The Italian's One-Night Love-Child (11 page)

‘I know you’re not asleep,’ Cristiano said conversationally,
‘and, whilst I appreciate that you finally accepted the fact that neither of us was going to sleep on the floor like teenagers at a rock festival, I still don’t like the pillow between us, so…’ he took the pillow and chucked it on the floor ‘…that’s much better. And now we need to talk.’ He rolled over onto his side and Bethany stifled a squeak as she felt the brush of bare skin against her. She was over on her side in a shot and facing him, although she could hardly make out his face.

‘Where are Dad’s pyjamas?’

‘On the floor. I’m in my boxers, though, so there’s no need to get your reinforced knickers in a twist.’

The silence settled between them and, with each passing second, Bethany could feel her nerves straining harder.

‘You do realise that we need to have a proper conversation, don’t you?’ Cristiano said calmly. ‘By which I mean a conversation without the hysterics.’ Fully aware of the full impact barrier she had erected between them by way of her pyjamas and determined not to be distracted, Cristiano was nevertheless aware that his body was riding roughshod over his intentions.

‘This isn’t a good place to have a conversation.’

‘No…? I thought that’s where all couples talked. In bed.’

‘We’re not a couple.’

‘Then define what we are, not forgetting that we’re engaged.’

Now that her eyes had fully adjusted to the lack of light in the bedroom, Bethany could see him more clearly and she could feel her whole body aching from the torture of being within inches of him. Her double bed might be big for one but it was reduced to the size of a handkerchief with Cristiano taking up more than half of it.

‘I wish you wouldn’t keep reminding me of that,’ she whispered.

‘Fine. Then I’ll change the topic. After all, I wouldn’t want to damage that fragile conscience of yours…so how do you feel about me asking you this…? How has your body changed?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Your body,’ Cristiano murmured huskily. ‘How’s it changed? I want to feel your stomach. I want to feel my baby.’ He reached out and slipped his hand underneath the unflattering checked long-sleeved top which was way too hot to wear to bed. ‘I think you’ll agree that I have a right…’

‘W
HAT
are you doing?’ Bethany emitted a little squeak of protest and tried to wriggle away from those long fingers but there was limited room to manoeuvre so she had to content herself with a pointless tussle with his hand.

‘You hide it well,’ Cristiano conceded as he felt the smooth, rounded swell of her stomach. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed before she had told him but, then again, he hadn’t been looking.

‘Don’t…’ Bethany drew in a shaky lungful of air, her body red-hot and aching as he continued to rub her stomach with the flat of his hand.

‘Don’t? But I have every right, wouldn’t you agree? I am, after all, the prodigal daddy-to-be, just returned from his dangerous stint in the depths of Africa.’

‘That’s not funny.’

‘No, you’re right. It’s not. Twenty-four hours ago, I was a man with no responsibility to anyone but himself…’ He removed his hand from her rounded belly, assailed by the magnitude of the situation.

‘Twenty-four hours ago you were a man who was speeding up here to lay into me for deceiving you!’

‘Little did I know the depth of the deceit.’

‘But you would never have sought me out if you hadn’t found out, would you, Cristiano?’ Was she hoping that he would contradict her? Her cheeks flamed angrily at the realisation that, yes, fool that she was, she
still
wanted to hear
something
that might indicate that she had been more than just a two week interlude in his busy schedule.

‘Did you expect me to?’

‘Of course not! So can you blame me for coming back here when I found out that I was pregnant? Can you blame me for not getting in touch with you to tell you the good news?’

‘I have no intention of being your accomplice in justifying yourself.’

‘You are so…
so superior
!’ She balled her hands into fists and gritted her teeth together to stop herself from shouting and bringing her parents flying into the bedroom.

‘If by that you mean that I’m upfront with people, then yes, I am.’

‘Haven’t you ever done something you shouldn’t have, Cristiano?’

‘Yes, I spent two weeks in Barbados with a woman I barely knew. In retrospect, you might say that that was one of my more spectacular mistakes.’

‘That’s a horrible thing to say!’

And Cristiano knew it. He also knew that it was a lie but damned if he was going to be the sort of loser who would ever confess that those stolen two weeks had been two of the best he could remember in a long time. Damned if he would give oxygen to that niggling voice in his head that was telling him that yes, he might very well have tried to contact her,
whatever the circumstances of her flight
. What sort of sad man would pursue a woman who had walked out on him? He absolutely refused to admit himself into that category.

‘I apologise. Unreservedly.’

‘Oh, well, that’s all right then.’ Bethany gave a strangled laugh under her breath. She lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, acutely aware of his steady breathing and the fact that his arm was only a couple of inches away from hers.

In the thick, dark silence Cristiano grudgingly smiled at her sniping response. Okay, so his life had been turned on its head. So had hers. Any other woman, faced with an enraged ex-lover, a man who had the wealth and power to move mountains, a man who had been tricked and conned, would have at least had the decency to be suitably humble. None of that with Bethany. Typically, she was fighting fire with fire and no amount of fighting was going to do any good.

‘So now that I have shown up on the scene, none the worse for malaria, famine or curare-tipped arrows, what do you intend to do with me?’

As he expected, a stunning silence greeted that question and he allowed that silence to stretch between them until he could
smell
her tension rising in waves.

‘Fortunately, I am prepared to do the decent thing.’

Bethany swung round to look at him in surprise. ‘Do the decent thing? What are you talking about?’

‘You are pregnant with my baby and I am a man of honour, a man who takes his responsibilities seriously. Naturally, I have no other option but to marry you.’

‘
Marry me? Have you completely lost your mind?’
Bethany gave a snort of laughter. Did he really expect her to leap at his generous offer because he was
a man of honour
, who
took his responsibilities seriously
and, boxed in as he now found himself, would therefore rise to the occasion by
putting a ring on her finger because there was no option
?

‘What are you saying?’ With one hand, Cristiano reached
to the side of the bed and flipped on the light. Immediately the tiny area around them was thrown into relief. He hoisted himself up on one elbow and looked down at her with a cold frown of incomprehension.

‘I’m
saying
…’ Bethany sat upright because it felt too weird conducting this conversation when she was horizontal ‘…that I’m not going to marry you! This isn’t the nineteenth century, Cristiano!’

‘Well, it’s not far off, considering you felt obliged to fabricate an imaginary fiancé for your parents so that you could return here, pregnant!’ He was finding it hard to credit that she had just thrown his proposal back in his face! As far as he was concerned, he was one in a million!

‘Fabricating an imaginary fiancé is a far cry from walking down the aisle with a man who doesn’t even like me!’

‘It is pointless bringing emotions into this.’

‘What do you mean,
pointless
?’

‘Keep your voice down or your parents will be running in here to see what the hell is going on!’

Bethany counted to ten, very slowly. ‘Okay. I’m going to keep my voice down because I don’t want to create a scene and have Mum and Dad worrying, but I’m not going to marry you, Cristiano. Not in a million years. It might have been stupid for us…not to have been as careful as we should have been, but it would be even more stupid for us to sacrifice our lives for the sake of this baby.’

Eyes blazing, Cristiano flung himself out of the bed and walked across to the window, a vision of semi-naked masculine beauty which drew Bethany’s eyes like a magnet.

‘I have no idea why you’re so taken aback,’ she informed his erect back. ‘Most women would have leapt at your offer and where would that have left you? Trapped in a marriage which would become a cage for you…for both of us…’ He
was a man with a strong libido and it didn’t take a genius to work out that two and two would inevitably lead to four. He had no feelings for her and it wouldn’t be long before he would stray. She would be no more than the mother of his child, to whom fidelity would hold no outstanding advantages.

‘So what,’ Cristiano said in a soft voice, ‘do you suggest?’ He felt it was important to maintain a practical note to the conversation but it was taking every ounce of self discipline not to give way to his temper. Virtually as soon as he had known of the situation, he had been aware of what had to be done and he was shocked that his offer of marriage had met with a negative response. She obviously wasn’t thinking straight and, whilst he might have been inclined to put that down to hormones, which apparently affected some women during pregnancy, he was forced to conclude that her mind did not work in the same way as his. Nor, for that matter, did it work in the same way as most of the human race, or at least most of the female contingent. She had been spot on when she had remarked that most women would have leapt at his offer.

Bethany couldn’t help it. She felt a thread of disappointment snake through her at his ready acceptance of an alternative plan. Had he only proposed marriage as a way of clearing his conscience? Decent guy, duty done, offer rejected so time to move on. She could practically hear his sigh of relief whipping through the air between them.

‘Well, you’ll have to stay a day or two, I guess. Or it might look a bit odd…’

Cristiano folded his arms and inclined his head to one side. It was in his nature to contradict the stupidity of what she was saying but he was also sharp enough to know that jumping in with his opinions would only provoke yet another bout of high drama and her immediate stubborn retreat.

Bethany licked her lips and looked to him for some verbal encouragement. Finding none, she continued slowly, ‘Then you’d have to return to London…you know, because you can’t very well stay here for ever…My parents know that you’re a businessman, first and foremost…’

‘And where do you fit in to this neat little picture?’

‘I’d stay here, of course.’

‘Why of course? Wouldn’t your parents think it a bit strange that you remain behind?’ There were more holes in her story than a colander and he had to fight down the sarcasm which threatened to spill out.

‘I could always tell them that it would just be more…reassuring for me to have them around, seeing that your business takes you all over the world. At a moment’s notice.’

‘I thought I’d already made it clear that there were no more
projects
?’

‘Well, you
do
travel, don’t you?’ Bethany said irritably. ‘Why can’t you help me out here? Can’t you see that I’m just trying to do what’s right for both of us?’

‘I think it’s time we both got some sleep.’

He began walking back towards the bed and she followed his movements with restless, anxious eyes.

‘But we haven’t sorted out anything.’

‘I’m tired. I’m going to sleep. Feel free to let that fertile little imagination of yours run riot with suggestions as to what the next step should be.’ He got into the bed, turned on his side with his back to her and ignored her frantic scrabbling movements as she tried to wrest some of the quilt for herself.

Five minutes later and Bethany could hear the soft breathing of a man who had succumbed to sleep. It took her an hour before she felt her own eyelids begin to droop, during which time she had developed serious stiffness in her arms and legs from trying to remain as still as she possibly could.

The next time she opened her eyes, it was to find herself face to face with Cristiano, their noses practically touching. In the course of sleep, they had somehow become entwined. Her leg had managed to insert itself between his thighs and his arm was flung round her.

His eyes were closed and his face was all hard angles barely visible in the darkness. Like a thief, she stole the opportunity to look at him. He couldn’t see her. She could linger on his face, allow herself to express her feelings with her guard down.

She wanted to reach out and trace the contours of his mouth and eyes and nose. She used to do that when they were lovers. He had found it amusing, the way she would stare at him as though he was the most riveting man on the face of the earth. She had never, ever seen anyone as beautiful as him.

She was going through a mental checklist of all the things she found so attractive about the way he was put together when he opened his eyes. Fast asleep one minute. Wideeyed and alert the next. Bethany gave a little gasp and tried to pull away but he snuggled up against her, drawing her against his body.

‘You’re awake!’ she whispered accusingly and Cristiano grinned.

He laced his fingers through her tumbled hair and brought her closer against him. She was no longer making a show of trying to wriggle away, he noticed. He hadn’t realised how quiet it was out here in the depths of the countryside. He was accustomed to the constant undercurrent of noise, even in the early hours of the morning. It was so still that he could hear her jerky breathing.

His arousal was fast and hard and he knew the very instant she became aware of it by her soft whimper. Even though
he had only spent a little over a fortnight in her company, it had been an intense experience and he seemed to be able to read her tiniest little reactions. Like the way she had shifted her body fractionally, getting just a tiny bit closer to him. He was surprised to find that he was holding his breath, not wanting to splinter the moment.

‘I missed you,’ he confessed roughly. ‘You left and I couldn’t get you out of my head.’

Bethany felt as though a gust of air had whipped her up and carried her off to cloud nine. She sighed and squirmed and closed her eyes and threw her head back with a little moan as his hand circled her stomach, retracing the gentle, tentative exploration he had begun earlier but this time extending it to include her breasts.

‘I thought about touching you a thousand times.’ Cristiano cupped one of her breasts in his hand, feeling its enlarged weight. ‘Your breasts have grown.’

‘Yes,’ Bethany said in a strangled voice.

‘Your nipples will have grown too. Have they? Become larger?’

‘Cristiano…’ His words made her pulses race. She felt like someone caught in the grip of a fever. No, caught in a raging inferno, one that had been sparked the minute he had walked through the front door.

‘Shh…’ He leant over her and her mouth parted to receive his questing tongue. His kiss became deeper, more urgent and, as she felt him throb against her, she frantically wanted to rid herself of the crazy toe to neck barrier of her flannelette pyjamas, which she had worn in an attempt to stifle her sexuality.

‘I want to see you,’ Cristiano told her in a hoarse voice. He didn’t give her time to answer. She was soft and compliant and he didn’t want to give her the slightest opportunity
to gather herself into attack mode. He pushed up the long sleeved top and lost himself in wordless appreciation of her breasts.

He wondered how he could have deluded himself into thinking that his life would slot back to normality the minute he returned to London.
This
had been on his mind for months and he couldn’t get enough of her. What was it with this woman? She made him lose control and he abandoned the struggle to resurrect it.

Instead, he grazed his tongue over her pouting nipples, bigger and darker than before. Her body was preparing itself for the birth of their baby and the thought of that was a massive turn-on. His mouth replaced his tongue as he sucked on one nipple, pulling it into his mouth and enjoying the way she was shivering and shuddering underneath him. One hand cupped her breast and the other wandered down, curving over her stomach, which had been practically invisible when she had been decked out in her oversized camouflage gear but was decidedly round and plump when bared. He slipped his hand beneath the elasticated waistband of the pyjamas, moving lower still.