Читать книгу Bound By My Scandalous Pregnancy / Redemption Of The Untamed Italian: Bound by My Scandalous Pregnancy / Redemption of the Untamed Italian - Maya Blake, Clare Connelly - Страница 13

MISTAKE.

Big, colossal mistake.

Disbelief, raw and searing, tunnelled deep, bedded down into my bones with unstoppable force until I had no choice but to acknowledge its presence. To accept that I’d simply compounded one problem with not one but two further mistakes.

For the first time in my life I wanted to find the nearest sand dune. Bury my head in it. But I couldn’t.

Because there she stood, a flaming hot testament to the temptation I’d given in to when I should’ve walked away. Should have heeded my own agency to retreat and regroup instead of arrogantly imagining I could handle this—handle her—like a normal business challenge, to be ruthlessly and efficiently dismantled before moving on to the next problem.

The chaos she’d brought upon me wasn’t a business problem or even a wider family problem, to be accommodated only so far until it could be slotted under someone else’s problem when in reality it was deeply, straight-to-the-core personal.

It had needed addressing, sure. But only once I’d thought things through. Executed a solution with military precision, as I did with everything in my life.

Not losing myself in the very object of my misery. Not letting go of the reins of my sanity so thoroughly and completely that the world could’ve burned to the ground and I wouldn’t have minded in the slightest if it meant I could continue to enjoy her silken warmth, the intoxicating clutch of her tight heat. To hear those spellbinding gasps and cries fall from her lips as she begged for more.

Acid seared my throat, flooded my mouth, bringing with it a recollection of the only other time I’d let blind lust get the better of me.

An invitation to some faceless heiress’s birthday party in Gstaad I’d almost refused—until a possible business opportunity had been thrown in to sweeten the invitation.

A big deal bagged, followed by a night of hedonistic revelry.

A mistaken conclusion that I’d found a worthy soulmate, even though I’d never truly believed in that sort of flighty fantasy.

When that illusion had seemed to hold true in the clear light of day, for weeks and months, I’d congratulated myself for a wise choice made even in the midst of frivolity and decadence.

A proposal in Neostros, before friends and family, an engagement party to trump them all, and I was all set to buck the Xenakis family trend of backstabbing and buckling underneath the smallest pressure.

Even when suspicions arose…even when I allowed Anneka to talk me into another visit to Gstaad and a reluctant turn on the black ski run ended with me being launched twenty feet into the air and descending via a jagged aspen tree…she hadn’t bailed.

Unlike most, who barely remembered their trauma, mine still played out in excruciating detail. I heard her cries as she held my hand and urged me to hold on. And I held on, remaining alert right until the doctors were forced to put me in a medical coma. I embraced even that, knowing she would be waiting for me when I woke.

But those fervent wishes for me to hold on had been born not of love but of callous greed and an unconscionable disregard for loyalty and integrity.

She calculated every move, right up until my eyes opened—literally and figuratively—to the betrayal and falsehoods so deeply ingrained she wore them like a second skin. One she attempted to hide with tears and cajoling until she’d learned that she couldn’t fool a Xenakis twice.

I’d made a vow never to be caught in another traitorous web ever again.

Where was that vow an hour ago, Neo?

I stifled a growl at the mocking inner voice. There’d been quite enough growling for one night. One lifetime. The cold calculation with which I should have approached this situation finally arrived.

I stared at Sadie Preston. Watched her fidget, like she did in my office.

Then slowly that chin went up, throwing the face I’d framed in my hands and caressed into alluring relief while those green eyes began to spark.

‘Are you going to stand there glaring at me all night? Look, I know the news is upsetting—’

Harsh laughter barked out of me, startling her, but there was no help for it. ‘You think this is merely upsetting? Do you not understand that there’s no making this right? No glossing over this?’

‘I was just—’

‘Attempting to make me feel better? Urging me to look on the bright side? Is that what the episode on the sofa was all about?’

Raw colour flared in her cheeks but she dared another step closer, that temper I’d suspected bubbled just beneath the surface rising. ‘How dare you belittle it?’ she breathed, stunning me with her fierce tone. ‘It wasn’t just a sordid little episode to me.’

‘Wasn’t it? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually mean that.’

Another less readable look flashed in her eyes. Lips that had tasted exquisite beneath mine firmed, holding in whatever response she’d intended to utter for several seconds before she shook her head and spoke anyway.

‘I know there’s nothing I can say or do to alter what’s happened. But I was actually talking about the…the incident with the condom, not what brought me here in the first place.’

Christos, the broken condom. Another intensely unwelcome first in a day of abysmal firsts that needed to be smashed out of existence.

But then you wouldn’t have met her.

Skatá! What was wrong with me?

I’d hung on to her when I should have handed her over to the authorities within minutes of her confession. Now was I playing devil’s advocate with myself?

Never crossing paths with Sadie Preston was a trade-off I could cheerfully accept—and that gritty little knot in my stomach that called it out for a white lie be damned.

So what if my digital little black book hadn’t been used for the longest stretch since its inception, and she, with that mystifying allure of defiance and sexiness, would’ve been a prime addition to it had we met under different circumstances?

Facts were facts. And the simple fact remained: sending her packing should have been my first and only course.

‘The accident with the condom is another consequence to deal with. But it should be a fairly straightforward matter. I’ll start by assuring you that you have nothing to worry about health-wise.’

She arched one well-shaped eyebrow. ‘And I’m to take your word for that? Because you’re…you?’

The clear censure in her tone grated. ‘That’s your prerogative. But other than the fact that I abhor liars, a man in my position would be extremely foolish not to take the necessary precautions when it comes to every facet of his life. My last medical check returned a clean bill of health. You’re the only woman I’ve slept with since.’

Her eyes widened a touch, questions glinting in their depths. ‘And what about…?’

The inevitable question. I needed to answer and it burned its way up my throat—a searing reminder of why my association with this woman should have ended many hours ago.

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t not ask, can I?’ she muttered.

Her expression morphed into one I’d seen on too many faces of friends and family members. Even those without full knowledge of what had happened in that hospital room deigned to pity me. It was why I’d banned my family from discussing my accident.

‘I don’t need your pity, Miss Preston. Or whatever that look on your face is supposed to signify. The simple truth is, I cannot father children. The why doesn’t concern you. It’s a proven reality—which makes your offer of a further visit to your previous place of employment null. The only thing I need from you right now is reciprocal reassurance that I’m not at risk after this unfortunate mishap.’

Her expression snapped back to that mixture of fiery irritation, hurt and censure.

She wore her feelings so plainly. She would be an abysmal poker player. So why did I crave to keep staring, keep attempting to read what else she felt within this chaos?

‘I tell you this only for reassurance, in light of everything that’s happened. Let’s call it a courtesy.’ She paused, pursed her lips. ‘I’ve had one relationship. It lasted five months, while I was in my second year at uni, and I took every necessary precaution. So you have nothing to fear from me medically either,’ she snapped.

A layer of tension released its grip on me, even while questions multiplied in my brain. Questions I batted away because, no, I most definitely did not care who that relationship had been with. Or why it had ended. These days not being ‘in a relationship’ didn’t mean a woman was celibate. Did she belong to anyone now?

The urge to know was overpowering enough to force my fists closed, to grit my teeth just so the question wouldn’t tumble out.

Thee mou, I was losing it.

Her eyes widened as she stared at me. Evidently, my poker face needed work too. She glanced away, her eyes lighting on the shabby little handbag resting on the entryway console table.

When she headed for it I remained where I stood, not trusting myself to approach her. But staying put didn’t mean denying myself one final scrutiny of her body. Now that I’d tasted the passion and beauty beneath her tasteless clothes, my body wasn’t in any mood to obey my commands to relegate Sadie Preston to the wasteland where she belonged. Instead, it tracked the supple shape of her calves and ankles, the tempting curve of her backside, the dip of her waist.

Her hair…

My fist clenched tighter. I’d never given much thought to a woman’s hair before, except perhaps in the way it framed the overall package. I’d dated blondes, brunettes and everything in between without alighting on any specified preference.

Sadie’s hair had trademarked its own siren call. One that had hooked into me, driving me to a new and dizzyingly dangerous edge.

‘I suppose you want me to leave?’

I refocused on her face. She’d reclaimed her bag and slung it crossways over her slim torso, dragging my attention to her full breasts. I forced my gaze away from the perfect globes, crossed the living room to the front door to summon the lift.

A draining type of despair, a kind I’d never known before—not even when I stared into the heart of Anneka’s cruel betrayal—sapped the dregs of my energy. I held it at bay with sheer willpower.

Barely.

‘Neo…’

I pivoted to face her, renewed tension vibrating through to my very bones.

‘I don’t recall inviting you to use my first name. There’s nothing more to discuss. And, just so you’re disabused of any lingering notions of attempting to make this right, let me lay it out for you. There’s no way back from what you’ve done. Short of divine intervention and immaculate conception, you’ve effectively ended me, Sadie Preston. My last hope of ever becoming a father was that sample you destroyed. So I’m confident that you can get it through that stunning red head of yours that if I never see you again it will be too soon. Attempt any form of communication with me for any reason and this stay of execution I’m considering will be off the table and you’ll be handed over to the authorities to answer for your crime. Is that understood?’

All colour drained from her face, but that stubborn chin remained high. Defiant.

‘Perfectly. Goodbye, Mr Xenakis.’