of their surveillance or their orders to keep her safe. Yet still Alessandro felt the weight of guilt. It was his fault she’d fled.
He should have controlled himself and conquered his animal instincts. Yet he’d been unable to comprehend anything but the need to possess her.
Alessandro scrubbed his palm over his face again, grimacing. He couldn’t remember ever acting with less forethought. He’d been like a starving man set before a banquet, unable to summon even a shred of restraint.
Was he always like that with her?
The question tantalised him. The frustration of not knowing ate like acid into his gut.
He was so close, and still the answers eluded him.
A discreet ringtone interrupted his thoughts and he drew his cellphone from his pocket.
It was Bruno, head of his security team, reporting on Carys’ movements this morning. Alessandro froze into immobility at the report, delivered in a carefully uninflected tone.
Eventually he roused himself enough to issue a few more orders. Then he took the phone from his ear and waited for the image Bruno was sending.
There it was. A little blurry with movement, but unmistakeable. Carys Wells, in a familiar dark suit and not a hair out of place. But what held Alessandro’s attention wasn’t his erstwhile lover. It was the burden she carried in her arms.
Small, rounded, riveting his attention.
A baby.
Carys had a child.
The air purged from Alessandro’s lungs in a hiss of disbelief. His jaw tightened so hard his head began to throb as he stared at the image before him.
Whose child? The boyfriend from whom she’d been separated? Some other man? A long-term lover or a passing stranger?
Pain roused him from his turbulent thoughts. Alessandro looked down to discover he’d grasped the railing so hard the decorative ironwork had drawn blood on the fleshy part of his palm.
Dispassionately he stared at the welling redness, then back at the picture of Carys and her child.
Only then did Alessandro recognise the emotion surging so high it threatened to choke him. Fury. Raw sizzling wrath that she’d been with another man.
It didn’t matter how or why they’d separated. Every instinct screamed that Carys belonged to him. Could it be any clearer after the way they’d been together? The intensity of their passion made every other liaison pale into insignificance.
He’d come seeking answers. Last night he’d discovered answers weren’t enough. He wanted Carys too, for as long as the attraction between them held.
Looking at her holding another man’s child in her arms sent spears of flame through his chest and gut.
The sight should have cured him of his lust.
Instead he felt a burning desire to discover the identity of the man who’d fathered Carys’ baby and mash him into a pulp with his bare hands.
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