Secret Heirs: His One Night Consequence. Кэрол Мортимер
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the news with a quizzical look that made the blood rise hot in her cheeks.
‘Moving in exalted circles, Carys,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t hurry back.’
She was aware of the other staff, watching surreptitiously as she pushed her chair back and stood up.
Carys had been a bundle of nerves for the past few days, ever since Alessandro had pulled strings to have the DNA tests taken in the privacy of her flat. Another reminder, if she’d needed it, of his enormous wealth. His ability to get what he wanted.
The technician had been friendly, talkative despite the marked silence between Carys and Alessandro. She’d seemed oblivious to the atmosphere laden with unspoken challenges and questions. Or maybe the woman was used to the high-octane emotions such circumstances engendered. After all, there’d be no need for mouth swabs and scientific proof if there was trust between a couple.
If a man believed his lover.
Sucking in her breath, Carys straightened her shoulders and took her time walking to the lift.
Alessandro must have received advice from the pathology company. Surely that was why she’d been summoned. No doubt he’d paid for the privilege of getting an ultra-fast turnaround on the lab results.
Her stomach cramped in anxiety.
What would he do now that he knew Leo was his?
The question had haunted her for days so that even when she finally slept, stress dreams plagued her. She woke feeling even more tired than when she went to bed.
The butler was waiting at the door for her, his smile friendly but impersonal.
Had he seen her desperate flight from the suite several days ago? Carys kept her chin high as she forced an answering smile to her lips and walked in.
The lush quiet of the suite engulfed her. Its understated opulence showcased fine furnishings and every modern convenience provided just for one man. It had been designed for the mega-wealthy, the vastly important.
No wonder she felt wretchedly small and nervous as she approached the silent man who dominated the room.
He might fit in here, but she didn’t. Carys was completely, unalterably ordinary. Not by any stretch of the imagination could she be considered special. She’d faced that long ago, before Alessandro had tempted her for a brief, crazy time to believe in miracles.
‘Carys.’ The sound of his deep, slightly husky voice rippled like a sensual caress across her skin. Her reaction, her physical weakness for him, made her hackles rise.
‘Alessandro.’ She nodded. ‘You demanded my presence?’
His head tilted slightly as he watched her, his look assessing but his face unreadable.
‘I requested your presence.’
‘Ah, but when the request comes from the presidential suite we staff tend to jump.’ For some reason she found safety in emphasising the huge gulf between them. As if she could magically erase the memory of the madness that had gripped them last time she was here.
Her gaze flickered to the plump lounges, the wall where he’d held her and caressed her and almost…
‘Please, take a seat.’
To her surprise, he gestured to an upright chair in front of an antique desk. Carys shot him a startled glance but complied. Better this than the intimacy of the sofas.
It was only as she sat that she noticed the papers spread across the desk. ‘You’ve had the test results, then.’
‘I have.’
Carys could read nothing in his voice or in his face. Was he disappointed, angry, excited to discover he had a son? Or, she thought with a sinking sensation, didn’t he feel anything at all?
‘Coffee, Robson. Or—’ Alessandro paused to catch her eye ‘—would you prefer tea?’
‘Nothing, thank you.’ The idea of swallowing anything made her stomach curdle.
‘That will be all, Robson.’ Alessandro waited till the butler left before he turned to her again.
Instead of taking a chair, he lounged, arms crossed, against the desk. He was near enough for her to register his cologne. Her nerves reacted with a shimmy of excitement that made her grit her teeth in annoyance. She wished he’d move away. Far enough that she wasn’t plagued by remnants of the physical attraction that had been so strong between them.
‘What is it you want, Alessandro?’ After days of silence from him, now he expected her jump to do his bidding. It infuriated her.
‘We have arrangements to make. And you need to sign this.’ He waved a hand towards the paper on the desk then reached into his jacket pocket, eyes still holding hers. ‘You can use this when you’ve read it.’
Casually he laid a gold fountain pen on the desk beside a wad of papers.
Carys turned to face the desk. Not lab results after all. A quick look showed her long numbered paragraphs. Dense typescript. Pages and pages of legalese.
Her heart sank. Just the sort of document she hated. She couldn’t deal with this while Alessandro stood so close.
A flutter of panic flared in her breast and she reached out one clammy hand to flick through the wad. The last page had space for her signature and Alessandro’s.
As the pages settled again, she tried to concentrate on the first paragraph, but one of the lines kept jumping sideways so she lost her place.
Damn. Had she brought her glasses? She fumbled in her jacket pocket, aware of Alessandro’s silent scrutiny.
‘What is it you want me to sign?’
His eyes blazed green fire as he watched her from his superior height. Did she imagine a hint of tension around his mouth? A faint tightness between his brows?
‘A prenuptial agreement.’
‘A what?’ Carys’ reading glasses slid from numb fingers as she swung round to face him.
The sober light in his eyes told her she wasn’t hearing things.
‘An agreement setting out both parties’ entitlements—’
‘I know what a prenuptial agreement is.’ She dragged in a deep breath to fill her suddenly constricted lungs, her pulse racing jaggedly. ‘We don’t need one. It’s for people who plan to marry.’
He smiled then. Not a grin. Not even a real smile. Just a brief quirk of the lips that might have signalled amusement or impatience or even annoyance.
And still his eyes bored into her like lasers.
‘We need it, Carys.’ His words were crisp, clear and unmistakeable. ‘Because we’re getting married.’
He reached out and stroked a finger down her cheek. Fire streaked across her skin and blasted through her hard won calm. ‘It’s the only possible course of action. You must have known we’d marry once I discovered the child is mine.’
For an eternity the words hung between them. She stared up at him, lush mouth sagging, bright eyes stunned. Then, like the flick of a switch, animation returned.
‘The child has a name, damn you!’
Carys jerked from his touch, catapulting from the chair and almost knocking it over in her haste. She stood defiant and furious, feet planted squarely and chest heaving.
‘Don’t you ever talk about Leo again as if he were some…some commodity!’
Madonna mia! With her eyes flashing and high colour in her softly-rounded cheeks, energy radiating from her in angry waves, she was stunning. More than pretty. Or beautiful. Something far more profound.
Enough almost to distract him from the important business of securing