power, an intrinsic physical magnetism that teased her senses and rendered them intensely vulnerable.
Her chin lifted fractionally, her eyes locking with his, and she caught the lurking cynicism evident, almost as if he guessed the path her thoughts had taken and was silently amused by their passage.
‘What if I refuse?’ Brave words, given his sheer strength and indomitable will.
‘Would you prefer an amicable discussion, or have me channel everything through my lawyers?’
His voice was deadly quiet, and she felt the cold clutch of fear.
‘This isn’t a convenient time.’ She was mad, insane to thwart him continually, yet she was damned if she’d meekly stand aside and allow him entry into the privacy of her apartment.
His expression hardened, the assemblage of muscle and bone tautening into a chilling mask depicting controlled anger. ‘You’ve just returned from delivering our daughter to a birthday party. How long before you need to collect her? An hour? Two?’
Sheer rage rushed to the surface, destroying any semblance of restraint. ‘You’ve had me watched—followed?’ Words momentarily failed her. ‘You bastard,’ she flung at last, sorely tempted to slam the door in his face, yet even as the thought occurred to her she negated the action as not only foolish but extremely dangerous.
For one infinitesimal second his eyes leapt with icy anger, then sharpened and became infinitely compelling as he raked her slender frame.
A shivery sensation feathered its way down the length of her spine as she fought against the intrinsic pull of his innate sexuality, and of its own volition her body seemed to flare into life as if ignited by some hidden combustible flame.
Seven years ago she’d gone willingly into his arms, his bed, and tasted every sensual delight in a sexual discovery that had set her on fire, enraptured by an ecstasy so acute that it hadn’t seemed possible such pleasure existed. A passionate lover, he’d teasingly dispensed with each and every one of her inhibitions, and taught her to become so in tune with her own sensual being that each time they made love it was a total conflagration of the senses.
To deny him access to her apartment would gain absolutely nothing, and, drawing in a deep breath, she gathered her scattered emotions together as she aimed for contrived politeness.
‘Please,’ Carly indicated as she gestured towards two sofas and a chair in the small lounge. ‘Sit down.’
Stefano chose to ignore the directive, and moved slowly across the room to examine a large frame containing a montage of small snapshots showing Ann-Marie in various stages of development from birth to as recently as a month ago.
A palpable silence filled the room until it enveloped everything. A silence so incredibly damning that it was almost tangible.
At long last he turned towards her, his eyes so remarkably dark that it was impossible to discern anything from his expression. ‘Why did you choose not to tell me you were pregnant?’ he began with deceptive softness.
Her throat felt impossibly dry, and so constricted that she doubted if her larynx could cope with emitting so much as a sound. ‘If I had, you would have hauled me back to Perth,’ she said at last.
‘Indeed,’ Stefano agreed. ‘And I wouldn’t now brand you a thief for stealing from me the first six years of my daughter’s life.’
‘If you’d had sufficient respect for our marriage, I wouldn’t have felt compelled to leave,’ she managed carefully. There was an inherent integrity apparent, a strength that came from deep within. ‘And rehashing the past has no relevance to Ann-Marie’s future.’
She could feel his anger emanating through the pores of his skin, and all her fine body hairs rose in protective self-defence. He could have shaken her to within an inch of her life, and taken extreme pleasure in her pain. It was there in his eyes, the tautly bunched muscles as he held himself rigidly in control. The promise of retribution was thinly veiled, and she felt immeasurably afraid, aware that such punishment would be swift and without warning—an utter devastation. But not yet, she reasoned shakily. A superb tactician, he would derive infinite satisfaction from playing out her fear.
‘You’ve reached a decision?’
Her heart stopped, then clamoured into a thudding beat. ‘Yes.’ One look at his hard, obdurate features was sufficient to ascertain his inflexibility.
‘Must I draw it from you like blood from stone?’ he pursued, his voice assuming a deadly softness, and her eyes flared with resentment.
‘I won’t allow Ann-Marie to be a metaphorical bone we fight over in a lawcourt,’ she said hardily. ‘Nor will I put her through the emotional trauma of being bandied back and forth between two parents.’ Her head lifted slightly and her chin tilted with determination. ‘However, I have one condition.’
One eyebrow slanted in silent cynicism. ‘And what is that?’
‘You give up your women friends.’
He looked at her for what seemed an age, and she was conscious of an elevated nervous tension as the silence between them stretched to an unbearable length.
‘Could you be more specific?’
‘Lovers,’ she said tightly, hating him.
‘Does that mean you are prepared to accommodate me in bed?’ he pursued with deadly softness.
Her heart stopped, then clamoured into a thudding beat at the memory his words evoked, and the nights when she’d behaved like a mindless wanton in his passionate embrace. With concentrated effort she managed to keep her gaze steady. ‘No, it doesn’t, damn you!’
Stefano remained silent, his eyes watchful as he witnessed the fleeting change of her emotions, then after a measurable silence he ventured silkily, ‘You expect me to remain celibate?’
Of its own volition, her hand lifted to her hair and eased a stray tendril behind on ear, the gesture unconscious and betraying her inner nervousness. ‘I’ll live in the same house,’ she declared quietly. ‘I’ll play at being your social hostess. For Ann-Marie’s sake, I’ll pretend everything between us is fine.’ Her eyes were wide, clear, and filled with resolution. ‘But I refuse to share your bed.’
The edge of his mouth lifted in a gesture of musing mockery. ‘I shall insist you share the same room.’
‘Why?’ Carly demanded baldly.
His eyes speared hers, their depths hard and inflexible. ‘Because I choose never to lose.’
‘Our marriage meant nothing to you!’
‘You think not?’ Stefano countered with unmatched cynicism. ‘I retain a clear memory of your…’ He paused imperceptibly, then added mockingly, ‘Contentment.’
‘You gave me beautiful things, put me in a beautiful home, took me out to beautiful parties where beautiful people mingled and made out they were friends.’ She felt incredibly sad. ‘Except nothing was beautiful. Not really. I was a new playmate, someone you could show off when the occasion demanded.’ Her eyes clouded, and her lashes fluttered down to form a protective veil. ‘I was too young,
