The Italian's Secret Baby (18 page)

‘I know you must hate me at the moment,' she said, studying the polished floor. Her hair fell forward, the glossy bangs hiding her face and exposing the nape of her neck.

His piercing glance touched the top of her bowed glossy head. His mouth twisted. ‘Do I?'

‘And I don't blame you,' she hastened to add. ‘But I really hope that later on when things are less…
raw
you'll be able to see…It was wrong not to tell you, very wrong—I can see that now.'

‘Why tell me now, Scarlet?' Roman demanded, dragging a hand through his dark hair.

‘Because I heard your father. I couldn't let him talk to you like that. I couldn't let you take the blame for something when you were innocent.'

‘Why not?'

She shook her head. ‘I just couldn't.'

‘It hadn't bothered you up to that point,' he reminded her. ‘You let me…hell, you
listened
and were incredibly supportive to me while I beat myself up, and you didn't say a word. Not one bloody word,' he reiterated in disbelief. ‘Did it give you some sort of kick to see me eaten up with guilt?'

Unable to bear the anger in his dark, hostile eyes, she looked away.

‘Well, did it?' he demanded harshly.

Scarlet looked up and, numb with misery, shook her head.

The sight of the tears rolling down her cheeks seemed to inflame him even farther. ‘And there was me unable to believe how you could be so generous in forgiving me.'

Scarlet bit her lips and his lips twisted into a smile that was so bitter and bleak it made her wince. Those same lips had kissed her so beautifully, with such passion, with such tenderness.

‘Wondering,' he continued in a voice that throbbed with bitter self-derision, ‘what I did to deserve someone so charitable and sweet.'

A strangled sob escaped her lips before she pressed her hand over her mouth.

Roman watched her chin fall to her chest in an attitude of abject misery and his dark features contorted. Scarlet didn't see that or the hand he had stretched out towards her before letting it fall.

‘Hell!' he ejaculated rawly as he began to restively pace up and down the room. At the far end of the room he twisted back to face her.
‘You must hate me.'

Scarlet blinked away the hot tears that filled her eyes, her throat felt so emotionally tight she could hardly breathe. She shook her head in denial.

‘I love you, Roman.'

He stopped dead.

‘I wanted to tell you about Abby.'

‘But you managed to stop yourself,' he cut back with dark irony.

‘I couldn't tell you what Abby did without—'

‘Speaking ill of the dead?' He shook his head. ‘That doesn't work.'

‘But it's the truth,' she protested feebly. ‘At first I didn't think there was any point telling you. Later I wanted to protect you from the truth, and I was worried that, if you knew, you might not feel the same way about Sam.'

‘Protect me?'

Head bowed, she didn't look at him. ‘I'll explain to your parents that this is my fault. At least you didn't send out the invitations this time.'

‘What the hell are you talking about?' he snarled.

‘Well, obviously we can't get married now, not even for Sam.' He was never going to forgive her. Later she would feel regret and pain; right now she felt numb. It was a blessing really.

‘I was never marrying you for Sam.'

Her head lifted and what she saw in his face made her heart thud.

‘When you said that you loved me, Roman, did you mean it?'

He stilled.
‘Love you?'
His eyes closed and he drew a deep shuddering breath.

‘Or maybe you did,' she put in quickly—she didn't want to hear him say anything that would spoil that brief perfect moment when she had thought he loved her. ‘But now you don't—?'

His eyes opened. ‘You don't switch off love like a tap.'

She blinked in bewilderment. ‘But you despise me, you'll never forgive me.'

‘Do I look that much of a fool?' he demanded, sweeping a strong hand through his dark hair. ‘No, don't answer that, I know I do. I…I say things when I'm angry,' he revealed awkwardly. ‘I was totally unprepared to hear what you had to say. It's not an ego-enhancing thing to learn that you were used as breeding stock.'

‘I know.'

‘I'm perfectly aware that you were in an impossible position,' he admitted.

‘I should have told you.'

He shrugged. ‘It wasn't the fact you didn't tell me that made me so angry,' he revealed. ‘It was the fact you thought you
couldn't
tell me, the fact that you thought anything could change the way I feel about Sam.'

‘I'm sorry,' she whispered.

A sudden grin spread across his face as he crossed the room to her, his long legs covering the space in two seconds flat. He took her face between his hands.

‘Don't do humble, Scarlet; it doesn't suit you.'

‘You're not angry with me?'

He shook his head. ‘It's not like I haven't been guilty of my share of economy in the truth department. I'm capable of cynical manipulation.'

‘Who were you manipulating?'

‘You,' he admitted. ‘I asked you to marry me because of Sam. I calculated that you were more likely to say yes if I played the happy family card, rather than admit the truth.'

Scarlet ran a finger down the thin white line on his cheek and felt his big body shudder. With a muffled groan he caught her hand and pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the palm.

‘What was the truth, Roman?' she whispered huskily.

His lips lifted from her skin, but he retained her hand, rubbing it up and down his jaw. She could feel the prickle of the dark shadowy stubble.

‘The truth is I had fallen in love with you, my brave, bolshy and absolutely beautiful Scarlet.' The light of undisguised adoration in his face sent a thrill of wonder through her body. ‘I have been half off my head, unable to think about anything else,' he admitted rawly.

‘I never guessed!'

‘Dear God, I thought I was being obvious enough. Do you actually think I'd travel on a ferry for anyone but you?'

A small gurgle of laughter left her lips before her expression grew grave. ‘You miscalculated, Roman.'

His wary eyes scanned her solemn face.
‘I did?'

‘The truth would have been much more effective,' she told him simply.

With a smile of fierce relief he drew her to him. He kissed her with a hunger and desperation that made her senses spin.

‘I think we should make it a rule to tell each other the truth in future,' he said when his mouth finally lifted.

‘But we can tell the odd white lie to other people?'

‘Did you have something specific in mind,
cara
?'

‘Well, would it be so bad if we made up a little excuse for not going back downstairs straight away?' she wondered with an innocent smile.

‘I never need an excuse to make love to my woman,' he declared with breath-taking arrogance. ‘And, in addition, in Italy it is common practice to retire into a darkened room in the middle of the day. Siesta is a very civilised custom,' he rasped.

‘True, but we're not in Italy.'

‘But I'm half Italian,' he reminded her as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. ‘You'll enjoy being married to an Italian,' he promised.

‘I'm beginning to think you could be right,' she agreed with a blissful smile.

‘I always am.'

Just this once Scarlet decided she would let Roman get away with this outrageous claim. After all, there would be plenty of other chances for her to point out the error of his ways. Not that she wanted to change her Italian lover; she liked him just the way he was!