life because she wasn’t good enough for his aristocratic friends? To use her for temporary sex while he courted another woman?
Whatever had gone wrong between Alessandro and the principessa to prevent the marriage, that was exactly what he’d been up to.
Carys had simply been convenient, gullible, expendable.
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.’
