it was. The hidden question between them. She ran her finger around the rim of the glass. ‘I came here to forget,’ she said quietly, exposing more of herself than she meant.
Her other hand was on the bar. His slid over the top, intertwining his fingers with hers. ‘And so did I. Maybe there are other ways to forget.’
She licked her lips, almost scared to look up and meet his gaze again. It would be like answering the unspoken question. The one she was sure that she wanted to answer.
His thumb slid under her palm, tracing little circles. In most circumstances it would be calming. But here, and now, it was anything but calming; it was almost erotic.
‘Sienna, you have a few days left. Have you seen the mountains yet? How about I show you some of the hidden pleasures that we keep secret from the tourists?’
It was the way he said it. His voice was low and husky, sending a host of tiny shivers of expectation up her spine.
She could almost hear the voices of her friends in her head. She was always the sensible one. Always cautious. If she told this tale a few months later and told them she’d made her excuses and walked away...
The cocktail glass was glistening in the warm sunset. The chandelier hanging above the bar sending a myriad of coloured prisms of light around the room.
The perfect setting. The perfect place. The perfect man.
A whole host of distraction.
Exactly what she’d been looking for.
She threw back her head and tried to remember if she was wearing matching underwear. Not that it mattered. But somehow she wanted all her memories about this to be perfect.
She met his green gaze. There should be rules about eyes like that. Eyes that pulled you in and held you there, while all the time giving a mischievous hint of exactly what he was thinking.
She stood up from her bar stool and moved closer. His hand dropped from the bar to her hip. She brushed her lips against his ear. ‘How many of Montanari’s pleasures are hidden?’
There it was. The intent.
It didn’t matter that her perfect red dress was hanging in the cupboard upstairs. It didn’t matter that her matching lipstick was at the bottom of her bag. It didn’t matter that her most expensive perfume was in the bathroom in her room.
Mr Sex-on-Legs liked her just the way she was.
He closed his eyes for a second. This time his voice was almost a growl, as if he were bathing in what she’d just said. ‘I could listen to your accent all day.’
She put her hand on his shoulder. ‘How about you listen to it all night instead?’
And the deed was done.
SHE STARED AT the stick again.
Yep. The second line was still there.
It wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Just as the missing period wasn’t a dream and the tender breasts weren’t a sign of an ill-fitting bra.
A baby. She was going to have a baby.
She stared out of her house window.
Her mortgage. She’d just moved in here. Her mortgage was huge. As soon as she’d seen the house she’d loved it. It was totally too big for one person—how ironic was that?—but she’d figured she’d have the rest of her life to pay for it. It was five minutes from Teddy’s and had the most amazing garden with a pink cherry blossom tree at the bottom of it, and a little paved area at the back for sitting.
It was just like the house she’d dreamed of as a child. The house where she and her husband and children would stay and live happily ever after.
She sighed and put her head in her hands.
She was pregnant. Pregnant to Seb, the liar.
It made her insides twist and curl. She’d never quite worked out when he’d realised who she was, while she’d spent the weekend in blissful ignorance.
A weekend all the while holed up in the most beautiful mountain chalet-style house.
The days had been joyful. She’d never felt an attraction like it—immediate, powerful and totally irresistible. Seb had made her feel like the only woman in the world and for two days she’d relished it.
It was too good. Too perfect. She should have known. Because nobody could ever be that perfect. Not really.
She’d been surprised by his security outside the hotel. But then, lots of businessmen had bodyguards nowadays. It wasn’t quite so unusual as it could have been.
And she hadn’t seen any of the sights of Montanari. Once they’d reached his gorgeous house hidden in the mountains, the only thing she’d seen was his naked body.
For two whole days.
She squeezed her eyes closed for a second. It hurt to remember how much she’d loved it.
How many other woman had been given the same treatment?
She shook her head and shuddered. Finding out who he really was had ruined her memories of those two wonderful days.
Of those two wonderful nights...
She pressed her hand on her non-existent bump. Oh, wow. She was pregnant by a prince.
Prince Sebastian Falco of Montanari.
Some women might like that. Some women might think that was amazing. Right now she was wondering exactly why her contraceptive pill had failed. She’d taken it faithfully every day. She hadn’t been sick. She hadn’t forgotten. This wasn’t deliberate. This absolutely wasn’t a ploy to get pregnant by a prince. But what if he thought it was?
Her mind jumped back to her house. How much maternity leave would she get? How much maternity pay would she get—would it cover her mortgage? She’d used her savings as the deposit for the house—that, and the little extra she’d had left to update the bathroom and kitchen, meant her rainy-day fund was virtually empty.
She stood up and started pacing. Who would look after her baby when she returned to work? Would she be able to return to work? She had to. She was an independent woman. She loved her career. Having a baby didn’t mean giving up the job she loved.
She rested her hand against the wall of her sitting room. Maybe someone at the hospital could give her a recommendation for a childminder? The crèche at the hospital wouldn’t be able to cater for on-calls and late night emergency surgeries. She’d need someone ultra flexible. There was so much to think about. So much to organise.
She couldn’t concentrate. Her mind kept jumping from one thing to the other. Oh, no—was this the pregnancy brain that women complained about?
She couldn’t have that. She didn’t have time for
