was before.”
“Nothing has changed.”
“Everything has changed, if the baby is really mine.”
It took several seconds for the meaning of his words to sink in. Then her eyes went wide. “You think I would sleep with another man, then lie to you about it?”
Alessandro’s posture was so taut, he seemed like a statue. Like a stone. She could barely hear his voice as he said, “It happens.” His expression looked strange. “You might have gone back to the jewelry designer. Accidentally gotten pregnant, than decided to cash in.”
“Cash in?” she said incredulously. “Cash in how?”
He searched her gaze. “Do you swear you’re telling me the truth? The child is mine?”
“Of course the baby is yours! You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with in my whole life!”
“I want a paternity test.”
She stiffened. “What?”
“You heard me.”
The insult was almost too much to bear. “Forget it,” she whispered. “I’m not doing some stupid paternity test. If you trust me so little, if you believe I’d lie to you about something like this, then just forget it.”
Lilley’s body shook as she turned and walked away. Tears streamed down her face, blending with the rain. She was halfway across the empty lawn before he stopped her, and this time, the expression on his face had changed.
“I’m sorry, Lilley,” he said quietly. “I do know you. And you wouldn’t lie.”
Their eyes locked. She exhaled as the knots in her shoulders loosened. Then he spoke.
“Marry me.”
She heard the roar of her own heartbeat above the splatter of rain. “Is that a joke?”
His sensual lips curved upward. “I never joke, remember?”
Her head was spinning. She’d never expected him to propose, not in a million years, not in her most delusional dreams. “You … want to marry me?”
“Is that so surprising? What did you expect—that I’d kick you and our unborn child to the curb and merrily go and propose to another woman?”
Biting her lip, she looked up at the ruthless lines of his face. “Well … yes.”
“Then you don’t know me at all.”
“No,” she whispered. “I guess I don’t.” She felt dizzy and still a bit sick. She’d barely made it to Sonoma in Nadia’s old car without being sick, she’d been so nervous. And now he wanted to marry her? She licked her lips, feeling as though she might cry. “You want to help raise our baby?”
Alessandro’s jaw was tight. “I will protect you both. I will give the baby my name. It is my duty.”
Her heart, which had been soaring in blind hope, crashed to the ground. His duty? She exhaled. “You don’t need to marry me to be involved in our baby’s life.”
“Yes. I do.”
“Why?”
“Because it is necessary.”
“You’re old-fashioned.”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t love me!”
He folded his arms. “Irrelevant.”
“Not to me, it isn’t!” She exhaled, clenching her hands. “Listen, Alessandro, I’ll never try to keep you from seeing your child—”
“I know that you will not, once we are wed.”
“I’m not going to marry you!”
“Of course you will,” he said coldly.
She shook her head, causing wet tendrils to slap against her cheeks. “Be in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life? No thanks!”
“I understand. You still want your knight in shining armor.” He set his jaw. “But whatever either of us might have once planned for our lives is over. We are expecting a child. We will wed.”
“No—we would be miserable!”
“Miserable?” he said incredulously. “Don’t you understand? You will be my bride. A princess. Rich beyond your wildest dreams!”
“I don’t care—I don’t want it! Not when I know you don’t love me and never will!”
He grabbed her by the shoulders, his hands sliding against her wet skin. “You would deny our child a name out of some childish yearning for fairytale dreams?”
“It’s not childish.” She closed her eyes, which suddenly burned with tears that he’d used his knowledge of her heart against her. “You are cruel.”
“I am right,” he said grimly. “You have no reason to refuse me.” He paused. “I will even be faithful to you, Lilley.”
He spoke the words as if being faithful to her would require a huge sacrifice, practically more than any billionaire prince could bear. And it was probably true. “Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically, glaring at him. “But I have no interest in being your duty bride.”
“Your objection is to the word duty?” He narrowed his eyes. “What do you think marriage is?”
“Love. Friendship. Having each other’s backs. A poetic union of souls—”
His grip on her tightened. “And passion?” His voice became husky beneath the rain. “What of passion?”
Her heart fell to her sandals and back again. She felt his strength, his warmth, the irresistible pull of his power. Against her will, she craved him.
“It was good between us.” He ran his fingers lightly along her jawline, his thumb along her sensitive lower lip. His soft stroke caused a spark down her body that made her suck in her breath. “You know how it was.”
Memories shuddered through her of how it had felt when he’d made love to her. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples aching and tight. She swallowed. “It was a fling,” she breathed. “You said so yourself. I’m not the right woman to be your bride.”
“My assessment has changed.” He cupped her face. His eyes were dark with heat. “For the last month,” he whispered, “I’ve thought of nothing but having you in my bed.”
She licked her lips. “You—you have?”
“I told myself you deserved a man who could love you. But everything has changed. Only our child matters now.” His gaze fell to her lips. “But that’s a lie,” he said in a low voice. “That’s not the only reason
