Читать книгу One Night: Sizzling Attraction: Married for Amari's Heir / Damaso Claims His Heir / Her Secret, His Duty - Annie West - Страница 11
ОглавлениеROCCO AMARI WAS a bastard. In every sense of the word. He’d been aware of that from an early age. From the time he’d first been teased by other neighborhood children for not having a father to the moment he’d watched his mother, a grim look of wounded pride on her face, accept money from an employee of the man who’d sired him, to help them keep the modest house they called home. Provided they never made contact with him.
Yes, he had known, then and always, that he was nothing more than an illegitimate child born to a rich man’s unwanted mistress. And as time had gone on he had learned that playing the part of the bastard in the colloquial sense served a man well in his ascent to success.
Though, in his case, the role had become his reality. There was no place in his life for conscience, no place for compassion. He had learned, long ago, that a man had to look out for himself because when push came to shove no one else would.
Venture capital was not the sort of business that lent itself to being sentimental or soft. Yes, it was about building businesses, but you had to be willing to cut dead branches. And Rocco was more than willing.
A man had to protect what was his, because other men wouldn’t hesitate to try and claim it for themselves.
And given that he was a bastard, and given that he took a dim view of compassion, he found himself irritated by the fact that the conscience he had no place for felt seared by his encounter with Charity Wyatt.
He had never meant for it to go so far.
The plan had been to bring her into the hotel room, strip her bare, humiliate her and leave. Perhaps, not an overly sympathetic plan, but nowhere in his planning had he imagined he would actually... No. Trading sex for his stolen money had never been a part of the plan. Yes, he had intended to flirt with the line. He had always intended to do that. But Charity was a thief, and in his mind she was just lucky he didn’t believe in more medieval forms of punishment.
But things had not gone according to his plan. He had lost control.
Which was, perhaps, the most unforgivable part about it.
The rest he could have forgiven himself for. But not the loss of control.
By taking her to his room, by commanding her to strip, by making her beg for him, he had been proving to her that she was in over her head. That he commanded the situation, as he did all things. But her rich, dark eyes had met him in challenge as she’d taken the expensive, overtly sexual clothing off her body, revealing the perfection beneath. And something had flipped. He had not proven his control. She had broken it. Yes, he was certain he had humiliated her, but at what cost? At what cost to his own pride?
It had been nearly two months since their encounter, yet at night he still woke up drenched in a cold sweat, dreaming of soft delicate fingertips trailing down his stomach. Of rich, dark curls spread out over his chest. Coal-black eyes looking up at him with wonder.
It was the wonder that got him. Because it wasn’t anything he had never seen before. Certainly, women had looked at him with desire, with satisfaction, but never with the kind of awe he had seen in Charity’s eyes. And he knew why.
He clenched his hand into a fist. He shouldn’t care. What did it matter if a woman had made love to a hundred men, or one? It didn’t. It shouldn’t. Not to a man like him.
And yet it mattered.
It made his sin feel that much greater, when he didn’t wish to feel as though he had sinned at all. Normally, he lived his life exactly the way he chose to, conducting affairs with women as he saw fit, spending his money as he chose, drinking as much as he desired. He didn’t answer to anyone, least of all the archaic idea of black-and-white morality. Life on the streets of Rome had taught him early on that morality was only for the middle class.
Those who had nothing couldn’t afford it, and those with billions could pay to bypass it.
And yet here he was, regretting a sexual encounter with all the guilt of a choir boy. Concerning himself over the virginity of a woman who had been far from innocent regardless of her past sexual experience.
It was unacceptable as far as he was concerned. As it was unacceptable that the woman was still taking up so much space in his mind. It was also unacceptable that he was still without his money.
He had not intended to let her off the hook on that score, either.
But as he had deviated from his plan, he had yet to regroup and decide what he would do now.
He could not pursue prosecution now. As he had promised absolution in exchange for sex. However, he’d never intended to actually have sex with her.
But he had. And that limited his options.
That damned conscience again. Where the hell had it come from? He should have no qualms about either one of those things.
His intercom buzzed and he pressed it, annoyance coursing through his veins. “What?”
“Mr. Amari—” his secretary, Nora, sounded harried “—there is a woman here who refuses to leave.”
Rocco gritted his teeth. This was not the first time, nor, he imagined, would it be the last. It was either Elizabeth, a woman he’d ended his association with a little over three months ago, or it was someone entirely random, hoping to fill the currently vacant position of mistress in his life.
Too bad for whoever it was he didn’t enjoy being pursued. He liked to be the one directing the pursuit.
“Tell her I am in no mood.”
“I did. She is still sitting here.”
“Then have security remove her.”
“I thought I should call you before I resorted to that,” Nora said, her tone conveying that she found the idea of having a woman forcibly removed from the building distasteful. He didn’t find it distasteful in the least. If she didn’t want to be carted out, then she should have obeyed the command to leave in the first place.
“Next time don’t bother. Have security remove her as a matter of course. You have my permission.”
He heard a muffled shout, and response from Nora. She must have put her hand over the receiver. And then she was back. “Mr. Amari, she says her name is Charity Wyatt, and she says you will want to see her.”
His blood ran cold. Rage following closely, thawing out the ice.
He didn’t want to see Charity Wyatt unless it was in hell.
Of course, in many ways he felt he was already there. Put there by his very own fallen angel. Who had now crawled back into the pit to pay him a visit.
“Send her up,” he said, shutting off the intercom. He would regret this. And yet, he couldn’t resist the temptation. To see her one more time. To shove her skirt up around her hips and take her again, bent over his desk this time. To prove that she was just as helpless in the face of this attraction as he was. Prove that he wasn’t weak.
He stood from behind his desk and began to pace the room, pausing as soon as he heard a knock on the door. A timid knock. Clearly, Charity Wyatt was not quite so defiant as she had been the last time they met.
She wasn’t defiant for long. She melted quickly enough beneath your touch.
He gritted his teeth and willed his body back into submission. “Come in.”
The door opened, and the sight that greeted him was a surprise. It was Charity, but not as he had ever seen her before. Gone was the beautiful, sleek siren he had taken to bed in the hotel suite. Instead, standing in front of him was a woman wearing black pants and a T-shirt. Her dark wavy hair was pulled back into a ponytail that looked as if it would suit a schoolgirl better than a woman in her early twenties.
The only makeup she appeared to be wearing was a smear of gloss over her lips, the rest of her face bare. There were dark circles under her eyes, as though she hadn’t slept.
One thing was certain; she was not here to conduct a seduction.
He fought against the hard punch of disappointment that slammed into his gut. He shouldn’t care. He would listen to whatever it was she had to say, and go out and find the nearest socialite and drag her back to his penthouse.
That was his problem. He had been working himself into the ground since his encounter with Charity, and he had not had a chance to be with anyone in the time since. Nearly two months was far too long for a man like him.
Still standing there looking wide-eyed and wounded, she made his gut twist hard. She was not supposed to be here, this woman who had destroyed his control.
He needed her gone.
“Well, obviously you aren’t here to screw me. Which makes me feel very short on patience,” he said. “You had better speak quickly.”
She met his gaze, completely unintimidated by his attempt at scaring her away. “I am certainly not here to... That,” she said, her tone haughty.
He let out a heavy sigh, looking down at the paperweight on his desk. Straightening it before looking at her again. “I find myself growing more impatient. Either get on your knees for me or get out.”
“There are no circumstances on earth that would find me on my knees for you. Not begging you, not pleasuring you. That is my firm promise.”
Anger cut through his veins like a knife. “We will see about that, or do you forget that I hold your future in my hands?”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and tilted her head to the side, that ridiculous ponytail tilting with her, glossy dark curls sweeping over her shoulders. “Before you start making threats you should know that I carry your future in my womb.”
* * *
Charity hadn’t meant to impart the news quite that way.
She had intended to come over slightly more vulnerable. That was the entire point behind coming in her waitressing outfit. The entire point to not dressing up, to show him the way that she really lived.
Maybe it was stupid to try and engender his sympathy, for a second time, but she needed him to understand that she wasn’t living large with his money. Because his money was exactly what she needed.
For her new life. For her.
For the baby.
It was still so surreal. More surreal than sleeping with a stranger at all, was the realization that she had created a life with one. That there would be a person on earth who would share DNA that belonged in part to her, and in part to him. It didn’t seem fair, really. Not to her, not to the child. She didn’t much care if it was fair to Rocco.
There were certain things she could never provide for a child, not with her income. And really, she shouldn’t be ashamed. This was a sacrifice of her pride, to ensure that her child was taken care of. To ensure the child had everything it deserved.
She didn’t want him to play the part of daddy, and try to make a happy family with her. Far from it. She just needed his money.
But, she felt she had a legitimate claim on it, considering.
She ignored the slight jab in her conscience that reminded her she had already taken some of his money.
But I don’t have it. And so neither will the baby.
She needed the baby to have it. Otherwise, what could she offer? It was either life with the server’s wages, or life that looked a lot like hers had when she’d been growing up. Moving from place to place, running cons.
She didn’t want that for her child. She wanted better. She wanted the best. She wanted to try and figure out how to be a good mother. She wanted to figure out how to be something other than a thief.
It had been nearly thirty seconds since she had dropped her bombshell, and Rocco still hadn’t spoken. Charity didn’t feel obligated to fill the silence. He deserved to feel the same shock she had felt when she had taken the test. When she had seen the little pink lines that had changed everything.
Yes, they had used a condom, but she knew enough to know that they did fail sometimes. And anyway, no amount of arguing that point with the universe would take back what had been done.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel she was being punished for the way she’d handled things. Had she refused him, she would simply be in jail rather than expecting a baby.
That thought almost made her laugh. Just because it was so absurd. Just because she could hardly feel any regrets over sidestepping prison. No matter what else had happened since.
In some ways, she had arrived in a hopeful place about the baby. That this would be a true stepping-stone into something different. Into a different life.
“Was that your way of making an announcement?” Rocco finally spoke, his tone hard.
“I suppose it was. That wasn’t exactly the plan, but then I didn’t expect you to be so horrible. I suppose that was my first mistake. We have met after all.”
“We used protection,” he said, the words cold. Blunt.
“Yes, and I did speak to the universe about that when I realized my period was late. However, it didn’t seem to care.”
“How do I know you didn’t rush out and bed the first man you found after we parted? A little bit of revenge? Trying to pass his baby off as mine?”
Charity embraced the genuine, righteous anger that burned through her. “How dare you? You, who blackmailed me into sex. You took my virginity in payment for money my father stole, money that I never touched.” That much was true. She’d never had her hands on the money for a moment. “You are every inch the villain in this scenario, Rocco Amari. I will not lie down and take these accusations. I will not allow you to stand there looking superior when the simple fact is you all but forced me into having sex with you, and you don’t deserve to comment on my character when you were the one who led things between us.”
Rocco drew back as though he had been slapped. But when he recovered, she could feel the rage radiating from him in waves. “Perhaps I did some of those things. But I did not force you into bed. Do not deny that in the end you begged for me. You said yes. Yes please. And I gave you what you wanted.”
She looked away, her cheeks heating. “I was a virgin. It was never going to take much to make me lose my head. I wouldn’t let it go to your ego.” She needed him to feel responsible. And she needed him to feel annoyed. So he would get rid of her, but also offer her money.
“You cannot play the victim now. I would never have gone so far with you had you not asked.”
“Are you honestly going to say that you didn’t intend for it to end in sex?”
He paused, his dark eyes flat, his jaw clenched tight. “I did not. All I really wanted was for you to beg. But you were much more convincing than I anticipated.”
The admission seemed to cost him, and she had no idea why. If it should hurt anyone to hear that, it was her.
She had overpaid. And now, she would keep on paying.
She gritted her teeth. “Don’t forget you begged, too.”
“I didn’t have to beg for long, did I?”
“I hate you,” she said, and she found she meant every word, even though she was speaking it as part of her role. As part of the indignant, downtrodden waitress who found herself alone and pregnant.
That’s exactly what you are.
She swallowed hard, her throat tightening, genuine emotion overwhelming her. “What have you done to us?” she asked.
“Inexperience will not cover your actions in this. Do not put the blame on me entirely.”
“Oh, you don’t want all the blame? Then perhaps you shouldn’t swan around as though you are the God of the universe. You cannot be both all-powerful and without fault. You threatened me, you made me feel as though I had to fall into line or I would be put in jail. Yes, I acknowledge that in the end I consented. But had I not been coerced in the first place I would never have been in your room. Obviously, I have spent my life staying away from men’s hotel rooms, and yours would have been no exception.”
“Fine. I was an absolute monster. Is that what you want to hear? Does that ease your pain? It shouldn’t, as it doesn’t change the situation.”
“I’m surprised you would admit to the fact that you’re a monster,” she said, anger pouring through her.
“Being considered a nice man has never been a concern of mine. I don’t particularly care whether or not I acted with the highest moral standards. That is not what drives me. I wanted success. I have achieved it. And I will keep it. Everything else is incidental. I will have what’s mine, and that is my utmost concern.”
“I can’t get you your money back. I don’t know where my father is. If I did, count on it, I would be the first person to turn him in. I’m not protecting him. I’m not that self-sacrificial. In fact, I’m not self-sacrificial at all. I slept with you to keep myself out of trouble because you wouldn’t listen to me. I would have turned him in to you a thousand times over to avoid that.” The only problem with turning her father in was that he would talk. And then her proclamations of innocence wouldn’t mean much anymore. Because he would confirm her involvement and she didn’t want that. Even though Rocco didn’t believe her innocence she couldn’t bring herself to confess her guilt, either.
“All of this is beside the point,” he said, waving his hand, as though to brush her concerns out of the air as if they were nothing more important or substantial than cobwebs. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to give you the chance to know about the baby. Because I wanted to give you the chance to make a choice about whether or not you wanted to be in its life.”
He only stared at her, dark eyes flat. “And what part would you expect me to play in the life of a child?”
“The part of father I would imagine, as that is the role you played in its conception.” He wouldn’t accept it. And she knew it. But she had to ask. She’d never known her mother, and her father had been distant. She would give Rocco this chance.
But he would turn it down. And she would be grateful. Because while she needed to give him a chance to be involved with his child, the last thing she wanted was for him to have any involvement with her.
Beyond the financial support he would no doubt offer, and which she and her baby would desperately need.
“I would not know the first thing about being a father. I didn’t have one.”
“Well, I don’t have a mother, and yet it seems I’m about to become one. Apparently, lacking a particular parent isn’t an effective form of birth control. Who knew?”
“I do not see why you would want me to participate in the child’s life.”
She was surprised by the depth of anger she felt when he said those words. Surprised by the deep, elemental rage that started down low in her stomach and flowed outward. Because she was only just wrapping her head around this motherhood thing, and that she should have an instinct, of any kind, was shocking. Especially because her ultimate goal was definitely not to have him involved.
But hearing him say it—it affected something in her she hadn’t even known was there. It cut too close to the bone. Too close to her own childhood. So full of indifference, abandonment, regret...
She gritted her teeth. “Then don’t. But you will pay child support. I’m not raising your child in poverty while you eat in fine dining establishments and...and...prop your feet up in your giant Italian villa.”
“I most certainly will pay child support. If it is mine.”
“It is yours. I haven’t been with another man. Ever. My first time was in your godforsaken hotel suite, and it was my only time.” She swallowed hard. “And you know that. I know you do. You, on the other hand, have been with so many women I bet you don’t even know the official number. I made sure to get a panel done when I went in for my blood test to confirm the pregnancy. To make sure that I didn’t catch anything from you.”
His lip curled into a sneer. “I always use protection.”
“And obviously it isn’t always effective.”
His expression went flat again. Unaffected. “Do you need money for medical care?”
She blinked. “I will. Unless I can get on some kind of assistance...”
“How soon can you get a paternity test done?”
She clenched her hands into fists, starting to feel light-headed. “Not for a few weeks. And from what I’ve heard there’s a miscarriage risk.”
“Your choice. Discuss it with your physician at your appointment, and I will leave that decision to you. But, if you do take assistance from me during the pregnancy and upon delivery of the child the test is done and I discover it is not mine, you will owe me for the care you received.”
She gritted her teeth. “I will probably take option two, as I’m completely confident in what the results will be. I’m not worried about owing you a damn thing.”
“Excellent,” he said, as though they had just solved a particularly tricky business issue. “I will arrange for an account to be set up for your medical needs. After the delivery of the baby, after we have legally established paternity, we can work out some sort of child support agreement.”
This was it. She had won. He was agreeing to child support. It was going to get her what she needed, give her and her child the best life possible. And he wasn’t going to be involved.
For some reason, the victory was so much more hollow than she had imagined it might be. For some reason, she didn’t feel victorious at all. She just felt dizzy, dazed.
Maybe because she was in shock. She very likely had been from the moment she’d first taken the pregnancy tests. The first one, at home, and the follow-up blood work at the free clinic. She had probably been in shock the whole time she was formulating this plan. A way to make sure everything was taken care of, without having Rocco in her life.
It was difficult to feel victorious when everything about this just felt frightening. Strange.
“I suppose you know how to contact me,” she said.
“And you know how to contact me. Clearly.”
“Is that everything?”
He shrugged and went to sit behind his desk. “Unless you have any further concerns. Or, have any information on the whereabouts of your father.”
She shook her head, feeling numb. “No.”
“That is a shame. Do let me know when the results of the paternity test are in.”
“You mean when your child is born.”
“I imagine the timing will coincide,” he said, looking away from her now completely. As though she was already gone.
“I’ll call you. Someone. Your secretary,” she said, turning away from him and walking out the door.
She managed to hold it together until she was halfway through the lobby. But then, just as she was passing the receptionist’s desk, a sob worked its way through her frame, catching her breath, making her pause. Her chest burned, her whole body shaking. She didn’t know why this hurt so much. Didn’t know why it mattered whether or not he cared about the child. She didn’t want him to, dammit. Why was she feeling guilty now?
Because you know how much it hurts. You know it hurts forever.
Yes, she did know. Knew that the pain of abandonment, of complete disinterest, didn’t ease.
She hated that her child would be starting out life the way she had started hers. And it was a strange and terrifying thing to know that, already, the needs of her child felt so much more important than her own.
She pressed on through the lobby, sucking in a gasp of fresh air as soon as she was outside. She blinked against the harsh light of the sun, staring up at the cloudless blue sky that seemed to mock the state of her life with its beautiful perfection.
But somehow, while part of her felt angry about the beauty of the day, another part of her took comfort in it. Things were changing in her life, faster than she could process them. But everything around her was the same.
It wasn’t the end of the world. It was just the start of a strange, new one. And no, her child wouldn’t have a father. But she knew from experience that a father who sucked was probably worse than no father at all.
And her child would have a mother. There was no question about that.
It was scary. Terrifying. She was a twenty-two-year-old waitress who didn’t feel as if she’d started her life yet. She didn’t know how to be normal. Her moral compass skewed from childhood. But she would have to change the way she saw things now, change the way she did things. Because she didn’t want to carry on the legacy that her father had tried to instill in her. A legacy she had been taking part in because she hadn’t known what else to do.
She still didn’t know what to do. But with the financial support coming from Rocco, she wouldn’t even be tempted to engage in cons anymore. Maybe she would get a house in the country. Maybe she would make friends with other mothers. Maybe she would make up a story about where she was from, and what happened to her baby’s father.
Maybe that could be her last con. One that she lived in. One that she stayed in. Something normal, something happy.
The thought of it made her smile.
Things were going to change. But she needed that. Desperately. She needed to change. Maybe this was her chance to finally have real connections. To love someone the way she wanted to. Without reserve. With love in return.
A love neither she nor her child would ever have to earn.
No just one more con looming overhead. A mythical destination that would supposedly fix all, but would never arrive.
She closed her eyes and wiped away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. She didn’t need Rocco Amari to be happy. Neither did her child.
This whole thing with her dad had started out as one of the biggest mistakes of her life. But maybe out of it something amazing would happen.
Either way, it was a new chapter. She was done with her father. She was done with the life they’d led. Done with cheating people.
And she was done with Rocco, except when it came to the financial support he would offer. It was a new life, a new beginning.
And now that she had taken care of the hard part, she was ready to start.
