Revelations of the Night Before (3 page)

She turned her head to meet his hot gaze, and her belly clenched. It was a different sensation than the one where the baby played havoc with her body. This tightening was a feeling that happened whenever she looked at this man. Only at this man. It was startling and disturbing all at once.

“Don’t you suppose that if I’d been waiting for you, I’d have gone about the whole thing differently? I’m pretty sure that hiding on the dock like a frightened, nearly sick child isn’t exactly the way to attract a man.”

“And yet it worked,” he said coldly.

Tina sat up straight, fury vibrating through her. “Look, if you want to believe this is all a ruse, that I’m lying or that I set you up, then fine, believe it. But don’t sit here and bother me with your theories, okay? I told you what I thought you should know, and now I’m done. I don’t want anything from you, Nico. I don’t expect anything. I just thought you might like to know your child.”

She started to rise, but he clamped a hand around her wrist and kept her on the bench. His fingers were long and strong, and his touch sent a jolt of energy radiating through her body. She jerked her wrist away and folded her arms over her midsection.

He bent closer to her until only she could hear the hard words coming from his lips. “
If
you are carrying my child, Valentina, I will be involved in his life. I refuse to pay child support and only see him whenever you allow it, or whenever the courts dictate. If you are carrying my child, then
you
are mine, as well.”

His eyes were stormy gray pools that slid deep into her soul and tore at her facade of calm. Her instinct was
to recoil, but she didn’t. She hadn’t lived through boarding school, and the blue-blooded girls—girls from families like his—who’d thought they were far better than she was, to cave in whenever a man glared at her and told her how he believed things were going to be done.

When met with icy disdain, she returned icy disdain.

She shouldered her purse and stood. This time he did not try to stop her. It was a comfort to be able to gaze down at him, but she realized it was a false comfort. He was as dangerous as always, as tightly leashed and volatile as a stick of dynamite.

And she was about to light the fuse.

“You don’t own me, Nico. If you want to be involved, we’ll work something out. I want our baby to know his—or
her
—father. You both deserve that. And I want you to be in our baby’s life. But I won’t be part of the game between you and Renzo. I refuse to be.”

The fuse sparked and caught. His smile was cold and lethal, and she shivered deep inside. He lived for this, she thought. Lived for mayhem and challenge. It was why he rode the motorcycles at death-defying speeds, why he slept his way through the phone book without remorse, and why he was not about to back down now.

She’d lit the fuse, but the explosion would be a long time coming. And it frightened her.

“Too late,
cara
,” he said silkily. “You already are.”

T
HEY
sat inside a hotel restaurant facing the Pantheon and Tina stared at the crowds milling in the square. People with cameras, backpacks and books strolled around with their chins in the air, their necks craned to take in the ancient structure.
A
horse and carriage sat nearby, waiting to take tourists willing to part with their money on a short ride to the next attraction.

They looked happy, she thought wistfully. Happy people seeing the sights while she sat inside the crowded hotel at a table beside the window and waited for someone to bring her a bowl of soup.

Nico sat across from her, his big body sprawled elegantly in the chair, his phone to his ear. She’d tried to walk out on him, but she’d not gotten far before she’d had to stop and lean against a column for a moment.

And he was there, his fingers closing around her arm, holding her up, pulling her into the curve of his body. Then he’d demanded to know what she’d eaten that day. When she’d said only a biscuit or two, he’d hauled her over to this restaurant and plunked her down at the table before ordering soup, bread and
acqua minerale
.

He finished his call and picked up his coffee in a long-fingered hand while she resolutely looked away. She didn’t want to study the beauty of those fingers,
didn’t want to remember them on her body, the way they’d stroked her so softly and sensually, the way they’d awakened sensations inside her that she’d never quite felt before.

Everything about being with Nico had been a revelation. As much as she wished she could forget the whole thing, she could in fact forget nothing. Worse, she wanted to experience it all again.

The soup arrived and she found that she was starving. After a few careful bites, she ate with more gusto than she’d been able to enjoy for days now. She didn’t know if the soup would stay down, but eating was preferable to talking to Nico right now.

She could feel him watching her. Finally, she looked up and caught him studying her as if he were really seeing her for the first time. It disconcerted her.

She dropped the spoon and sat back. “Is there a problem?” she snapped. The words shocked her since she didn’t usually seek confrontation as she couldn’t bear to have anyone angry with her.

And yet she found she did not care when it came to this man. He was already angry with her. What did it matter if she challenged him? It would change nothing about the way he sat there smoldering with fury.

And blistering sex appeal. She couldn’t forget the sex appeal.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said smoothly, and she felt angry color rising in her cheeks. He was baiting her and she was falling for it every time. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut and let him smolder?

Hard on the heels of anger came fear. It surprised her. But it was a cold fear that wrapped around her throat and squeezed as she considered all the implications of what had happened between them.

Why had she told him about the baby? She should have kept silent. It wouldn’t have truly hurt her baby not to know its father just as it hadn’t hurt her. And her family would be safe from this man’s fury.

Because he was furious, she was certain. Coldly furious. And calculating. She had no idea what he was capable of, but she feared it. He was not the same person he’d been when she’d idolized him as a teen.

“I appreciate the lunch,” she said, pushing her chair back, “but I’m afraid I have to go now.”

He watched her almost indolently. She wasn’t fooled. He was like a great cat lounging in the sun, one minute content, the next springing to life to bring down a gazelle.

“You aren’t going anywhere, Valentina.” He spoke mildly, but again she was reminded of the cat. He was toying with her.

She thrust her chin out. “You can’t stop me.”

His eyes gleamed in the light streaming in from the window. “I already have.” He motioned to the waiter, and then took out a credit card and handed it to the man when he arrived with the bill.

Tina sucked in a deep breath and tried not to panic. She was not this man’s prisoner. She could get up and walk out of this restaurant and there was nothing he could do to stop her. He didn’t own her in any way, nor would he.

Tina grabbed her purse and headed for the exit. She didn’t run, but she was very aware of what was happening behind her. Nico didn’t say a word, his chair didn’t scrape the floor, and she breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t following her. She burst into the open, the sunlight lasering into her eyes as the noise from the square assaulted her.

She turned and walked blindly, not caring where she went so long as Nico did not follow. This time, she would escape him. She would return to the hotel soon enough, but for now she just wanted to get lost in the crowds. He did not own her, no matter what he said. She repeated it over and over to herself as she walked down the cobbled streets, dodging tourists with cameras who weren’t paying attention to where they were going, and men who hooted and whistled at her.

These were not the middle ages; women had babies on their own all the time. She did not need a man in her life, and she certainly didn’t need that one. He could not compel her to do anything she did not want to do.

Tina walked until she found herself crossing a busy street, and then she was among the pedestrians again, walking alongside booths that had designer knock-off purses, scarves, bottle openers, and miniature Colosseums and Pantheons among their wares. The pedestrian traffic grew heavier the farther she went, and then the sound of rushing water came to her ears. A few steps more and she stood in front of the massive facade of the Trevi Fountain. She clutched her purse tightly to her body as she navigated the crowd and made her way down to the foot of the fountain.

Water gushed from below the feet of Neptune, over the troughs below the horses, and into the vast bowl of the fountain. Tina stood there with her heart aching. People laughed and took pictures of each other. A smiling couple held hands and then threw a coin into the water together. Impulsively, Tina dug a coin from her purse and gripped it hard enough so that the smooth round edge imprinted into her palm. Then she closed her eyes and said her wish to herself before she threw it into the water.

She wished that Nico would leave her alone, and that Renzo would never find out who had fathered her baby.
Too late
, a voice in her head told her.
If you’d wanted that, you never should have told him
.

She stood there a few minutes more before she turned to climb back up the steps as people jostled for position. She came to an abrupt stop when she looked up and realized who stood at the top, waiting for her.

So much for wishes.

He was silhouetted against the purpling sky, his dark form drawing more eyes than just hers. Tina’s heart skipped a beat as she gazed up into that beautiful dark face. His hands were in his pockets. He looked, for the barest of moments,
lonely
.

But that could not be right. Niccolo Gavretti was not the kind of man who would ever be lonely. He was wealthy, titled and gorgeous. And, as she knew from experience, a sensual and amazing lover.

He was the last person in the world who should ever be lonely.

He held out a hand to her, beckoning her. She took the last few steps, reluctantly placing her hand in his as she neared the top. He steadied her over the last step and then she was standing beside him, her purse clasped to her chest like a shield.

As if anything could protect her from him.

“I’ve made an appointment with one of the city’s top obstetricians, unless you have a doctor you prefer.”

She shook her head, suddenly defeated. If she ran, he would follow, and if she fought, he would fight back. He was a force to be reckoned with, and she did not truly want to fight him. That was not how she wished her relationship with the father of her baby to be. If she
had a hope of staving off trouble, she would go with him. For now.

Nico put a hand in her back and guided her through the crowd until they popped out onto a street nearby. A dark Mercedes sat with the engine idling, and when they approached it a man got out and opened the door for them.

Once they were inside, the doors closed and they were soon moving through traffic. The glass was up between the driver and them, and there was nothing but silence in the rich interior of the car.

“Now would be a good time to show me the scar,” Nico said at last.

“I’m not sure I want to,” she said softly. “I think I liked it better when you thought I was lying.”

The leather squeaked as he turned toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you, Valentina.”

“Or my family,” she added firmly. Because she realized now that it was a very real possibility he would go after Renzo somehow. She had seriously underestimated the depth of his hatred for her brother—and Renzo’s for him.

There was silence for a moment. “I can’t promise that.”

Her heart felt pinched in her chest. She pictured Renzo with Faith and their son, and it killed her to think that she could be responsible for causing them trouble. “I will do as you ask, without complaint, so long as you leave Renzo out of this.”

He studied her for a long moment. “I’m still not positive he doesn’t have something to do with this situation. Why would I leave him out of it?”

This is your fault
.

Yes, it was her fault. Anger began to swell inside her
again, crowding out the despair, glowing and expanding until she thought she would burst with it, until her skin was on fire from trying to contain it all.
Men!

“I love my brother, but if you think for one moment I would agree to some scheme that involved me getting pregnant just so he could get back at you somehow, then you
are
insane! What woman in her right mind would let her body be used like that for the express purpose of revenge? I have no idea what happened between you, but no one died so I’m pretty certain it wasn’t that bad. What you’re suggesting is disgusting.

“And not only that,” she added when he didn’t say anything, “I think the two of you are pigheaded and foolish for allowing this to continue all these years. It’s childish to have a
mortal enemy
. No one has mortal enemies these days.”

“Rich men do,” he said, but for once his voice wasn’t harsh or hard or angry.

Tina folded her arms against her body. “I doubt it’s that bad. I simply think you make it so.”

“What an innocent life you’ve led,” he replied, and a current of old shame flooded her.

Yes, she’d been naive for far too long. She’d grown up sheltered, pampered and scared to say boo. Boarding school, and then university, had done much to erode her shyness—but at heart she was still that girl who hid behind her hair and feared the world.

Except that she refused to show that fear. To anyone. She put a hand over her belly. She had to be strong now, no matter what. No matter that she was scared. No matter that she quaked inside at the thought of what she’d done to her family.

“If by ‘innocent’ you mean that I fail to see the need to harm others, then fine, call me innocent.”

He made a soft noise of disbelief. “In business, my dear, you must always be willing to be ruthless. It’s the only way to survive and thrive.”

“And yet it’s not necessary in one’s personal life, is it? Any man who is ruthless in his personal life will soon find himself alone.”

“Perhaps it’s not so bad to be alone,” he said. “Able to choose when you share your life and bed with someone, and able to go home again when you’re tired of the work that being with another person takes.”

“It sounds like an empty life,” she said sadly.

His jaw tightened only slightly, but she knew she’d scored a hit. What she didn’t know was why. She’d spent the past few years reading about him in the papers, and he seemed anything but lonely or empty. Yet he reacted to her words as if he had been. It made her wonder what he kept hidden from the world.

“Show me the scar,” he commanded her, and her feelings of empathy dissolved like smoke.

Tina clenched her teeth together. She wanted to refuse, but what was the point? She
was
pregnant with his child. She’d started this ball rolling down the hill and she had no choice but to go along for the ride.

Angrily, she ripped her shirt from her jeans and shoved the waistband down just enough for him to see the short scar running diagonally across her lower abdomen. She heard his breath hiss in, and then his fingertips slid along her skin, tracing the edges.

Tina went utterly still while inside her body sizzled and sparked like fireworks on New Year’s Eve. Flame followed in the wake of his fingers, and pain, as well. Not from the scar—it was too old to hurt—but from the strength of the need that took up residence in her core and refused to abate.

Nico looked up then, his eyes reflecting the same heat that she knew must be in her own. With a strength of will she would have never guessed she possessed, she pushed his hand away and hastily tucked her shirt back in. Her cheeks were hot, and she refused to look at him.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. When he did, his voice was more tender than she’d expected it to be.

“It was you.”

Tina realized that tears were pricking her eyes. She looked up at him, uncaring if he saw the emotion written on her face.

“I wish it hadn’t been,” she told him truthfully. Once, she’d fantasized about him, when she’d been young and naive and didn’t know what making love meant. She’d wanted him to fall in love with her, to kiss her and marry her and think she was the most beautiful woman alive—that’s all she knew when she’d been a teenager, but it had been her happy fantasy for at least a year. And then, once he’d gone away, she’d continued to dream about him.

Yes, she’d wanted him, but not like this. Not with this kind of animosity and mistrust. What had happened between them in Venice, beautiful though it might have been, was a mistake.

His lips thinned, the corners of his mouth white with suppressed anger. Though they were true, she wished she could take back the words, if only to try and rebuild whatever fragile peace they might have made, but it was too late.