“The princess is pregnant.”

With the Italian’s baby!

For a stolen night of freedom, ever-dutiful Princess Halina throws caution to the wind and succumbs to the seduction of notorious Rico Falcone. Yet the consequences of their insatiable passion land Lina in royal disgrace. When she’s hidden away to conceal her shocking secret, ruthless Rico storms the palace! He’ll do anything to legitimize his child—he’ll even make Lina his wife!

Indulge in this passionate pregnancy romance!

After spending three years as a die-hard New Yorker, KATE HEWITT now lives in a small village in the English Lake District with her husband, their five children and a golden retriever. In addition to writing intensely emotional stories, she loves reading, baking and playing chess with her son—she has yet to win against him, but she continues to try. Learn more about Kate at kate-hewitt.com.

Also by Kate Hewitt

Larenzo’s Christmas Baby

Inherited by Ferranti

Moretti’s Marriage Command

Demetriou Demands His Child

A Di Sione for the Greek’s Pleasure

Engaged for Her Enemy’s Heir

The Innocent’s One-Night Surrender

Desert Prince’s Stolen Bride

Seduced by a Sheikh miniseries

The Secret Heir of Alazar

The Forced Bride of Alazar

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Princess’s Nine-Month Secret

Kate Hewitt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07248-9

PRINCESS’S NINE-MONTH SECRET

© 2018 Kate Hewitt

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To Laurie,

thank you for being such a fantastic editor!

Warmest wishes, K.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

IN THE END it was surprisingly easy to escape. Abdul, the royal bodyguard posted by the hotel suite’s door, dozed off around ten o’clock, his head nodding onto his chest, and Halina Amari, Princess of Abkar, slipped by him on her tiptoes, holding her breath.

She’d never done anything like this before, never once tried to escape whatever narrow confines she’d been put in—although she’d certainly tested the boundaries and stretched her wings as much as she could, which was very little indeed. But tonight she wanted to fly.

This might be her last chance. The world was closing in, getting smaller and smaller thanks to her father—and Prince Zayed al bin Nur, her fiancé. The realisation of how close she’d come to being even more of a prisoner than she already was made her heart leap into her throat. And as for Olivia...

But she couldn’t think about Olivia, not now, during her one bid for an evening’s freedom. Halina hurried down the hall of the elegant luxury hotel in Rome towards the lift. Abdul stirred and she pressed herself against the wall. She could hardly believe it had been so easy, but why not? The door to their suite had been locked from the inside, the guard posted outside as a matter of form. Her mother had been trying to keep people out, not in. No one had expected her to escape. She could barely believe it herself.

The doors whooshed open and Halina stepped into the lift, her heart pounding, her palms slick. What was she doing? She’d spent every one of her twenty-two years hidden behind high walls—the palace, the convent school in Italy and then the palace again. Waiting, always waiting, for the fiancé she’d never met to regain his throne and become a suitable suitor. Waiting for her life to begin, or at least something to happen.

Three days ago, Zayed al bin Nur had mistakenly kidnapped Olivia Taylor, her sisters’ governess and her school friend, thinking she was Halina herself.

Rumour was he’d married Olivia out in the desert before realising his grievous error. Zayed had sent a message to her father, assuring him that he had not in any way harmed Olivia, for which Halina was heartily relieved. But the whole episode had made her realise how precarious her own position was. How limited her own freedom. And it had infuriated her father, Sultan Hassan, who had sent Halina to Italy with her mother, away from Zayed’s clutches.

Halina was glad for the escape; she’d never wanted to marry Zayed, a man she’d never even met, and she certainly didn’t want to be kidnapped—although she doubted her fiancé was fool enough to try the same trick twice. But the walls around her were closing in.

After this, her father would make sure she was even more restricted, more guarded, than she already was. And that was something Halina could not stand. After twenty-two years of waiting, she wanted to live...even if just for a night.

The lift doors opened and from the hotel’s opulent ballroom she heard the tinkling sound of piano music and crystal, the low murmur of cultured voices. When she and her mother had arrived that afternoon, she’d seen the notice in the hotel’s lobby about the private party, a charity function hosted by some CEO, a glittering event for all of Italy’s richest and finest. Her mother had given Halina a sympathetic smile.

‘One day, such parties will be for you,’ she’d said, steering Halina towards the lift. ‘When you are wed. But as for tonight, a quiet night in while we wait for your father’s further instructions.’

Halina had never been to a proper party. Since she’d turned eighteen she’d attended a few dire state functions, endless banquets with fussy old dignitaries, but never a party. She’d never worn a cocktail dress, flirted or drunk champagne. And that was what she wanted to do tonight—to be normal just for a little while, a young woman having fun, enjoying life.

Of course, there were a few obstacles to be overcome. She’d managed the first—escaping her room. She’d pleaded a headache and hidden in her room until her mother had gone to have a bath before making her getaway.

The second obstacle was clothes. She didn’t have anything appropriate to wear. Fortunately the hotel had an upscale boutique, and after hurrying across the lobby Halina slipped into the elegant shop and picked the first suitable dress she saw—a knee-length sheath in black satin, simple, stark and very sexy. She found sheer stockings and high heels as well, and charged it all to her hotel room. She’d think about the repercussions later. Hopefully her mother would never look at the bill.

Holding the elegant bag with its embossed silver logo and thick cord handles, Halina snuck into the bathroom off the hotel’s foyer and changed in a stall, her hands shaking as she stuffed her plain shift dress into the bag from the boutique. Was she really doing this? Was she crazy?

She’d always enjoyed pranks and dares, and had forever got into good-natured trouble at school. But this...this was something else entirely. If her mother discovered her...if her father found out... Halina trembled to think of their disappointment and wrath. Her parents were both genial, but they’d never had to deal with such direct defiance from her or her sisters. Still, she had to try. She’d just have to live with the potential consequences, whatever they were.

The door to the bathroom opened and Halina held her breath, one hand on the latch of her stall, fingers near to trembling. She couldn’t be discovered now, not when her evening was just about to begin.

She heard the click of heels and from beneath the stall she saw the stiletto-shod feet of two women as they stood in front of the bank of sinks.

‘Did you see him?’ one of the women asked in Italian, in which Halina was fluent, as the other unzipped her make-up bag. Halina peered through the crack in the stall’s door and saw the women, sleek and elegant, their lips pursed and eyes narrowed as they gazed at their glossy reflections.

‘Falcone? Yes, he’s just arrived,’ the other woman answered with a toss of her head. ‘The man’s cold. Sexy as anything, but with a heart of ice. He’s finished with his latest mistress, you know. Gave her the usual diamond bracelet as a payoff and now he’s completely blanking her. She was crying her eyes out by the buffet.’

‘That French supermodel? She didn’t last more than a week.’

‘They never do.’ The other woman capped her lipstick in one decisive movement. ‘Would you fancy him?’

‘Everyone fancies him. But would I go for him?’ The woman tilted her head, considering. ‘He must be fabulous in bed, based on everything I’ve heard, but I don’t think I could warm up to someone that cold. One of his mistresses said that afterwards he always asks the woman to leave. And I mean, right afterwards. He’s booting them out only seconds later.’

‘There could be worse things.’

‘And he insists on no personal questions at all. No asking, no answering, nothing. He just doesn’t care.’

‘But as long as you know that...’

‘So it really would just be sex,’ the woman finished with a sigh. ‘And apparently that is amazing. That supermodel said she’s been ruined for life, and it’s only been a week.’

Halina’s head whirled at the kind of gossip she’d never heard before. Whoever Falcone was, he sounded both appalling—and intriguing. Fabulous sex? She’d never even been kissed.

‘Oh, well,’ the first woman said as she zipped her bag up. ‘Someone said he’s already looking for his next mistress tonight—he doesn’t like to have long in between paramours.’

‘Mere minutes, it seems,’ the other woman quipped. ‘Well, it won’t be me.’ She sounded glum rather than determined.

With a swish of skirts and a click of heels the two women left the bathroom. Halina exhaled a huge sigh of relief. She was alone again—and it was time to make her own exit. She stuffed the bag with her own shift dress behind the toilet, hoping it would stay hidden for the evening until she was ready to return to her suite.

She hadn’t quite figured out how she was going to return—would Abdul, her guard, still be asleep? And, if he wasn’t, could she make something up about having taken a walk, gone for some fresh air? She’d just have to and hope Abdul—and her mother—bought her lie. This was her one night to shine, or at least twinkle a little.

Halina stepped out of the stall, her eyes widening at the sight of her reflection. The dress hugged her curvy figure, leaving little to the imagination. She’d never, ever worn something so flagrantly sexy. She’d never worn a dress so beautiful, so bare. She felt practically naked. The sheer stocking made her legs look long and slim, as did the sparkly black heels. She had no jewellery or make-up, and she’d have to leave her hair down, tumbled about her shoulders. She wouldn’t look nearly as sophisticated as the women she’d just been spying on, but it would have to do.

One night. An hour, even. All she wanted to do was circulate among people, drink champagne, chat and maybe, maybe, flirt a little. And then she’d creep back to her bed. But for an hour—or two—she’d have fun. She’d live.

With her head held high, Halina walked out of the bathroom. She wasn’t used to the heels and she stumbled for the first few steps before she got the hang of it, swinging her hips, sashaying a little. It buoyed her confidence, as did the admiring look from the man behind the concierge desk. She didn’t even think he recognised her from when they’d checked in earlier in the day.

She followed the signs for the party and then paused as she saw a man on the door checking a guest list. She hadn’t thought of that. The prospect of being turned away before she’d even put a toe inside the opulent ballroom made everything inside her shrivel with dismay and disappointment. She couldn’t let that happen.

A couple glided past her, pausing in front of the man. Halina watched, nibbling her lip as they gave their names and he ticked them off his list. Another couple came by, and Halina watched as they followed the same procedure before going in.

Could she sweet talk her way in? She had a flair for the dramatic, but only in the safety of home or school. She’d never tried to charm a stranger, but she supposed she’d have to try.

Just then the man with the guest list caught her eye. He raised his eyebrows, managing to look both inquiring and a bit disdainful. ‘May I help you, miss?’

Halina opened her mouth, her heart beating hard. ‘Well...’ she began, trying desperately to think of some credible reason why her name wasn’t on the list but why she should still be allowed entrance to the party. ‘As a matter of fact...’

The man’s polite smile started to turn cool. ‘Are you a guest tonight, miss...?’

Halina stared at him wretchedly. It was going to be over before it had even begun. Then she heard a voice from behind her, low and dark and rich.

‘Yes, she is,’ the man said. ‘She’s with me.’

* * *

Rico Falcone was looking for a woman, and he knew from the tightening in his gut that he’d found her. A startled gasp escaped the woman in question, her rosy lips parting as she whirled around to face him, dark hair flying about her shoulders in luxuriant waves and curls.

He’d caught a glimpse of her as he’d walked down the hall and his attention had been snagged immediately. A lush, curvy figure poured into a tight silk dress. Long, tumbling dark hair that she’d left loose and wild, like an open invitation. When she turned he saw dark-brown eyes widen, the colour of mahogany extravagantly fringed with soot-dark lashes.

‘I...’ she began in a breathy voice.

‘Cara,’ Rico purred, sliding a hand around her waist and enjoying the feel of his hip bumping hers. ‘It was so good of you to wait for me.’

‘I... I...’ she stuttered again, looking shocked. Was she playing the innocent or was she just slow? She was obviously a gate crasher, so Rico would have expected her to play her part in this charade with a bit more alacrity. Never mind. He didn’t bed women for their brains.

‘Very good, Signor Falcone,’ the man said, and ticked his name off the list, officious little nobody that he was. Rico moved into the room, his arm still around the woman’s waist. She didn’t resist, he noticed.

‘Champagne, I think,’ he murmured, and snapped his fingers. A waiter hurried forward and Rico plucked two glasses from the proffered tray before handing one to his next mistress. He’d already decided on that, although he didn’t think she’d last too long. They never did. ‘So. You obviously don’t have an invitation to this party, but what is your name?’ It was just about the only information he required of her.

‘H—Lina,’ she said, her fingers clenched tight around the stem of her glass.

‘Lina?’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘You sounded as if you were going to say something else.’

She smiled sweetly, her eyes flashing dark fire, intriguing him. ‘Lina will do for you.’ So she had some spirit. He liked that, as long as she didn’t start getting notions, thinking she could control him. Make him care. A few of the women he’d bedded had made that error, and it had been very tedious indeed. He’d had to make short work of them, when he would have enjoyed their attentions for a little bit longer.

‘Lina,’ he repeated, letting the syllables slide around in his mouth. ‘And why were you so desperate to attend a party that you weren’t invited to?’

She cocked her head, her smile teasing, her eyes alight, although he sensed a surprising nervousness underneath. ‘What girl doesn’t want to have fun?’

‘Right answer,’ he murmured, and clinked her glass. Her smile deepened, revealing a delightful dimple in one cheek, and she took a sip of her champagne.

‘Oh, it’s delicious!’ she exclaimed, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

‘You almost sound as if you haven’t tasted champagne before.’

She gave him a haughty look. ‘Of course I have,’ she said, and then, as if to prove the point, she drained her glass.

‘Time for another, I think,’ Rico said, and summoned a waiter with one imperious gesture. This woman, this Lina, was fascinating. Gate-crasher, definitely. Gold-digger as well, he was quite sure. He didn’t mind, though; as long as women were upfront about what they wanted—as he was about what he didn’t—the arrangement was usually satisfactory. He felt the tingle through his body of attraction and, yes, desire as he looked at her. Tonight, he hoped, was going to be very satisfactory.

She was certainly lovely, and unabashedly sexual with her tight dress and tumbled hair. She hadn’t bothered with make-up or jewellery, as if she had no need for extra frippery for what was, after all, a very basic transaction. She’d come to this party looking for fun, and quite possibly a protector. Rico intended it to be him, at least for a short while.

He took another flute of champagne from the proffered tray and handed it to her. ‘Cin cin,’ he murmured, and she smiled.

‘Cin cin.’ They’d been speaking Italian, and hers was flawless, although Rico suspected it was not her first language. He wondered what was. There was a faintly exotic cast to her features, her slightly tilted eyes and golden skin. He had no intention of or interest in asking her such questions or learning more about her. He’d long ago found that women started expecting things, emotional things, when he asked them even the most basic of questions. So he didn’t. And he made sure they didn’t ask any of him, either.

‘Lina,’ he said. ‘This party bores me. Do you want to go upstairs?’

Surprise flashed through her eyes and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, causing another painful arrow of desire to knife through him. ‘Upstairs?’

‘Yes, upstairs. I have the penthouse suite.’ He let his mouth curve in a lazy smile. ‘I think it would be a great deal more comfortable up there, and the champagne is of a far better vintage.’

‘I don’t even know your name,’ she protested, her cheeks flushing. She looked uncertain but also excited. Perhaps he’d been a bit too abrupt. He was getting tired of the same old niceties.

‘Rico,’ he said, although he was quite sure she knew who he was. Everyone here did. ‘I’m the CEO of Falcone Enterprises.’

‘Falcone...’ Recognition flashed in her eyes.

‘You’ve heard of me, then.’

‘Yes, in the bathroom just now.’ Lina bit her lip, looking both guilty and amused. ‘Two women were talking about you.’

‘Were they?’ Rico arched an eyebrow. ‘Women’s gossip in a bathroom—I can imagine what they said, and I assure you, it’s all true.’

Her eyes rounded. ‘All of it?’

Rico didn’t even hesitate. ‘All of it,’ he drawled, and Lina let out a hiccupping laugh. She had, he noticed, already finished her second glass of champagne.

‘They said you were cold. A heart of ice...’

‘Pejorative, but essentially true.’

‘Oh?’ Lina tilted her head, her eyes sparkling, a small smile curving her lush mouth. ‘How are you so cold, then?’

Rico took a sip of champagne, considering. ‘I’m matter-of-fact,’ he stated, deciding as always that bold honesty was by far the best policy. ‘I don’t dress up what is essentially a physical and very satisfying transaction.’ He met her curious and impish gaze with a direct challenge in his own eyes, and he watched with pleasure as colour flared in her cheeks and her lips parted soundlessly.

‘Do you mean...?’ she began, and Rico cut her off.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I do mean.’

She shook her head slowly, her pupils dilated, her cheeks still wonderfully pink. ‘They said something else in the bathroom.’

‘Did they?’ Although he affected a bored drawl he realised he was interested. He wanted to know what Lina had heard, what preconceptions she might have of him.

‘They said...they said...’ She licked her lips, making his libido take a little leap. ‘They said you were fabulous at sex.’ She let out a little laugh, seeming almost incredulous that she’d admitted such a thing. Rico’s mouth curved into a wicked smile.

‘Also true.’

She laughed again, shaking her head, seeming embarrassed, almost shy. Was it an act, a rather obvious and unneeded attempt to snag his interest? A woman didn’t pour herself into a sexy dress and try to gate-crash the party of the year without having some brash confidence and bold hopes.

‘So?’ Rico demanded in a low, sensual voice. He was tired of chitchat, of waiting. ‘Shall we go upstairs?’

‘Upstairs...’

‘To my suite. A bottle of champagne is waiting.’ It always was.

‘I... I don’t...’

Annoyance flickered through him. He didn’t have time for this. Rico stretched out one hand and slid his fingers through hers, enjoying the shower of sparks that fired through him at that slight touch. He’d made the right choice, he was sure of it. ‘Well?’ he murmured. ‘Are you coming...or not?’

CHAPTER TWO

HALINA COULDN’T THINK. From the moment Rico Falcone had rescued her from the box-ticking bouncer, she’d been ensnared. Bound body and mind by the sensual charisma of the man standing in front of her, so arrogant and self-assured and so very, very attractive.

She had limited experience of the opposite sex, and she had no experience whatsoever of the kind of man who stood in front of her now, one dark slash of an eyebrow arched, his mobile mouth curved into a smile of supreme self-confidence, his body radiating pure, muscular, sensual power.

‘Are you coming with me?’ he asked, and there was a note of challenge in his voice, as well as a hint of impatience. Halina hesitated. She shouldn’t go with him, of course, this man whom she knew, from both gossip and his own gorgeous mouth, was a cold womaniser. A man who was fabulous at sex.

Not that she had any intention of having sex with him, of course. Her virginity was a point of honour, as well as a prized asset. As a princess of a desert kingdom, her chastity was of utmost importance. She’d never even touched a man before tonight.

But why did this have to be about sex? All she wanted was to drink champagne, perhaps even be kissed...

It was hard to resist such a beguiling invitation. And he was quite the most perfect specimen of a man she’d ever seen—dark hair cut close, silvery grey eyes that flashed like sunlight on metal as he remained with his hand outstretched, fingertips gliding along hers, his tall and powerfully built body encased in a top-end tuxedo, the crisp white shirt and black fitted jacket the perfect foil for his dark hair and grey eyes, his swarthy skin.

From the corner of her eye Halina saw the two women she’d glimpsed in the bathroom shooting her speculative and frankly envious glances. No matter what they’d said to each other, they wanted this man...this man who, improbably, impossibly, seemed to want her.

‘Yes,’ she said, flinging the word out the way a knight would fling down a gauntlet. It felt like a challenge, a dare, completely reckless but also brave. ‘Yes, I will.’

‘Excellent.’ His fingers tightened on hers, causing a fizz of fireworks to go off in her belly. She was already feeling light-headed from two glasses of hastily drunk champagne, imbibed to steel her nerves. Now she felt utterly overwhelmed by the sheer, lunatic magic of the situation—she, the innocent Princess in her ivory tower being lured upstairs by the most magnetically sexual man in the world, never mind this room. And he wanted her.

Taking a deep breath, Halina followed Rico down the hall, away from the party, determined not to panic or even doubt herself. A little bit of flirting, another glass of champagne, maybe a kiss...and then she’d leave. Of course she would. And she wouldn’t think about her mother, or Abdul, the sleepy bodyguard, and certainly not her father the Sultan who would be both furious and heartbroken to know she’d dared to go this far, never mind what she might get up to once they were in Rico’s suite.

One night. One adventure. That was all she wanted, all she was asking for. Surely it wasn’t too much?

Rico stabbed the button for the lifts and the doors whooshed open. Still holding her by the hand, he drew her inside, then the doors closed and they were alone, soaring upwards.

‘So what made you decide to crash the party tonight?’ he asked in a lazy voice. Halina tried not to blush. So it had been obvious that she hadn’t had an invitation.

‘An impulse decision.’

‘Some of the best decisions are borne from impulse.’

‘Are yours?’ she asked. She was so nervous and hyper-aware of him that she wondered if he could see the hectic, urgent thud of her heart from beneath her dress. She resisted the urge to wipe her damp palms down its sides.

‘My impulses are borne of instinct,’ Rico answered. ‘So they’re always right.’

She laughed, incredulous and a little bit amused by his arrogance, despite her nerves. ‘Is there anything you’re insecure about?’

Something dark flashed across his face, so quickly that Halina almost missed it. She couldn’t decipher what it was. Then his expression evened out and he smiled, his lips curving, showing a flash of very white, very straight teeth. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘There isn’t.’

The doors opened straight into the penthouse suite of the hotel, the one her mother had demanded but which the concierge had regretfully informed her was already booked. What kind of man was Rico Falcone, that the hotel had turned away even a queen?

‘So, where’s this wonderful champagne?’ Halina asked as she stepped into the suite, her heels clicking the black marble floor. The space stretched on into the darkness, the only light coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.

Rico threw her a darkly amused glance. ‘Are you quite certain you want another glass?’

Surely he wasn’t going to treat her like a child? Halina lifted her chin. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I don’t want you drunk when I make love to you.’

Everything inside her trembled, her internal organs reduced to a plateful of jelly. ‘Who says you’re going to—to make love to me?’ Halina demanded with far more bravado than actual courage. An image slid through her mind like a sensuous snake—body entwined with body, candlelight gleaming off satin sheets—and a current of desire zinged through her, twanging all her senses, every nerve.

‘I do,’ Rico replied baldly as he retrieved a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver ice-bucket by a pair of white leather sofas. ‘Why else would you have come up here with me?’

Nerves clamoured in her belly. Was she in over her head? The answer was obvious—of course she was. Yet she didn’t want to leave. Not so soon, not yet. ‘For the champagne, of course,’ Halina quipped as she strolled through the sweeping living area of the suite towards the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Eternal City, its ancient, crumbling buildings now awash with moonlight.

‘At least on that I can oblige.’ With a satisfying pop he pulled the cork from the bottle and then filled two glasses right to the brim before handing one to Halina. She took a sip, relishing the crisp taste of bubbles on her tongue, and definitely needing the Dutch courage. What now?

‘You really shouldn’t be quite so arrogant,’ she said as she lowered the glass. Her palms were slick and her heart thudded but she managed to hold his sardonic gaze. Just.

‘Oh? Why shouldn’t I?’

His utter, unapologetic confidence stunned her. She admired it too, because although she knew she could seem confident to her school friends or sisters, playing to familiar crowds with her trademark drama and humour, when it came to the real world she had nothing on this man. Nothing at all.

‘It’s not a particularly appealing trait,’ she said at last.

‘I disagree.’

His self-assurance was like a brick wall, high and wide, impossible to cross or find a chink in. Still, for some perverse reason, she tried. ‘So you think it’s an asset? Being so ridiculously self-assured?’

He shrugged, as if the answer was so apparent the question should not have even been asked. ‘Of course.’

‘Why? How?’

‘Because there is a basis for it. I am the way I am because I know what I’m doing and, more importantly, I know what I want and I go after it.’ His eyes flashed, a glint of silver like moonlight flashing off the blade of a knife. ‘And do you know what I want right now, Lina?’

She swallowed. Hard. Excitement licked along her veins like the most dangerous fire. ‘What?’

‘You.’

Before she could form the words for a semi-coherent reply he’d crossed the room, swallowing up the space in a couple of strides, and plucked the champagne flute from her nerveless fingers. She opened her mouth to protest—she hadn’t finished her drink—but then his hands were on his shoulders, warm and so very sure, and he was kissing her.

Her very first kiss, and it felt like diving head-first into ice-cold water, a shock to her entire system. She stiffened underneath the onslaught of his persuasive mouth, the sudden intimacy of it, even as heat exploded in her centre and stars shot from behind her eyes. Her knees buckled and she felt Rico smile against her mouth as he gauged her obvious and overwhelming response to him.

She clutched at the slippery, satiny lapels of his tuxedo jacket, lost in the sensation of his mouth on hers. Were all kisses like this? Did you always feel as if you were drowning, caught up in a whirlpool of pleasure, every sense singing? She’d never experienced anything like it, and all she knew was that she wanted more. Much more.

Her mouth opened under his and she stood on her tiptoes, straining to reach more of him. Feel more of him. Her breasts pressed against his chest and created even more arrows of sensations sizzling through her, making her whole being burn.

Rico slid his hands from her shoulders to her waist, anchoring her against him so her hips nudged his and she felt the hard throb of his arousal against her, shocking her to her core and thrilling her too. Even she, in her innocence, knew what that was. As much as it thrilled her, it also made a ripple of terror go through her. What was she doing? And did she want to stop?

Rico spread his fingers across her hip, each lean digit creating a burn even through her dress as if he were branding her by his touch. She was so achingly conscious of every part of him, from the hard planes of his chest and thighs to the sure movement of his mouth and the delightful press of his hands. He was everywhere on her, yet she still wanted more, a delicious and insistent ache of need starting at her centre and spreading outwards, right to her fingertips.

She felt so much, she was afraid she might combust, burst into flames right in front of him. How did people experience this and live?

Then, quite suddenly, Rico tore his mouth from hers and took a step away, raking his hands through his hair before dropping them to his sides. Colour blazed along his blade-like cheekbones and his breathing was ragged. He was, it seemed, as affected as she was, or almost, and that was an incredible thought.

Halina’s knees wobbled and she grabbed onto a nearby table to steady herself. She felt the absence of him like a physical thing, everything in her all at once turning empty, cold and aching. For a little while she’d felt so gloriously alive. She couldn’t let it end so quickly. She couldn’t let it end at all.

Because she knew then, no matter how inexperienced and nervous she was, she wanted more. Needed it. She wasn’t done with Rico...and she prayed he wasn’t done with her.

* * *

Rico gazed at Lina thoughtfully, trying to ignore the hectic thud of his own heart. He’d been far more affected by her clumsy kisses than he liked to admit, even to himself. Even in love-making, in the highest heights of his pleasure, he kept his control. To lose it would be another form of weakness, one he despised. He would not be a slave to any emotion, whether it was love or its poorer but equally powerful cousin, lust. He’d decided that a long time ago, when he’d watched someone walk away from him and felt his heart break. Never again. Never again would he allow someone to break something inside him. He wouldn’t even allow himself to be affected...at all. Never would he give in to the weakest emotion of them all, the torment of love.

And as for Lina... He let his gaze sweep over her, noting her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her ink-dark, wavy hair falling in tumbling waves over her shoulders. Her breath shuddered through her, and artlessly she pressed one hand to her pounding heart. She was just as affected as he was, and she wasn’t even trying to hide it. He didn’t think it had even occurred to her to hide it, to hide anything, and that made her very different from the women he usually bedded.

Those women were beautiful and hard in a sharply glittering way, as determined to get his money as much as they were eager to get into his bed. He gave them pleasure, of that he was certain, but they didn’t respond as Lina just had—trembling and eager, unrestrained and artless, seeming to crave him just for him...which was an intoxicant in and of itself.

‘What is it?’ she asked, her voice a breathy whisper. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘How am I looking at you?’

‘As if I’m a puzzle you’re trying to solve.’

He laughed; he couldn’t help himself. She was absolutely right and he wasn’t used to that kind of perception, especially from a potential bed partner. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That is how I’m looking at you. You intrigue me, Lina.’ More than she should. He didn’t want to be interested in the women he bedded, beyond their capabilities in that particular department.

Yet something about Lina, her utterly unrestrained response, made him pause. And then wonder. Because, he realised, she seemed the one thing he felt he’d never been, at least not since he’d been nine years old and realised that promises could be broken and dreams shattered. Easily.

What had given him pause just now was that Lina seemed innocent. And innocence was a quality in his bed partners he definitely did not want. He’d had enough dreams broken not to want to break anyone else’s, which was why he was so upfront about his relationships, if he could even call the sexual transactions he enjoyed such a thing.

‘I don’t think I’m that complicated, really,’ she said on a laugh, but the sound wobbled and she bit her lip, increasing Rico’s curiosity...and his unease. Why was she acting as if this was all so new to her?

‘Tell me what you were doing tonight at the party,’ he said abruptly. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change of subject.

‘Trying to get into it,’ she answered with a shrug. ‘I didn’t have an invitation, as you realised.’

‘Do you do that often? Try to crash parties you aren’t invited to?’

‘Not...that often,’ Halina said, keeping his gaze, but clearly with effort.

‘But why that party?’ Rico pressed. ‘And why did you want to get into it so badly?’

A frown crinkled her forehead and something flashed in her eyes, something like unease. She was hiding something. But what? He’d already assumed she was a gold-digging mistress-in-expectation. What could she possibly be hiding that would bother him?

‘Why not that party?’ she challenged. ‘It looked fun.’

‘Were you hoping to meet someone in particular?’

She shrugged. ‘I was hoping to have fun.’

Rico swung away from her, annoyed as much with himself for pressing the point as he was with her for her non-answers. What did he care why she’d shown up tonight or what her motives were? What did he care at all? He never had before. And he wouldn’t now.

She was here in his suite for a reason. When she’d kissed him, as clumsily as she had, it had been with a genuine, eager desire. She was willing and so was he. That was all that mattered, surely?

And yet...it was almost as if she’d never been kissed before. She’d been so unrestrained, so open, and it had been that seeming innocence that had enflamed him. Yet surely she couldn’t be as innocent as all that? Surely she wouldn’t be in his suite now if she was?

‘I’ve drunk all my champagne.’

Rico turned to see Lina clutching her glass, a determined tilt to her chin. She held it out and after a second’s pause he reached for the bottle and poured her another glass, the fizz foaming over the top and onto her hand. She laughed and licked off the droplets, a move that seemed as thoughtless and uncomplicated as everything else she did. If it had been another woman, the kind of woman he was used to, he would have thought it a planned part of an attempt to ensnare him. Not that he could ever be ensnared.

‘Cin cin,’ she said again, a note of defiant bravado in her voice, and she lifted her glass to drink. Rico watched her, noting the sinuous movement of her throat as she swallowed, wondering yet again what was making him hesitate.

‘Cin cin,’ he answered automatically, even though he’d discarded his glass already. Slowly Lina lowered her glass, her eyes wide and dark above the rim as she stared at him.

‘I... I should probably go now,’ she said, and that surprised him even more. Was she playing hard to get? Or did she really mean it? And should he let her, considering how uneasy this whole exchange was making him feel? He felt strangely reluctant to watch her walk away, which was irritating and alarming in itself.

‘Do you want to go?’ he asked starkly.

She paused, her tongue darting out to dab a drop of champagne sparkling on her lips. Her gaze was wondering and transfixed as she slowly, so slowly, shook her head. ‘No...no, I don’t. But I probably should.’

‘Should? Why?’

‘Because you’re a dangerous man, Rico Falcone.’ She set the glass on a side table. ‘And you’re way out of my league.’

More honesty that took him by surprise. He wasn’t used to such unvarnished truth. ‘I’m not so dangerous if you know what to expect.’

‘Which is?’

‘A wonderful time and then a farewell.’ He was absolute about that. He would never be left again, never watch someone walk away, leaving his heart in pieces. No, he would watch whomever it was walk away, a smile on his face because he was in control. He was always in control.

‘Ah.’ She nodded slowly. ‘Just like the women said.’

‘Those women in the bathroom?’

‘The very same.’

He walked towards her, a long, loose-limbed, lazy stroll. ‘Forewarned is forearmed, or so they say.’

‘They said you kicked women out of your bed in rather indecent haste.’

‘I suppose it depends on whom you ask.’

He stood in front of her so he could feel the heat coming off her, the desire. Her body trembled. He felt as if they were both on the edge of a glorious precipice; all it would take was for one of them to take that first tumbling step.

‘I really should go.’ Her voice was soft.

‘Don’t play games with me, Lina.’ He met her gaze; her lids were half-lowered in dark challenge. ‘I abhor any kind of dishonesty. If you want to go, go.’ He swept one arm towards the lift. She didn’t move, and if she had he didn’t know what he would have done. Stopped her? Persuaded her to stay in any way that he could? Maybe. Probably.

But Lina stayed still, her gaze darting from the lift back to him. ‘This is madness,’ she whispered.

‘Why?’

‘Because...because I don’t even know you. And you don’t know me.’

‘We know enough.’

‘For you, maybe.’ She closed her eyes briefly. He had the sense that she was battling with herself, and he wondered why it was such a momentous decision. She’d come to the party. She’d come upstairs. Was she going to cling to some outdated remnant of morality now? Still, it felt bizarrely important not to push her. This would be a decision she’d make on her own, though God help them both if she walked away now.

Then Lina opened her eyes. Stared him straight in the face. Took a deep breath and spoke. ‘I’m staying.’

CHAPTER THREE

HALINA WASN’T SO innocent that she didn’t know what she was agreeing to. Her heart tumbled in her chest and excitement zinged through her veins because, no matter how crazy this was, how nervous she felt, she wanted this. A lifetime of humble obedience and duty to her royal family and it had all shattered to broken pieces with Prince Zayed’s foolish, desperate act. She would not marry him now; she might not marry anyone. So why not take one night? One night for herself, for pleasure? She’d deal with the consequences later. Maybe she’d be lucky and there wouldn’t be any.

‘Are you sure?’ Rico’s dark gaze searched hers, his voice a rumble in his chest. Halina had the feeling it was not a question he asked often. Did he know how innocent she was? Had he any idea that he was her first kiss, her first everything? Halina had no intention of telling him. She had a gut instinct that such lack of experience would horrify and perhaps even repel him. She wasn’t like his usual women. Even in her inexperience, she knew that.

‘Yes, I’m sure.’ The words trembled through her and part of her, quite a large part, wondered what on earth she was doing. Losing her innocence, her prized virginity, to a man who had made it clear he had no expectations, no desires, beyond sex. Fabulous sex.

But perhaps that was better. This didn’t have to be complicated. There would be no entanglements. And after a lifetime of waiting she wanted, needed, something finally to happen. To be the author of her own destiny, if only for an evening. Even if it ultimately led to heartbreak, or at least disappointment.

‘Lina.’ Rico’s voice was rough. ‘If you’re sure, come here.’ Her eyes widened but then she obeyed, walking towards him on trembling legs so she was standing before him. ‘Take off your dress.’

Her heart was thudding so hard it hurt. Was he really going to ask her to do that right now? She swallowed hard and Rico’s gaze seemed to burn into hers, his eyes like molten silver as he waited for her to obey his command.

‘Well?’ One eyebrow lifted arrogantly. This was a test, a dare; if she didn’t do it, he would call her bluff. Accuse her of inexperience, and maybe even send her away. Taking a deep breath, her gaze never leaving his, Halina reached behind her and tugged the zip down her dress.

As the dress slithered off her shoulders, leaving her bare to the waist—her breasts encased in a serviceable white bra rather than the sexy lingerie she would have preferred—Halina could hardly credit she was doing this. Was it the champagne that lent the recklessness to the moment, or was it the urgency she felt? Or was it the man himself, Rico Falcone, his body radiating the most powerful sexual charisma Halina had ever experienced?

The dress pooled around her waist and Halina lifted her chin, resisting the impulse to cover herself. ‘Well?’ she demanded, and thankfully her voice didn’t waver. ‘Take off your shirt.’

With a low husk of laughter, Rico undid his tie and then the studs of his tuxedo shirt, tossing them aside heedlessly so they clattered onto the marble floor. He shrugged out of his jacket and shirt so his chest was bare and magnificent, his skin gleaming like bronze satin stretched over powerful muscles, the dark hair sprinkling his impressive chest veeing down to the waistband of his black trousers.

‘Touch me,’ he said softly, and it felt more like a plea than a command, surprising her, because for a moment Rico Falcone didn’t seem arrogant. Gently she placed her hand on his chest, the dark, crisp hairs a sensual abrasion against her palm. His skin was warm, the muscles hard and flexed, and she felt the steady thud of his heart beneath her palm.

Rico encircled her wrist with his fingers, holding her hand there, against him. Neither of them spoke; the only sound was the ragged draw and tear of their breathing. Halina had never felt so close to a human being before, connected in a way that felt both intimate and intense.

Rico’s fingers tightened on her wrist, and then he drew her slowly towards him so her hips and breasts pressed against him. The feel of his body in such close contact with hers made a thrill run through her, as if a live wire ran right through her centre and Rico’s touch was the electric current.

He dipped his head, his mouth hovering over hers, their breaths mingled, everything suspended. Halina’s eyes fluttered closed, waiting for his kiss, but then she opened them again when he remained where he was, his lips barely brushing hers.

‘Rico...?’

Whatever he saw in her questioning gaze seemed to satisfy him, for in one swift movement he drew her even more closely to him, his hands on her hips, shrugging her dress down to her ankles as his mouth plundered hers with soft yet determined persuasion.

Halina brought her hands up to his head, her fingers threaded through his short, dark hair, her nails grazing his skull as she surrendered herself, body and soul, to that one endless kiss that demanded everything from her.

Her mind was a blur of sensation as Rico backed her towards the corridor that led to the suite’s bedrooms; she stepped out of her dress, stumbling slightly in her unfamiliar heels, and when she did he swept her up in his arms as if she were an armful of feathers and, with her curled against his chest, he strode into the bedroom.

The room was swathed in shadows and moonlight as Rico laid her on the bed. She was dressed only in her stockings and plain bra and pants, and she felt shy but not uncertain as she lay sprawled on the black silken sheets for his thorough inspection.

And inspect he did, standing above her as he slowly unbuckled his trousers and then shucked them off so he wore nothing but a pair of navy silk boxer shorts that did little to hide the impressive evidence of his masculinity.

‘You are very beautiful.’ The words were stark and sincerer because of it. Rico was not a man to flatter; he was merely stating a fact. And Lina could tell by the silver blaze of his eyes that he meant every simple word.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. Rico stretched out alongside her, the sinewy muscles of his body rippling with the easy movement. Halina held her breath as he hooked his fingers around the edge of her tights and tugged them downwards.

Her breath came out in a restless shudder as the tips of his fingers brushed against her sensitive core, igniting sensations she’d barely felt before. He tugged the tights lower, down her thighs, leaving fiery trails of sensation wherever his fingers brushed until he’d got rid of them completely and tossed them aside.

He loomed above her, his hands braced by her shoulders and his knees on either side of her hips. She felt caged by his body, but it felt protective rather than threatening, thrilling in a way she could barely articulate even to herself. She had no idea what he was going to do next.

Then he lowered his mouth and pressed a kiss to her navel, his tongue flicking inside her belly button and making her cry out in surprised pleasure. The cry turned to a moan as his mouth moved lower. Surely he wasn’t going to...?

But he was. His breath fanned hotly on her underwear before he hooked his finger through the top of it and slid it down her legs so it went the way of her tights. She was bare and exposed before him, and it made her both tense and strain in expectation, incredulous and waiting, a little bit embarrassed and yet so eager.

Her body arched off the bed as he pressed his mouth to her centre, the feeling so intimately invasive that her mind blurred into nothing but sensation. His tongue flicked among her folds, seeming to know exactly what touch and pressure would make her writhe mindlessly, her body attuned to the exquisite pressure building within her.

‘Rico.’ His name was a moan, a plea. Her hips bucked with the restless ache inside her that she desperately needed to be assuaged. ‘Rico.’

He lifted his head, laughing softly, and then he slid his hands under her bottom, lifting her up so he had even greater access to her most intimate self. She felt too crazed with desire and need now to feel embarrassed or exposed, wanting only more from him.

And he gave it, his mouth plundering her centre until she felt as if she were shattering inside, breaking apart into glittering pieces, her hips arching under his knowing touch as her cries rent the still, taut air.

She’d never known anything like it, had never had such an experience so intimate, so intense, so overwhelming.

Rico rolled on top of her, braced on his forearms, his breathing ragged. ‘Is it safe?’ he demanded in a ragged voice and Halina blinked up at him, still dazed by an experience she could only describe as completely life-changing.

Safe? What, she wondered hazily, was safe about this? She was risking everything, including her very soul, by being here with him. It wasn’t remotely safe. But she sensed that if she said as much Rico would exercise the incredible self-control she instinctively knew he had and roll off her, tell her to go. Their night would be over, and she couldn’t bear the thought.

‘Yes, it’s safe.’

With a grim smile of satisfaction curving his features, Rico nodded, then Halina gasped as she felt him start to slide inside her. Her fingernails pierced his shoulders as she braced herself for what felt like a complete onslaught, an invasion of everything she was.

Before she could accept the discomfort and adjust to it, Rico stopped. His expression was one of complete and utter astonishment.

‘You are a virgin?’

* * *

She couldn’t be. Rico gritted his teeth, sweat breaking out on his brow as he held himself above Lina, calling on every shred of self-control he had to keep himself from sinking inside her velvety depths as he longed to do.

Lina looked up at him, her face pale, her eyes defiant. ‘What does it matter if I am?’

Matter? He didn’t deflower virgins. He didn’t corrupt innocents. Having been heartbreakingly naive once himself, he had no desire to rip away the veil of innocence from someone else. Yet here he was, poised to do just that. If he was being completely honest with himself, he’d ignored every neon warning sign that had been flashing at him tonight, every obvious example of the evidence of her innocence and inexperience. Her total naivety.

‘It matters,’ he gritted out and, though it felt like the worst form of torture, he started to withdraw from her welcoming, silken entrance.

‘No.’ Lina hooked her legs around his hips, pulling him back inside her. Her expression was fierce, her eyes bright with determination. ‘You can’t ruin me without fulfilling your side of the bargain.’

He let out a choked laugh, every muscle straining as they engaged in this absurd, exquisite push and pull. ‘My side of the bargain?’

‘You said you were going to make love to me, Rico,’ she stated fiercely. ‘So do it.’ And with that she wrapped her legs more tightly around his waist and pulled him deeper into her, wincing as she did so, but not hesitating for a second.

Rico muttered a curse as he sank deep inside her, his mind going hazy with the incredible feel of her body wrapped around his. His instinct was still to withdraw, to roll away from her and send her from the room. A virgin. A disaster.

Yet the tightly held shreds of his control were disintegrating under the welcoming heat of her body, and with a groan he surrendered to her, knowing she was the victor as their bodies began to move in that ancient, harmonious rhythm.

The least he could do for her was bring her back to that dazzling precipice, even as he climbed towards its heights. Rico watched in satisfaction as her face softened with pleasure, her eyes unfocused, pupils dilated, her breath coming out in a shuddery rush as her body convulsed around his. Then, and only then, did he find his own satisfaction, releasing himself inside her with a final groan of surrender.

For several moments afterwards his mind blurred and blanked as the last aftershocks of his climax pulsed through him. He rolled off her onto his back, one arm thrown over his eyes. Regret lanced him, a sword he threw himself on with bitterness—because he knew better. Of course he did.

He’d lost his self-control, he’d thrown it away with both hands, and for what? A single moment of pleasure? A damning need? He hated the thought. He didn’t need anyone. He wouldn’t let himself.

‘Why,’ he gritted out, his arm still over his eyes, ‘did you come up to my hotel suite if you are—were—a virgin?’

She shifted next to him, pulling a sheet across her body. ‘What does one thing have to do with the other?’

‘You knew what I intended. I made it very clear, for a reason.’

‘Yes.’ She sounded calm and a little resigned, but not particularly regretful. Rico removed his arm from his eyes and turned to stare at her. Her face was rosy and flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes bright. She looked... She almost looked happy. He didn’t understand it at all.

‘Did you intend for this to happen?’ he asked incredulously. ‘Was that why you were waiting outside the party? Were you waiting for me?’

‘Not for you in particular.’

His ego took a surprised bruising at that honest statement. ‘So any man would have done?’

She bit her lip, her gaze sliding away from his. ‘That sounds awful.’

‘But that’s what you’re saying?’ He felt outraged, even though he knew it was ridiculous. He’d had that very attitude countless times. He preferred that attitude...in himself. And one thing he was not was a hypocrite. Yet here he was, feeling offended by her honesty.

‘No, that’s not what I am saying.’ Lina’s eyes flashed and she scrambled up to a sitting position, her lush breasts on glorious display. She had the most amazing figure—curvy and womanly and round. Just looking at her made Rico ache all over again. Virgin or not, Lina still enflamed him.

She pulled the sheet up, wrapping it around herself as she glared at him, her chin tilted at a defiant angle. ‘What does it matter to you?’ she demanded. ‘According to those women back in the bathroom, you should be showing me the door right about now.’

‘Is that what you want?’ Rico hurled back at her. He didn’t even know why he was so angry, only that he was.

‘It’s what I expected. And wasn’t that what this was all about? You warned me, Rico, about how little I could expect from you. Now it seems I’m getting more than I bargained for.’ And she didn’t sound very happy about it.

Rico stared at her in fury, wondering why he didn’t just let her go. She was acting exactly the way he should want, but something compelled him to keep her here. He wanted answers. He also wanted her.

‘It’s different,’ he ground out. ‘Since you’re a virgin.’

Lina rolled her eyes. ‘That’s my business, not yours.’

‘You should have told me.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I never would have slept with you then!’

‘And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.’

She was impossible. Rico rolled up to a sitting position and yanked on his trousers. A sudden thought occurred to him, terrible and profound. ‘You said it was safe.’ From behind him Lina didn’t say a word and slowly Rico turned around. ‘I asked you if you were on birth control...’

Her eyes widened a fraction and she hitched the sheet higher. ‘That wasn’t actually what you asked.’

‘I asked if it was safe!’

‘Which could mean something completely different.’

Cold dread swirled in his stomach, along with an anger fiercer than he’d ever felt before. ‘Most women, when in the intimate situation we were in, would know precisely what that meant.’ He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Are you saying you’re not on birth control?’ Why would she be, if she was a virgin? Unless she’d taken it with the express purpose of losing her virginity tonight. The thought seemed so bizarre he didn’t know what to do with it. ‘Tell me you’re on birth control.’

Lina shrugged, her ink-dark hair sliding about her shoulders. ‘Fine. I’m on birth control.’

‘You’re lying.’

‘You asked me to tell you—’

Rico swore loudly and viciously. ‘I didn’t mean for you to lie.’ He raked a hand through his hair, his fingers pulling on the short strands, frustration now matching his fury and confusion. ‘Lina, I don’t understand you.’

‘You don’t need to.’

He knew she was right, and that infuriated him all the more. He should just send her away. By this point in an evening, usually he would already be in the shower, expecting his bed partner, whoever she was, to be finding her own way out. What was so different now?

‘If you’re not on birth control, you could be pregnant.’ Lina lifted her chin another notch and said nothing. ‘Damn it, Lina, that’s a rather major issue, don’t you think?’

A muscle flinched in her cheek. ‘It’s not your concern.’

‘It is very much my concern,’ Rico returned in a low, dangerous voice, certainty thrumming inside him. He would never abandon his own child, as he had once been abandoned. He would die first. ‘If you are pregnant with my child, it is my paramount concern.’

Her face paled and she blinked slowly, seeming to absorb that statement. Rico shook his head, impatient as well as furious. ‘Did it not even occur to you that you could become pregnant?’

‘Not exactly.’ She bit her lip. ‘I wasn’t thinking about that just then.’

‘Then why on earth did you say it was safe? Did you lie on purpose?’

‘I... I didn’t understand what you meant.’ Colour crept into her face and she looked away.

Rico stared at her incredulously. ‘What did you think I meant, then?’

‘I don’t know.’ Her voice rose in agitation. ‘I wasn’t thinking at all, to be honest.’

‘Neither was I,’ Rico returned grimly, hating that it was true. What a mess. And he had no one to blame but himself. He should have realised how naive she was. She’d given him plenty of clues.

Sitting in his bed, wrapped in his sheet, her hair everywhere, her eyes wide and her face pale, she looked very young and incredibly vulnerable. How could he have thought for a moment that she was experienced, a woman of the world? She was anything but.

‘How old are you?’ he asked abruptly and she gave him a look of scorn.

‘Twenty-two, so you have no worries on that score.’

‘Still—’

‘I’m not your problem, Rico.’

‘But you could be—’ His words were cut off by a sudden buzzing. Lina looked at him questioningly.

‘It’s the lift,’ he explained tersely. ‘The doors lock automatically, since it opens right into the suite.’ The buzzing sounded again, insistent. Whoever was in the lift wanted to get in. Who the hell was trying to find him now?

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.