‘Leo!’

  Belatedly Carys grabbed for him, her weariness banished as adrenaline pumped hard and fast through her bloodstream, but her reactions were too slow.

  ‘It’s all right. I’ve got him.’ How Alessandro got there so fast she didn’t know, but he scooped Leo up in his arms just before he hit the floor.

  Her heart catapulted against her ribs, slowing only when she saw he had the baby safe in his large hands. Relief shook her so hard her legs wobbled.

  He held Leo awkwardly, at a distance from himself.

  As if he couldn’t bear to touch him? Or as a man would who’d never had experience with babies?

  Carys hesitated, trying to decide which. In that moment Leo latched onto Alessandro’s suit-clad arm, plucking at the fabric as if trying to climb closer. Green eyes met green, and Leo frowned, his chubby face puckering as he regarded the unsmiling man before him.

  Finally, like the sun emerging
from behind a cloud, Leo smiled. His whole face lit up. His hands thumped on Alessandro’s arm and he crowed with delight.

  Terrific! Her son had developed a soft spot for a man who never wanted to see him.

  Obstinately Carys shied from dwelling on the sight of her son in his father’s arms. It would be the only time. It was foolish to feel even a jot of sentimentality over the image of the tall, strong man holding her precious baby so ineptly yet so securely.

  Carys hurried forward, arms outstretched.

  ‘I’ll take him.’

  Alessandro didn’t even turn his head. He was busy regarding Leo, not even flinching when the child’s rhythmic thumps against his arm became real whacks as he grew impatient with the adult’s lack of response.

  ‘Alessandro?’ Her voice was husky. The intensity of his stare as he looked down at his son made something flip over in her stomach. Anxiety walked its fingers down her spine.

  ‘I’ll arrange for the necessary tests to be done as soon as possible. Someone will ring you tomorrow with the details.’

  ‘Tests?’

  He didn’t even turn at the sound of her voice, but he did lift Leo a little closer, winning himself a gurgle of approval and a spate of excited Leo-speak.

  Carys watched Leo lean up, patting both hands over Alessandro’s square, scrupulously shaved jaw. A squiggle of emotion unsettled her, seeing her little boy with the man she’d once loved.

  If only circumstances had been different.

  No! It was better she knew what sort of man Alessandro was and that in his eyes she could never measure up.

  ‘DNA tests, of course.’ He flashed an assessing look from slitted eyes. ‘You can’t expect me to take your word this is my son.’

  Her stomach went into freefall.

  She’d fought so hard to have Alessandro acknowledge his son before giving up in despair. Yet now she felt fear at his sudden interest. Fear at what this might mean.

  Leo was hers. But if Alessandro decided he wanted him…

  She found refuge in stormy anger. ‘Distrust must be your middle name, Alessandro.’

  The idea of him seeking independent scientific proof was a slap in the face.

  Especially as he’d been her only lover.

  His distrust tainted what they’d shared, reducing it to something tawdry. Her skin crawled as she met his glittering gaze and felt the weight of his doubt.

  His fiery green stare scorched her. ‘Better distrustful than gullible.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THREE days later Carys received a summons to the presidential suite. David, her manager, relayed the news with a quizzical look that made the blood rise hot in her cheeks.

  ‘Moving in exalted circles, Carys,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t hurry back.’

  She was aware of the other staff, watching surreptitiously as she pushed her chair back and stood up.

  Carys had been a bundle of nerves for the past few days, ever since Alessandro had pulled strings to have the DNA tests taken in the privacy of her flat. Another reminder, if she’d needed it, of his enormous wealth. His ability to get what he wanted.

  The technician had been friendly, talkative despite the marked silence between Carys and Alessandro. She’d seemed oblivious to the atmosphere laden with unspoken challenges and questions. Or maybe the woman was used to the high-octane emotions such circumstances engendered. After all, there’d be no need for mouth swabs and scientific proof if there was trust between a couple.

  If a man believed his lover.

  Sucking in her breath, Carys straightened her shoulders and took her time walking to the lift.

  Alessandro must have received advice from the pathology company. Surely that was why she’d been summoned. No doubt he’d paid for the privilege of getting an ultra-fast turnaround on the lab results.

  Her stomach cramped in anxiety.

  What would he do now that he knew Leo was his?

  The question had haunted her for days so that even when she finally slept, stress dreams plagued her. She woke feeling even more tired than when she went to bed.

  The butler was waiting at the door for her, his smile friendly but impersonal.

  Had he seen her desperate flight from the suite several days ago? Carys kept her chin high as she forced an answering smile to her lips and walked in.

  The lush quiet of the suite engulfed her. Its understated opulence showcased fine furnishings and every modern convenience provided just for one man. It had been designed for the mega-wealthy, the vastly important.

  No wonder she felt wretchedly small and nervous as she approached the silent man who dominated the room.

  He might fit in here, but she didn’t. Carys was completely, unalterably ordinary. Not by any stretch of the imagination could she be considered special. She’d faced that long ago, before Alessandro had tempted her for a brief, crazy time to believe in miracles.

  ‘Carys.’ The sound of his deep, slightly husky voice rippled like a sensual caress across her skin. Her reaction, her physical weakness for him, made her hackles rise.

  ‘Alessandro.’ She nodded. ‘You demanded my presence?’

  His head tilted slightly as he watched her, his look assessing but his face unreadable.

  ‘I requested your presence.’

  ‘Ah, but when the request comes from the presidential suite we staff tend to jump.’ For some reason she found safety in emphasising the huge gulf between them. As if she could magically erase the memory of the madness that had gripped them last time she was here.

  Her gaze flickered to the plump lounges, the wall where he’d held her and caressed her and almost…

  ‘Please, take a seat.’

  To her surprise, he gestured to an upright chair in front of an antique desk. Carys shot him a startled glance but complied. Better this than the intimacy of the sofas.

  It was only as she sat that she noticed the papers spread across the desk. ‘You’ve had the test results, then.’

  ‘I have.’

  Carys could read nothing in his voice or in his face. Was he disappointed, angry, excited to discover he had a son? Or, she thought with a sinking sensation, didn’t he feel anything at all?

  ‘Coffee, Robson. Or—’ Alessandro paused to catch her eye ‘—would you prefer tea?’

  ‘Nothing, thank you.’ The idea of swallowing anything made her stomach curdle.

  ‘That will be all, Robson.’ Alessandro waited till the butler left before he turned to her again.

  Instead of taking a chair, he lounged, arms crossed, against the desk. He was near enough for her to register his cologne. Her nerves reacted with a shimmy of excitement that made her grit her teeth in annoyance. She wished he’d move away. Far enough that she wasn’t plagued by remnants of the physical attraction that had been so strong between them.

  ‘What is it you want, Alessandro?’ After days of silence from him, now he expected her jump to do his bidding. It infuriated her.

  ‘We have arrangements to make. And you need to sign this.’ He waved a hand towards the paper on the desk then reached into his jacket pocket, eyes still holding hers. ‘You can use this when you’ve read it.’

  Casually he laid a gold fountain pen on the desk beside a wad of papers.

  Carys turned to face the desk. Not lab results after all. A quick look showed her long numbered paragraphs. Dense typescript. Pages and pages of legalese.

  Her heart sank. Just the sort of document she hated. She couldn’t deal with this while Alessandro stood so close.

  A flutter of panic flared in her breast and she reached out one clammy hand to flick through the wad. The last page had space for her signature and Alessandro’s.

  As the pages settled again, she tried to concentrate on the first paragraph, but one of the lines kept jumping sideways so she lost her place.

  Damn. Had she brought her glasses? She fumbled in her jacket pocket, aware of Alessandro’s silent scrutiny.

  ‘What is it you want me to sign?’

/>   His eyes blazed green fire as he watched her from his superior height. Did she imagine a hint of tension around his mouth? A faint tightness between his brows?

  ‘A prenuptial agreement.’

  ‘A what?’ Carys’ reading glasses slid from numb fingers as she swung round to face him.

  The sober light in his eyes told her she wasn’t hearing things.

  ‘An agreement setting out both parties’ entitlements—’

  ‘I know what a prenuptial agreement is.’ She dragged in a deep breath to fill her suddenly constricted lungs, her pulse racing jaggedly. ‘We don’t need one. It’s for people who plan to marry.’

  He smiled then. Not a grin. Not even a real smile. Just a brief quirk of the lips that might have signalled amusement or impatience or even annoyance.

  And still his eyes bored into her like lasers.

  ‘We need it, Carys.’ His words were crisp, clear and unmistakeable. ‘Because we’re getting married.’

  He reached out and stroked a finger down her cheek. Fire streaked across her skin and blasted through her hard won calm. ‘It’s the only possible course of action. You must have known we’d marry once I discovered the child is mine.’

  For an eternity the words hung between them. She stared up at him, lush mouth sagging, bright eyes stunned. Then, like the flick of a switch, animation returned.

  ‘The child has a name, damn you!’

  Carys jerked from his touch, catapulting from the chair and almost knocking it over in her haste. She stood defiant and furious, feet planted squarely and chest heaving.

  ‘Don’t you ever talk about Leo again as if he were some…some commodity!’

  Madonna mia! With her eyes flashing and high colour in her softly-rounded cheeks, energy radiating from her in angry waves, she was stunning. More than pretty. Or beautiful. Something far more profound.

  Enough almost to distract him from the important business of securing his child.

  Alessandro felt the drag of attraction in his belly, his limbs, his mind. It was the possessive hunger he’d felt for days but mixed with another sensation so deep-seated it rocked him where he stood.

  In that moment the careful logic that dictated his decision to marry faded. This was no longer about simple logic. The force that drove him was purely visceral.