She’d faced that long ago, before Alessandro had tempted her for a brief, crazy time to believe in miracles.
‘Carys.’ The sound of his deep, slightly husky voice rippled like a sensual caress across her skin. Her reaction, her physical weakness for him, made her hackles rise.
‘Alessandro.’ She nodded. ‘You demanded my presence?’
His head tilted slightly as he watched her, his look assessing but his face unreadable.
‘I requested your presence.’
‘Ah, but when the request comes from the presidential suite we staff tend to jump.’ For some reason she found safety in emphasising the huge gulf between them. As if she could magically erase the memory of the madness that had gripped them last time she was here.
Her gaze flickered to the plump lounges, the wall where he’d held her and caressed her and almost…
‘Please, take a seat.’
To her surprise, he gestured to an upright chair in front of an antique desk. Carys shot him a startled glance but complied. Better this than the intimacy of the sofas.
It was only as she sat that she noticed the papers spread across the desk. ‘You’ve had the test results, then.’
‘I have.’
Carys could read nothing in his voice or in his face. Was he disappointed, angry, excited to discover he had a son? Or, she thought with a sinking sensation, didn’t he feel anything at all?
‘Coffee, Robson. Or—’ Alessandro paused to catch her eye ‘—would you prefer tea?’
‘Nothing, thank you.’ The idea of swallowing anything made her stomach curdle.
‘That will be all, Robson.’ Alessandro waited till the butler left before he turned to her again.
Instead of taking a chair, he lounged, arms crossed, against the desk. He was near enough for her to register his cologne. Her nerves reacted with a shimmy of excitement that made her grit her teeth in annoyance. She wished he’d move away. Far enough that she wasn’t plagued by remnants of the physical attraction that had been so strong between them.
‘What is it you want, Alessandro?’ After days of silence from him, now he expected her jump to do his bidding. It infuriated her.
‘We have arrangements to make. And you need to sign this.’ He waved a hand towards the paper on the desk then reached into his jacket pocket, eyes still holding hers. ‘You can use this when you’ve read it.’
Casually he laid a gold fountain pen on the desk beside a wad of papers.
Carys turned to face the desk. Not lab results after all. A quick look showed her long numbered paragraphs. Dense typescript. Pages and pages of legalese.
Her heart sank. Just the sort of document she hated. She couldn’t deal with this while Alessandro stood so close.
A flutter of panic flared in her breast and she reached out one clammy hand to flick through the wad. The last page had space for her signature and Alessandro’s.
As the pages settled again, she tried to concentrate on the first paragraph, but one of the lines kept jumping sideways so she lost her place.
Damn. Had she brought her glasses? She fumbled in her jacket pocket, aware of Alessandro’s silent scrutiny.
‘What is it you want me to sign?’
His eyes blazed green fire as he watched her from his superior height. Did she imagine a hint of tension around his mouth? A faint tightness between his brows?
‘A prenuptial agreement.’
‘A what?’ Carys’ reading glasses slid from numb fingers as she swung round to face him.
The sober light in his eyes told her she wasn’t hearing things.
‘An agreement setting out both parties’ entitlements—’
‘I know what a prenuptial agreement is.’ She dragged in a deep breath to fill her suddenly constricted lungs, her pulse racing jaggedly. ‘We don’t need one. It’s for people who plan to marry.’
He smiled then. Not a grin. Not even a real smile. Just a brief quirk of the lips that might have signalled amusement or impatience or even annoyance.
And still his eyes bored into her like lasers.
‘We need it, Carys.’ His words were crisp, clear and unmistakeable. ‘Because we’re getting married.’
He reached out and stroked a finger down her cheek. Fire streaked across her skin and blasted through her hard won calm. ‘It’s the only possible course of action. You must have known we’d marry once I discovered the child is mine.’
For an eternity the words hung between them. She stared up at him, lush mouth sagging, bright eyes stunned. Then, like the flick of a switch, animation returned.
‘The child has a name, damn you!’
Carys jerked from his touch, catapulting from the chair and almost knocking it over in her haste. She stood defiant and furious, feet planted squarely and chest heaving.
‘Don’t you ever talk about Leo again as if he were some…some commodity!’
Madonna mia! With her eyes flashing and high colour in her softly-rounded cheeks, energy radiating from her in angry waves, she was stunning. More than pretty. Or beautiful. Something far more profound.
Enough almost to distract him from the important business of securing his child.
Alessandro felt the drag of attraction in his belly, his limbs, his mind. It was the possessive hunger he’d felt for days but mixed with another sensation so deep-seated it rocked him where he stood.
In that moment the careful logic that dictated his decision to marry faded. This was no longer about simple logic. The force that drove him was purely visceral.
She would be his. He would accept no other alternative.
He would have Carys and his son. A wave of hot pleasure suffused him.
‘Of course he’s not a commodity. He’s Leonardo.’ Alessandro inclined his head, savouring the name. ‘Leo Mattani.’
An image of intelligent jade eyes, handsome dark hair and a small determined chin surfaced. His son.
His son!
Satisfaction and pride welled in his chest and—
‘No! Leo Wells, not Leo Mattani. And that won’t change. Marriage is a preposterous idea, so you can forget it.’ Carys took a step closer, her chin rising.
Once more a blast of white-hot hunger shot through him.
What a woman she was! So fiercely protective and proud.
And
