Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections. Кейт Хьюит
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“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.
The car stopped while she tried to think of something to say, and the driver came to open the door. Silently, Nico ushered her into the obstetrician’s office, his fingers firm and burning in her back. His scent wrapped around her senses and made her throat ache with memories of their night together.
The girl on duty at the front desk didn’t even look up as they approached. She handed over a clipboard and told Tina to fill it out without ever once making eye contact.
“We are expected,” Nico said tightly, “and I am a busy man.”
The girl’s head snapped up, her eyes widening as she recognized the man standing before her. “Signore Gavretti—I mean, my lord—forgive me. Please come this way.”
From that moment on, things moved quickly. Tina was shown into an ultrasound room and made to disrobe. After the technician took images and dated the pregnancy, she dressed and went into the doctor’s office where Nico sat silently sending messages on his phone. A few moments later, the doctor arrived and talked to them about her health, the baby and what needed to happen every few weeks.
There would be regular ultrasounds, and at twenty weeks they would know the sex of the baby if they chose. There were vitamins to take, blood tests to have done and urine samples to give.
There were even classes to be taken, though she wasn’t sure that Nico would be coaching her through anything when it came to childbirth. And she wasn’t sure she wanted him to do so, either.
By the time they left the doctor’s office, Tina’s head was reeling. Instinctively, she put her hand over her still flat abdomen as if protecting the tiny life growing there.
A baby. She was truly having a baby, and she’d seen the little tiny lump on the screen for herself. Nico had seen it, too, but in the photo the doctor had handed to him in the office. He’d seemed a bit taken aback at first, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it, but there was no denying she was pregnant and no denying that the conception date coincided with the night they were together.
Now he was silent as they rode through the streets of Rome. Outside the car window, traffic screeched and honked, but inside it remained eerily quiet.
Eventually, she realized they were not heading in the direction of her hotel. Her heart began to beat a little harder as she turned to him.
“I’m tired, Nico. I want to go back to my hotel and pack.” She’d had a text message from Lucia, but she hadn’t yet answered it. Since her friend was unable to get together for dinner, it wasn’t crucial that she do so right away.
Nico’s