Secret Heirs: Baby Bargain
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She wrapped it around her and banged on the overhead light in the process as she headed out of the door and to the little bathroom off to the side.
She needed to get her thoughts in order.
Sergio, on the verge of following her—because why the hell did she have to overreact to a perfectly simple word of warning?—stopped in his tracks and took notice of what had not been visible when they had stumbled into the bedroom.
The bookshelf at the side of the bed.
The top shelf groaned under the weight of art books and the remaining three shelves were crammed with illustrations of varying sizes painted onto hardboard, some of them overlapping. He went closer. They were exquisite. Very detailed. Some depicted birds or flowers, others recognisable cartoon characters in comic poses.
She hadn’t been lying. Not about this, at any rate.
Of course it made no difference, he decided. She might not be the gold-digger he had first thought, but...
She was in the shower. He could hear it going and he roamed through her tiny sitting area, taking in all the expensive little trinkets that were dotted here and there.
So she had expensive tastes? Maybe she saved whatever little money she earned and splashed out on expensive stuff?
Or maybe they were presents from rich ex-lovers?
Not caring for the thought of that, he headed straight for the bathroom and pushed open the door. He hadn’t expected it to have the sophistication of something as simple as a lock and he had been right. No lock.
She gave a startled shriek as he yanked back the shower curtain and he smiled drily when she tried to cover all her private parts with her hands—which left a cute little nipple showing, as well as some deliciously damp pubic hair peeping past her fingers.
‘If you don’t mind,’ Susie nearly shouted, still seething because she had managed to ignore every single warning sign and fly into bed with someone who had filled her flat with stupid roses and was now trying to think of a way of dispatching her.
‘I don’t if you don’t...’ Sergio grinned slowly and then stepped into the shower with her.
He was far too tall, and far too broad, and it was beyond cramped but he didn’t mind. Whether it was because he’d discovered those paintings, worked out that she had at least told the truth about one thing, whether she’d listened to his warnings or not, he knew that there was no doubt in his mind that this was just too damned good to end just yet...
‘What are you doing? I don’t want you in here with me!’
‘Why not? I can reach lots of places you can’t reach with the soap...’ He cupped her protesting face in his hands and kissed her while the water streamed over them.
Susie tried her best to resist. She was confused. Could she do this? Was this really her? Was she a woman who could have a full-blown affair with a guy when she knew—when she had been told in no uncertain terms—that it was going nowhere?
Did a relationship have to go anywhere, anyway? Of course she was essentially a romantic, someone who believed in love and happy endings, but that wasn’t life most of the time—and what was the point in denying herself the joy of adventure, the fun of searching, the excitement of the unknown in the meanwhile?
The forthcoming wedding and her anxious desire to show up with someone halfway decent had thrown everything out of proportion. She had suddenly become desperate to find someone suitable, to prove herself in her family’s eyes...and desperation had made her lose perspective.
She didn’t need guarantees of anything to have fun. He had been brutally honest and she had learnt a valuable lesson from that honesty: take what was on offer and ask for nothing more or else walk away right now...
‘I was tactless,’ Sergio murmured, drawing back and staring down at her. ‘Forgive me.’
He reached for the bar of soap, rubbed at it until it lathered and then began to soap her, his body pressing against hers as though they were doing a very slow dance together. He soaped her back, her buttocks and then her stomach.
By the time his hands made it to her breasts she was no longer thinking straight. In fact she wasn’t thinking at all.
‘I’d suck your nipples,’ he murmured, ‘but this cramped space won’t allow that sort of luxury. Next time we do anything under running water it’s not going to be here. You’ll have to settle for me playing with them instead... Like it? How much...? You have fantastic nipples...nice and big and very, very suckable... Shall I tell you what I’d really like to do now?’
‘No! You’re turning me on too much...’
‘I like that. We could head for the bed, but I’m enjoying this experience...enjoying thinking about how much more we could do if we had just a little more space... I could get down on my knees and taste you down there...would you like that?’
‘Stop...’ she begged.
She wanted him inside her so badly that it hurt, but he was right. The shower cubicle was fashioned on the same small scale as everything else in the flat. She couldn’t even let him lift her onto him—couldn’t wrap her legs around his body, couldn’t let him penetrate her that way. Not without paramedics getting involved.
‘Play with me,’ he urged. ‘There are other ways of getting some satisfaction...’
He moved under the water, his hand pressed against the tiled wall, his powerful body jerking as she excited him with her hand until he had descended from his climax.
Her body was craving fulfilment. She parted her legs and moaned softly as he slipped his fingers into her. With his hand on her back, he manoeuvred her until he found the perfect position, the perfect place to bring her to her own shuddering orgasm.
She flung back her head, not caring that he was looking at her in her most intensely private moment, and her whole body stiffened as those magical fingers stroked and rubbed, fast then slow, hard then gentle, taking her to the very peak of physical pleasure.
The water was beginning to go cold when she was once again breathing evenly, her eyes drowsy with satisfaction.
Sergio switched off the shower and then dried her off, very tenderly.
She was spent. She felt like a rag doll, quite happy for him to take her in hand.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you by being blunt,’ he said, once he’d sat her down in the sitting room, with her bathrobe around her and a cup of coffee in her hand. ‘I just wanted to make sure that there weren’t any mixed messages.’
‘I know.’ Susie sipped her coffee and realised this was what it was—his way of gently but firmly reminding her of the conditions for whatever relationship they enjoyed. It wasn’t going to last. He was giving her an out.
The dozens and dozens of roses were proof of how much he wanted her...but if she didn’t agree to his terms and conditions there would be no more of those. The pursuit would be well and truly over.
‘I’m not a kid, whatever you might believe. I’m not after your money either. I can look after myself, and I understand perfectly what you’re saying to me. No involvement except of a sexual kind.’ She shrugged. ‘A little light-hearted fun...sounds like a brilliant idea...’
Sergio dealt her a slashing smile. ‘Good.’ Midnight-blue eyes fixed on her with immense satisfaction. ‘Come lie on me, in that case, and tell me all about those paintings I saw in your bedroom...’
CHAPTER FIVE
THE WRETCHED WEDDING was here. In the thrill of being with Sergio she had forgotten about it, even though her mother and her sister had made sure to remind her at frequent intervals, had quizzed her as to whether she had bought a dress.
Susie wondered whether they expected her to show up in an artist’s smock with a paintbrush stuck behind her ear. Or maybe wearing a pair of jeans and a tee shirt and trainers, because she always left the ‘looking smart’ stuff to Alex, who did it so much better. Alex was tall, leggy, brunette, sophisticated. Clothes just always seemed to hang better on her.
Being five foot four, prone to looking round, with wild blonde hair that strenuously resisted the call of straighteners was always going to be a challenge to smart outfits.
But she had bought a dress and now, sitting cross-legged on her bed, she stared at it without really seeing it at all.
Of course Sergio wouldn’t be going with her. Even though they had now been seeing one another for nearly two months—two blissful, sexy, passionate months.
She felt a lump in her throat and tears begin to gather at the back of her eyes, because soon it was all going to have to draw to a painful close. Painful for her, at any rate.
She had only gone and disobeyed his orders not to get involved, not to see what they had as anything more than what it was—fantastic sex. It was the lynchpin of their relationship. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another. He had confessed that he was surprised, because he had expected it to fizzle out after a couple of weeks, and she had taken that to mean that however good the sex was she really didn’t have what it took to hold his interest.
Not the way he held hers. The way that made her want more...the way that made her think of commitment and permanence...the way that made her crave a future and plans that went further than what they were going to do the following evening.
She wouldn’t be seeing him tonight because he was in New York, clinching a big deal. He had been gone two days and he would be gone two more, conveniently over the wedding weekend, so she hadn’t even had to skirt round the issue.
Not that he would have volunteered to come anyway. She had grudgingly confessed that the reason she had been so idiotically tempted into online dating had been to see whether the love of her life might have materialised out there, so that she could show him off at her cousin’s wedding and kill all those muted whispers about when she was going to find herself a decent guy.
He had grinned and told her that he had never heard such a crazy reason for dating losers who went online to see what they could catch.
She lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, considering her options.
Next to her was the little stick with the bright blue lines announcing that her life as she knew it was over.
Pregnant!
He had been beyond careful every single time they had made love except for that very first time, when he had moved inside her and then withdrawn almost immediately—but not fast enough, because he had left behind enough of himself to create the little tiny life that was beating away inside her now.
He was going to go mad.
He was going to run faster than a speeding bullet.
Oh, yes, he would do the decent thing by her financially, but he didn’t do long-term relationships.
She was facing a sea change and there would be no one by her side. Her parents were going to be disappointed. Her mother would shake her head and try to find a silver lining somewhere. Her father would make noises about her moving back home to live with them—although they spent most of their time out of the country anyway, so it wasn’t as though they would be around for babysitting duties. She and Alex had had nannies from birth, so it was unlikely that a surprise grandchild would suddenly convert her parents into the sort of people who would enjoy pushing a pram in the park and feeding the ducks.
And Alex would be disappointed as well. How could you have been so careless? Contraception is free, Susie! So that this sort of thing can be prevented! She could almost hear her sister’s voice ringing in her ears.
Disappointment all round.
A wave of self-pity washed over her. Just when she was beginning to build up a steady base with her freelance work, just when she was on the verge of getting a commission from one of the museums to illustrate the natural history section for a book to be brought out the following year...
Her cell phone buzzed and she glanced at Sergio’s number and debated whether she should just let it ring. He had called her at least twice a day since he had been in New York.
‘Hi.’
She couldn’t resist hearing the deep drawl of his sexy voice. Even from across the Atlantic it still managed to do weird and wonderful things to her tummy.
But she knew that she sounded flat, and she decided that she didn’t care because soon there would be no more of him anyway.
She wasn’t quite sure when she would break the news. No rush. She had to take time out to get her head round it herself before she started trying to cope with his horror.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ She tried to inject her usual ready laugh into her voice, but it petered out into a sigh and she lacked the energy to take it up a notch.
Instead, she asked him what he was doing, how his deal was going, whether he had sorted it out. They never talked about his work. She knew he did high-powered stuff involving complicated finance and tricky acquisitions. And she now had a better idea of just how much he owned. Enormous amounts of money. Companies all over the place—from restaurants to a publishing house.
However, she just didn’t have it in her to get detailed when it came to showing her interest—which, she guessed, was just one of those chasms between them. His future would include a woman who understood the ins and outs of what he did and could fully follow if he chose to discuss the details.
Thinking about that brought her right back to a future he certainly wouldn’t want—and that would be one with a child he hadn’t banked on and a woman he fundamentally didn’t see as having a lasting place in his life.
‘Huh?’ She surfaced to realise that he had asked her something.
‘Spit it out, Susie. What’s bugging you? You’ve just asked me about my deal, which is something you never do, and you haven’t said a word about what you’ve been doing. Where’s my sexy chatterbox disappeared to?’
Susie stiffened. Sexy. Chatterbox. That was what she represented to him, she thought with unusual bitterness. She was someone to get into bed with who talked a lot. She bored him with inane chatter about her work, her illustrations, conversations she’d had with random people during the course of the day, gossip she’d shared with her friends, all their escapades and little adventures. He always listened, but that wasn’t to say that he listened with interest, was it? He listened because it came as part of the package deal that included the sex he was always reminding her was the best he’d ever had.
‘You’re not angsting over that wedding, are you?’ Sergio drawled drily.
Should he tell her that he had decided to surprise her there with his presence? He really didn’t want her getting the wrong idea, and weddings were occasions when wrong ideas could easily start taking shape, but he wanted to fill in some missing pieces. He wasn’t into meeting the family members of the women he slept with, but for someone so open she was reticent when it came to family stories.
What was she hiding? He might not be in it for the long haul but he didn’t like secrets. Secrets made him uneasy. He liked knowing the layout of the land around him. He liked control, and if that meant meeting her relatives, then so be it. He wanted a complete picture. The picture might throw up all the suspicions he had had of her in the beginning again, and then it would be a shame but he would have to get rid of her.
And, on a more fundamental level, he was missing the feel of her responsive little body.
‘Er...yes, I guess so...’ Susie clung to this lifeline. ‘You know...there’ll be so many people there...relatives I haven’t seen for a million years...all that small talk...’
‘You’re good at small talk.’ He shook off the uncomfortable thought that he wanted to believe what she told him.
She gritted her teeth. ‘And I’m beginning to think that I should have got the blue dress instead of this brown one. Brown’s such a drab colour.’
So he thought she was only good for sex and small talk? Well, she might just as well live down to his expectations! She droned about the dress with suitable enthusiasm until she began boring herself.
‘You looked sexy as hell when you tried it on for me...’ Sergio murmured, thinking ahead to ripping it off her. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would just push the flimsy fabric up and take her while she was still dressed to kill. Maybe he would insist that she left on the high stilettos...
He relaxed, comfortable with thoughts of the fantastic sex they would have. A quiet place somewhere...assuming there would be a quiet place...because he had no idea where the venue was.
He only knew that the wedding was being held in the country somewhere. Berkshire. Probably a town hall...or a village pub... He had the address, but it meant nothing to him because he rarely saw fit to venture outside London.
‘In fact...’ He dropped his voice a couple of levels, ‘I’ve been having some rather interesting fantasies involving that dress...’
Susie didn’t want to hear. She didn’t want to be reminded that she was just all about the sex and the small talk. She also didn’t want to feel the liquid she was now feeling pooling between her legs, making her want to touch herself right here, right now.
‘Shouldn’t you be focusing on your work...and...er...not having...fantasies about me in a drab brown dress...?’
‘You’re cute when you fish for compliments, Susie...’
‘I was doing no such thing!’
‘Of course you were. You want me to tell you that the dress isn’t brown...and it isn’t drab—at least not on you. You want me to tell you that those chiffon layers give just enough of a hint of what’s underneath to drive any sane man crazy with desire... You want me to tell you that if you were wearing that dress for me and me alone I’d insist you don’t wear a bra. But, considering you won’t be, then you’re under orders to wear your sturdiest, least attractive bra—because I don’t want any other man’s eyes lingering too long on your breasts...those breasts are for my eyes only...’
‘Stop...’ She hated the way he could make her blood run hot in her veins, the way he could make her blush and giggle and could drive every coherent thought from her head.
‘I wouldn’t stop,’ he murmured huskily, glancing down at his watch and realising that in under fifteen minutes someone would tap him on the shoulder and tell him that he was ready to board, ‘but I’ve got to run. And...’
‘Time is money. Yes. I know.’ It was what he always said, in that teasing voice of his, and it had become their private mantra—which was just one of the stupid little things that had lulled her into falling in love with him. One of the shared jokes which made their relationship feel so intimate to her but which really didn’t mean anything to him at all.
She remembered the pregnancy test stick, temporarily forgotten, which was on the bed next to her.
‘I’m not sure I can see you on Sunday evening when you get back,’ she said flatly. ‘Things aren’t going to end until quite late Saturday night...probably not until the early hours of Sunday morning...and I’m thinking I might just hang around for the rest of Sunday there...catch up with all those relatives I haven’t seen in such a long time...’
‘I thought catching up with the relatives you haven’t seen in a long time was one of the things bugging you about going in the first place...?’
‘There are quite a few I do actually want to see...so... Maybe next week we can...er...meet up...?’
Normally she would be hopping up and down at the thought of seeing him, not politely putting him off, but these weren’t normal times, were they? Normal times were at an end, and she had to start laying the foundations for her eventual withdrawal. She had to train herself to get used to not having him around—and widening the gaps between the times when they saw one another was step one on that road.
Her mind fogged over. Because there were now so many steps on this new road that she wasn’t sure where to put the first one.
‘No problem,’ Sergio said easily, thinking that she would be seeing him a whole lot sooner than she anticipated.
‘No problem?’
‘I’ll call you.’
‘Right. Yes. Call me.’
‘Really have to go now... I’ll see you when I see you...’
He disconnected. Susie stared at her mobile phone, heart thudding. He hadn’t expressed any disappointment at the thought that he wouldn’t be seeing her the weekend when he returned from New York.
Was he tiring of her? Had she reached her sell-by date? She had always known that it existed, but now that it was staring her in the face she felt sick, desperate with longing, panicked at the thought that he might be in the process of dumping her, and angry with herself for not being stronger when it was going to happen anyway—just as soon as she detonated her bomb under his carefully organised life.
She barely slept at all, woke the following morning far later than she had planned, and then spent the remainder of the morning rushing around, trying to do clever things with her hair, looking at the clock, and frantically wrapping the present she had bought in paper she had designed herself but unfortunately not in quite the right size, so that she had to camouflage the gap with ordinary brown paper and very wide ribbon.
In between all of this she kept stopping in front of the mirror, gazing at her still flat stomach and wondering what was going on inside.
The wedding ceremony kicked off at three, at the small church in the village where her aunt and uncle lived. It was the sort of picture-postcard-perfect place that only the super-rich could afford. No one would ever guess that it was a thriving commuter hub for many of those top businessmen who had to get into the City, where they could earn sufficient money to install their families in the rolling mansions and quaint cottages that dotted that part of Berkshire.
As a child, she and Alex had always enjoyed making the trip down to see Clarissa. Their own parents, Louise and Robert Sadler, had lived further north, and being close to London had seemed like a grand adventure whenever they had ventured south.
Clarissa and her husband-to-be, Thomas, at twenty-two and twenty-eight respectively, were good candidates for the Berkshire lifestyle. He was an up-and-coming barrister and she was destined to be the perfect stay-at-home wife.
On the way out of her flat Susie paused to look at her reflection in the mirror again and thought to herself that Clarissa might have beaten both she and Alex up the aisle, much to her mother’s dismay, but she would be the first to deliver a grandchild.
Even if, she thought with a grimace, the standing ovation might be a little muted.
She had planned on taking the train and then a taxi to the church, but on the spur of the moment she threw parsimony to the winds and decided on a taxi for the entire trip.
It meant dipping into the trust fund which she had always refused to touch, because it was there for when she decided to find somewhere to buy, but she honestly couldn’t face the hassle of the train station in her wedding outfit.
Not when her thoughts were all over the place. Not when she felt sick with tension at the unexpected future in front of her. Definitely not when she thought of Sergio and the way he had casually dismissed her.
Outside, it was the perfect day for an early spring wedding. The skies were blue and cloudless, and the air was crisp rather than cold. Coats were needed, but thin ones, and there was no mud anywhere for delicate high heels to subside into.
Clarissa would be thrilled to bits. She had always had an uncanny ability to make people and things in general fall in line with what she wanted, and lo and behold the weather was being obedient.
Susie grinned, relaxing as she was driven to the church and only tensing once more when she was deposited outside, to join the two-hundred-strong throng of people piled in front.