The Revenge Collection 2018. Кейт Хьюит
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and she only went to find him when she understood that dragging this out was going to make it worse. Was making it worse.
This will be fine, she told herself as she walked down the wide, smooth stairs, aware that she was delivering herself to her own execution. But there was, despite everything, that teeny tiny sliver of hope deep inside of her that maybe, just maybe, she’d be wrong about this. That he’d surprise her.
We’re both adults. These things happen...
Giancarlo waited for her in the open doors that led out to the loggia—which, she supposed with the faintest hint of the hysteria she fought to keep away for fear it might swamp her, was appropriate, given where this baby had likely been conceived. He didn’t turn when she came up behind him, he merely held out his hand.
Demonstrating how little he trusted her, she realized, when she finally understood what he was doing and what he expected her to put in his palm. Not her hand, for comfort. The pregnancy test. For proof.
Because he expected tricks and lies from her, even now. Even about this.
She felt something topple over inside of her, some foundation or other, but she couldn’t concentrate on that now. There was only Giancarlo, scowling down at the slender stick in his hand before he bit out a curse and flung it aside.
A thousand smart responses to that moved through her, but she was still shaky from that immense emotional slap that had walloped her upstairs, and she kept them all to herself. He stood there, every muscle tight, even his jaw a hard, granite accusation, and he didn’t look at her for a long time.
When he did, it was worse.
Paige waited for him to speak, even as something inside her protested that no, she did not deserve his anger here. That she hadn’t done this alone. But she shoved that down, too.
“I thought you were on the pill.”
She blinked at the ferocity in his tone. The bite.
“No, you didn’t. You used condoms after the first night. Why would you do that if you thought I was on the pill?” He stared at her, and the truth of that rolled over her. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe through it. Then she could, and it hurt. It more than hurt. Another foundation turned to dust in an instant. “Oh.”
“Tell me,” he said in that vicious, cruel way she hadn’t heard in almost a month now, so long she’d forgotten how awful it was, how deeply it clawed into her, “what possible reason you could have for sleeping with a man without protection?”
“You did the same thing.” But her tongue felt too thick and her head buzzed and she’d known this would happen. Maybe not this. Maybe not a pregnancy. But that look on his face. She’d always known she’d see that again. She hadn’t understood, until now, how very much she’d wanted to be wrong. “You were right there with me.”
“I thought you were on the pill.”
She felt helpless. Terrified. Sick. “Why?”
He swore again, not in Italian this time, and she flinched. “What kind of question is that? Because you were before.”
“That was different.” She was too shaken to think about what she was saying, so she told him the truth without any varnishing. “My mother was terrified I’d end up pregnant at sixteen and forced to raise the baby, like she was with me, so she had me on the pill from the moment I hit puberty.”
“And you stopped?” He sounded furious and disbelieving, and Paige didn’t understand. How could he think she’d planned this? How could she have, even if she’d wanted to? You knew he didn’t use anything that first night. Why didn’t you say something? But she knew. She hadn’t wanted him to stop. She’d wanted him more than anything. “Why the hell would you do something like that?”
“I told you.”
Paige was whispering, and she’d backed up so her spine was against the far side of the open doorway as if the house might keep her from collapsing to the floor, but Giancarlo hadn’t moved at all. He didn’t have to move. His black fury took up all the air. It blocked out the sun.
This is what you deserve, her mother’s voice said in her head, filled with a sick glee. This is what happens to little whores like you, Nicola. You end up like me.
“You’re the only man I’ve slept with the past ten years,” she told him, bald and unflinching. He let out a sound she couldn’t interpret and so she kept going, because she was certain she could explain this to him so he would understand. He had to understand. They were going to be parents whether he liked it or not. “You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with, Giancarlo.”
“Do not try to sell me that nonsense, not now,” he barked at her, as if the words were welling up from somewhere deep inside of him. “I didn’t believe the story that you were a virgin then, not even when I thought I could trust you. I’ll hand it to you, though. You really do remember all the tortured details of the lies you spin.”
“What are you talking about?” Paige shook her head, trying to keep her panic at bay, trying to keep the tears from her voice, and not really succeeding at either. “Who lies about being a virgin at twenty?”
“I can’t believe I fell for this twice,” he spat, his gaze a molten fury of dark gold, his mouth grim. “I can’t believe I walked straight into this. Let me guess. You’ve never given motherhood a moment’s thought, but today, as you gazed upon the test that confirmed your pregnancy, something stirred within you that you’d never felt before.” His laugh felt like acid. “Is that about right?”
“Why are you talking to me like I planned this?” she cried. “No one forced you to have sex with me! And no one forced you to do it without a condom!”
“You’re good,” he said, still in that horrible way that curled inside of her, oily and thick. “I’ll give you that. I never saw this coming. I thought I was being too hard on you. I was falling in love with you all over again, but in the end, you’re just like her. You always have been. I’m such an idiot.”
“For all you know I have no intention of keeping it,” she threw at him, desperate to make him look at her like a person again, not like a scam with two legs. Exactly the way he had ten years ago, when he’d waved that magazine in the air outside her apartment and she’d almost wished he’d thrown it at her—because that would be better, she’d thought then, and less violent than that look on his face in that moment before he’d turned and walked away.
But the look of contempt he gave her now was not an improvement.
And his words finally penetrated. I was falling in love with you.
“Am I to understand that this is your threat?” he asked in that low, lethal way of his that made her shudder. That made that hollow thing inside of her grow wide and grow teeth. That made it perfectly clear any love he might have felt for her was very much past tense. “I applaud you, Nicola,” and that name was worse than acid. If he’d hauled off and hit her, he couldn’t have hurt her more. “Most women would dance around the issue. But you, as ever, go right to the heart of it.”
“I’m not threatening you,” she said wildly, only realizing when her cheeks felt cool in the breeze that tears were running down her face. “This wasn’t planned. I don’t know why you insist on thinking the worst of me—”
“Stop.” It was a command, harsh and cold. “I’m not doing this with you again. I’m not pretending it matters what you say. You’ll do what you like, Nicola. You always do. And like a cockroach I have no doubt you’ll survive whatever happens and come back even stronger. Violet’s protégé in more ways than I realized.”
“Why would I force a child on you?” she demanded. “Why?”
“Perhaps you thought your payday last time wasn’t enough,” he bit out. “Perhaps you want to make certain you really