it.
The mood was different now, still tense but thick and heavy. She looked at his profile and saw that the drawbridge had been brought down on his anger and what he was thinking.
‘When did you buy this?’
‘Today,’ she answered. ‘Th-this afternoon.’
‘I thought we agreed that you would not risk making intimate purchases like this,’ he said with super-controlled cool.
A strained little laugh left her throat. ‘There was no one I could trust enough to get them to do it for me and I … needed to know.’
‘Did you?’
The odd way he said that brought her head up. ‘Of course— don’t you want to know?’
He did not answer. There was something very peculiar about the way he was standing there, tense and grim.
‘If you’re concerned that I’ve given the paparazzi something else about us to feed on, then I was careful,’ she assured him. ‘In fact,’ she said, sliding her feet to the floor, ‘you wanted to know what I did with my afternoon. Well, wandering round the shops trying to fool any followers into leaving me alone before I dared to buy the test was it.’
He said nothing. Rachel wished she knew what was going on in his head. Hurt was beginning to prick at her nerve endings. Didn’t he think this situation was difficult enough without him standing there resembling a block of stone? Was he scared in case they discovered she was pregnant and that sense of honour he liked to believe he possessed would require him to marry her when he didn’t want to?
Standing up, she went to take the package from him. ‘I’ll go and find out if it’s—’
His fingers closed around it. ‘No,’ he said gruffly.
Rachel just stared at his hard profile.
‘We—need to talk first,’ he added.
‘Talk about what?’ she said curtly. ‘If I am pregnant we will deal with it like grown-ups. If I’m not pregnant, then I go home.’
‘What do you mean, we deal with it like grown-ups?’ At last he swung round to look at her. His face was pale and taut.
Rachel sighed. ‘If I am pregnant I’m not marrying you, Raffaelle,’ she informed him wearily.
‘Why not—?’
Why not—? If she dared to do it without risking setting her queasy stomach off again—Rachel would have laughed. ‘Because you don’t want to marry me?’ she threw at him. ‘Because I can take care of myself and a child! And because I refuse to tie myself to a man who just loves to believe the worst of me!’ She heaved in a breath. ‘Do you want more—?’
‘Yes,’ he gritted.
She blinked, not expecting that response.
‘Okay.’ She folded her arms across her shaking body and looked at him coldly. ‘You don’t trust me. You think I am a liar and a cheat. I give you perhaps a couple of months held in marital captivity before you start questioning if the baby could be some other man’s.’
‘I am not that twisted!’ he defended that last accusation.
She put in a shrug. ‘Trapped by a child on purpose, then.’
‘We’ve been through that. I don’t think that!’
‘You’ve got your old lover already lined up ready to take my place.’
‘Francesca was not lined up for anything other than to get that photograph,’ he sighed out.
‘Well, guess what?’ Rachel said. ‘I don’t believe you.’
Now that was a twist in the proceedings, she saw, as he stared at her down the length of his arrogant nose. She made a grab at the package.
This time he let go of it.
On a shivering breath she turned and walked into the bathroom, then closed and locked the door.
By the time she came out again, she was stunned, shaken, totally hollowed out from the inside.
Raffaelle was standing by the window, his body tense inside his well-cut jacket. When he heard the door open he spun round, then went perfectly still.
‘Well—?’ he said harshly.
Rachel pressed her pale lips together and gave a shake of her head.
Tension sizzled. ‘Is that a no, as in you are not pregnant?’ he demanded.
Hands ice-cold and trembling where she clutched them together in front of her, Rachel nodded.
He moved—one of those short, sharp jerks of the body. ‘You have to be pregnant,’ she thought she heard him mutter beneath his breath. ‘Why did you feel sick—why the fainting?’ he asked hoarsely.
‘W-women’s stuff,’ she mumbled dully. ‘It—it’s like that sometimes.’ She added a shrug. ‘The real thing should h-happen any day now …’
Silence fell, one of those horrible awkward, don’t-know-what-to-say-next kind of silences that grabbed at the air and choked it to death.
Rachel couldn’t stand it. She was in shock. She wasn’t really functioning properly on any level. She’d been so sure that the answer to the test would come out positive, and if she did not find herself something practical to do she knew she was going to embarrass both of them by bursting out crying with sheer disappointment!
With no control at all over her trembling legs, she walked like a drunk towards the dressing room. ‘I’ll pack,’ she whispered.
‘What the hell for—?’ he raked out.
‘Time to call it quits, I think.’ She even added a flicker of a wobbly smile.
‘No,’ he ground out roughly. ‘I—don’t want you to go.’
White as a sheet, Rachel shook her head. ‘It might as well be now than next week—next month—’
‘No,’ he repeated.
‘But there’s no reason left for me to stay now!’
His wide shoulders squared. ‘Am I not a good enough reason?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Have our weeks together meant so little to you that you could just decide to leave me like this—?’
Stunned by the harsh husky agony in his tone, Rachel was further shocked to see how pale he looked.
Tears burst to life. ‘Raffaelle …’ she murmured pleadingly. ‘You know we only—’
‘No,’ he cut in on her yet again. ‘Don’t say my name like that—don’t look at me like that.’
‘But there is no baby!’
