Читать книгу The Royal House of Niroli: Innocent Mistresses: Expecting His Royal Baby / The Prince's Forbidden Virgin - Robyn Donald - Страница 10

IT WASN’T as if she had any ties holding her in England, Carrie reflected as the plane banked steeply on the final approach to Niroli and, in spite of her apprehension, she couldn’t suppress her excitement at the thought of seeing Nico again. Her hands tightened around the in-flight magazine in which she had found pictures of the palace taken from the air. Just the thought of trying to gain entrance to somewhere so splendid made her heart race. The question was, could she do it?

She had to do it, Carrie determined, stuffing the magazine back in its net. Staring out of the window, she tried to distract herself. She could see the bright blue ocean far below dotted with tiny boats and, in the distance, the coastline of Niroli, edged with pale golden sand. The island looked so tranquil from the sky she didn’t want to think about the drama that was about to unfold, but she wouldn’t dodge it, either. There was some irony in the situation. When Nico had hired her he’d said it was her quiet perseverance that had brought her to his notice, and now that same determination was about to be turned against him….

She was pregnant because they’d had sex at the office party. It was such a cliché, she could hardly believe it herself, but she had always been ready for Nico; he’d only had to look at her a certain way. She had been hovering on the fringes of the party with a wineglass in her hand. She wasn’t good at small talk, the words would never come quickly enough, and if they did, they were invariably the wrong words. People couldn’t be bothered to wait while she tried to find something witty or fascinating to say. She hadn’t drunk a lot, just a glass or two of wine. In fact, she had been wondering how soon she could slip away without causing offence. It had been during one of those ‘poised for flight’ moments that Nico had sought her out.

‘All alone, Carrie?’

Her heart performed a perfect somersault. Nico Fierezza had never spoken to her outside office hours. Yet he’d been there standing right next to her, so close she could smell his cologne and could separate each complex note: musk, sandalwood, vanilla and an additional edge of something that hinted of warm water and toothpaste and long, hot, soapy showers—

‘Daydreaming?’ He’d broken into her thoughts with that low, husky voice that’d always made her tremble inwardly when she was taking notes for him.

‘That’s not like you, Carrie,’ he’d observed.

The note of censure had made her stare up into slateblue eyes she had never felt brave enough to study before. Then she’d seen they had a striking pewter ring around the iris and that the whites were very white against his tan.

‘I’ve been watching you….’

The fact that he’d even noticed her was news, indeed, and the touch of humour in his voice had ensured that her attention remained fixed to his face. But, as usual, nothing sparkling had flown to her lips. It’d been the most exciting moment of her life and she’d been speechless. She’d taken in Nico’s lashes, so long and thick and black like the stubble on his cheeks, and then her pulse had gone wild when he’d smiled into her eyes.

‘Are you all right? Can I get you something before we land?’

Shocked into the present, Carrie gasped out loud. She had been gripping the seat arms, she realised, which the flight attendant had mistaken for nerves. ‘Nothing, nothing, thank you….’

As the woman walked away Carrie tried to shut the memories out, but Nico’s voice was in her head. Nico teasing her, Nico telling her she was his strait-laced secretary with the big innocent eyes and there were questions he wanted answered … She was spellbound that he was interested in anything other than her secretarial skills. And then he’d said something extraordinary: ‘You must know you’ve been under my wing since you got here….’

Under Nico’s wing? Her mind went into free fall. She’d hoarded up each time he’d smiled at her like a miser hoarding gold, but she’d always believed he was encouraging her to do better, to work harder….

‘I love your modesty,’ he’d gone on. ‘I find subtlety in a woman incredibly attractive….’

Attractive? Nico found her attractive? His words had echoed in her head like a siren call. And then she’d found her voice, but only to stutter clumsily, ‘I’ve not … I mean, I’m not.’

‘If I’ve got this wrong just say the word …’ His voice had been teasing.

What word? None came to mind.

‘I want you, Carrie….’

The moment he’d said that she was lost. She wanted Nico so badly it hurt. And then he’d leaned back against the wall, his timing impeccable. She had been so sure he was about to take her in his arms that she swayed towards him, which was all the answer Nico had been looking for.

She might have made a sound when he’d removed the wineglass from her hand, but she was certainly struck dumb when he’d taken her from the party, lead her by the hand across the room. She’d followed him willingly; she would have followed him anywhere.

When they’d reached the boardroom he’d shut and locked the door. Then, gathering her to him, he’d used the lightest and most persuasive touch on her arms as if asking her permission to go further. She’d given it gladly. He hadn’t needed to ask, her body’d melted like candle wax. She’d not only been willing, she’d been eager to serve. Nico Fierezza was a god amongst men. He was the only man she had ever wanted and it’d been a dream come true. He could have done anything with her.

Nico was everything she had imagined and more. He was tender, loving, considerate and hotter than a man had any right to be. While he’d dropped kisses on her neck above the chaste white barrier of her Peter Pan collar he’d freed the buttons on her blouse with long, deft fingers. Soothing and exciting her at the same time with his lips, tongue and teeth, he’d suggested all sorts of wickedness in husky Nirolian. She’d been so aroused she’d yelped in complaint when he’d paused to push her neatly tailored jacket from her shoulders. But as it was only a short pause, she’d forgiven him, and then her blouse was open to the waist and her heavy breasts in the fine lace bra were fully exposed for his perusal. She’d felt a moment’s shame knowing her bras were far too small for her and she had been meaning to buy more, but the expression on Nico’s face had told her to relax. He’d approved. He’d loved her breasts. He’d loved the way they’d spilled over the confining cups and he’d loved the fact that her nipples had been so engorged they’d pressed like tight red buds against the flimsy lace.

Arching her back, she’d thrust them towards him, making her breasts a gift to him, her first gift to Nico….

Carrie flinched now as the flight attendant lightly touched her hand.

‘We’ve been forced to circle the airport, but we’ll be down on the ground very soon….’

‘Thank you for telling me.’

‘A drink of water, perhaps?’

‘I’m fine, honestly … just a little tense.’And just a little concerned that her guilty thoughts were an open book to the woman!

‘It’s understandable,’ the flight attendant said sympathetically. ‘There’s been a lot of turbulence, but it’s nothing to worry about. In ten minutes or so it will be all over and your holiday will have begun.’

Her holiday? If only! Carrie smiled. ‘Thank you … I’m not usually so much trouble….’

‘No trouble at all,’ the flight attendant assured her, moving on to attend to another nervous passenger.

She couldn’t allow herself to become distracted like this, Carrie told herself firmly. She had to make a conscious effort to blank Nico out of her mind. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on happy thoughts about the tiny child growing inside her until a light touch on her shoulder told her that the flight attendant was back with her water. ‘You’re very kind.’

‘That’s what we’re here for.’

The small kindness brought tears to Carrie’s eyes. She knew her hormones were to blame, but took it as a warning that she must be careful to keep a check on her feelings when she met Nico. She must give him no reason to think her weak.

She drank the water down quickly and closed her eyes, trying to shut her mind to everything, but soon she was drifting into the half world somewhere between waking and sleeping where Nico was waiting for her. She couldn’t blame him for what had happened. She had been as eager as he that night and had turned from meltingly acquiescent to fiercely demanding in the space of a kiss….

Everyone knew Nico was strong, but that night she had discovered that his body felt like warm marble beneath her hands. The intimacy of touching his naked skin had given her an incredible charge. From that moment on she had been able to think of nothing but him sinking deep inside her.

Nico had known exactly what she’d wanted. His hands had been sure as they’d reached for the fastening on her skirt. She had encouraged him, laughing softly, nipping his skin with her small white teeth until he’d appeared to change his mind. Nico had had other plans for her. Swinging her into his arms, he had settled her on the edge of the boardroom table where she was at the perfect height for him. As he had nudged his way between her thighs she had wriggled impatiently, lifting her hips this way and that to make it easier for him to remove her briefs….

A sudden jolt flung Carrie into full consciousness. They had landed, she realised with surprise. Time to put her jacket on … gather her things. Would she ever escape Nico, waking or sleeping?

‘You can let go of the arm rests now and relax,’ the flight attendant told her with a smile.

If only it were that easy. ‘Thank you for everything.’

The girl paused with her hand on the back of Carrie’s seat. ‘We’ll be taxiing for around ten minutes before we reach the terminal building, so you’ll have plenty of time to organise yourself. You’ll have someone meeting you, I expect?’

No, no one. As loneliness washed over her Carrie realised why she had behaved the way she had on the night of the party. She had wanted to be with someone who wanted her … And when that someone had been Nico …’No, there’s no one meeting me,’ she admitted, spinning the words on a note of optimism. ‘This is my first solo trip and I’m looking forward to it.’

‘You know, I’ve always wanted to go it alone. I admire you.’

There was nothing to admire, Carrie thought, maintaining her upbeat expression. ‘I’ll let you know how it goes.’

As the flight attendant hurried away Carrie wondered if anything could blunt the passion she felt for Nico and allow her to think clearly. He didn’t make it easy. ‘Not yet, mouse, I set the pace …’ That was what he had said to her at the party and she had been happy to fall into line. All that had to change now. No one challenged Nico, but she would now for the sake of their child.

It wasn’t as if she was unprepared. She had played the scene where she told him about their baby over and over again in her head, preparing for rejection. She had even drafted the accusations for him: she should have been more responsible; she should have taken precautions; she should have been on the pill at the very least. Condoms? Condoms took a degree of forward thinking and there had been no time for that….

Freeing her seat belt and standing up, Carrie eased her way into the packed aisle. As she waited for the line to move forward a woman in front of her turned and said, ‘Perfect, isn’t it?’

Nico had said she was perfect….

No one had a door into her thoughts, Carrie told herself firmly. The woman was only making a comment about the sun-drenched landscape as they waited to disembark. ‘Yes, perfect,’ she agreed pleasantly, trying to blank the precise moment Nico had said that to her. But it was too late. She was already remembering Nico releasing the clasp on his jeans, lowering the zipper and freeing himself. Helping her to lift her legs and lock them around his waist, he’d leaned over her, pressed her knees back and said, ‘Perfect …’

Her cheeks were on fire as she forced her thoughts back onto a practical track. It was important to keep her wits about her. She had nowhere to stay and very little money … So she would just have to take it one step at a time, Carrie reasoned calmly. First, she would find a bed for the night and then she would find Nico.

Doubt hit her again as she stepped onto the tarmac. As she looked around and inhaled the warm, spicy air she could tell that Niroli was even more glamorous and exclusive than she had thought. Even the airport officials were elegant. She felt pallid and shabby by comparison, just as she had on the night of the party….

Staring at her face in the bathroom mirror after they’d made love she had compared herself to the other women at the party and known she was plain. Her glorious hair was a bad joke that had landed on the wrong head. Just like one of the paper dolls she had played with as a child she was all jumbled up—the wrong eyes in the wrong face on the wrong body. It wasn’t possible that Nico would want her for herself. Nico had wanted sex, and that was all. She had lost her virginity to a man who treated sex like a fast-food meal and used her like a disposable container.

And she was totally innocent of course, Carrie thought dryly, glancing up as she tried to orientate herself and search for some signs to Baggage Reclaim. She had encouraged Nico with everything she’d had, and, unsurprisingly, he had given in without a fight. The moment he had cupped her buttocks in his work-roughened hands was something she would never forget. She had rubbed herself against him, loving the sensation and knowing that for all his power in the boardroom Nico was a man who used physical strength as well as brainpower on-site. One of his greatest pleasures, he had confessed during a meeting where she had been taking notes, was to see his designs rise from the paper and take three-dimensional shape. He liked to see, touch, feel and suck everything he could out of each new experience.

She had always believed this thoroughness accounted for his success; she knew it made him a fantastic lover. She had been frantic by the time he had moved lightly back and forth and, when he had allowed the tip to catch inside her, it had shot the breath from her lungs like a punch. But he had pulled back before she’d had chance to close around him, by which time her body had been liquid fire. Working her nails cruelly into his bunched-up muscles, she had begged him, ‘Nico, please …’

‘Please, what?’

‘You know what I want….’

‘Do I?’ He had seemed amused, and she’d gone way too far to pull back.

Face it, Carrie, you didn’t want to pull back.

Carrie tried not to smile as she heaved her suitcase off the carousel, but it wasn’t easy when she remembered the next time she had bucked towards him Nico had taken her deep.

Thinking about Nico was one way to get through the tedium of airport formalities, Carrie reflected, responding to a prompt to move forward in the queue. Handing over her passport, she smiled thinly in response to the immigration official’s well-mannered scrutiny. Her mood had flattened, tiredness, maybe, or perhaps she had just reached the point in her reminiscences where it had all gone wrong. It had happened when Nico had said he loved her, because what he had actually said was, ‘I love my mouse.’ By reducing her to a cartoon image, Carrie guessed, Nico found it easier to brush her off. He didn’t love Carrie Evans, he loved the compliant mouse she had allowed him to think her.

Carrie’s mood had deteriorated to the point where she was scanning the departure board for flights home by the time she’d walked across the concourse, but the moment she walked outside she changed her mind. Her artist’s eye was immediately drawn to the richness and variety of the colours all around her. Fuchsia-tinted bougainvillea tumbled down yellow-sandstone walls and there was an imposing water feature in front of the terminal building throwing cascades of glittering spray into the air. Then she remembered Nico had designed the building and came back to earth with a bump.

What would he say when she told him about the baby?

What could he say?

Whatever happened she would never think of her baby as a mistake. Loving Nico was the only mistake she had made. Picking up her case, Carrie walked briskly towards the taxi rank.

The taxi driver, clearly proud of his beautiful island home, gave her a running commentary as he drove towards the old city of Niroli. The island had a colourful history, filled with ancient rivalries, rebels and kings. She learned that Nico’s family’s fortune had been founded on ancient trading routes, thanks to the island’s tactically advantageous position to the south of Sicily.

Gradually Carrie found herself relaxing. The sky was so blue, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight and everywhere she looked there was something new and interesting to see … ruined castles, vineyards, orange groves and fields and, leaning forward, she could see mountains capped with snow….

Niroli was beautiful, and it was easy for her to understand the elderly taxi driver’s pride in his homeland. The only problem was his old taxi lacked air-conditioning and she was still wearing her heavy London suit. It was too late to wish she had been less impetuous and had thought to bring more clothes. When had she ever found calm reason possible where Nico was concerned?

Certainly not the morning after the party, Carrie thought as the taxi driver fell silent. She had taken such care with her appearance, knowing she was going to see Nico again. From her small stock of clothes she had chosen the best of her sombre suits and a sensible top. She hadn’t wanted to look like a tease. She had felt shy and embarrassed, remembering her wantonness, her brazen pleading….

She had known it wasn’t going to be easy to face him again, and the last thing she’d wanted was to give Nico the wrong idea. She had known the party was over.

But even so, deep inside she had harboured a kernel of hope … She had brushed her hair until it had gleamed, and had toyed with the idea of leaving it down, but as long hair was impractical in the office she had drawn it back before applying a touch of lipstick. She wasn’t good at makeup, but she had made a special effort that day.

Her pulse had been off the scale, her body humming with awareness when she’d spotted Nico. He had been coming out of a breakfast meeting and she’d had to wait on tenterhooks for him to finish talking to a colleague. But then he’d walked past her….

‘Good morning, Nico …’

She had to call again before he turned. And then his face had lit up, making her heart thunder.

‘Oh, good, you’re here.’ He’d squeezed her arm and looked down into her eyes, all charm, all warmth … and well-honed professional courtesy. ‘Scan these documents and get them back to me ASAP, will you, Carrie? We’ve got a rush on—’ He’d pushed some papers into her hands, hands that had been holding him in the most intimate way only hours before. ‘And could you bring some coffee to the boardroom?’

Sure of her answer, sure of her, he hadn’t even bothered to turn around.

The boardroom had looked the same way it always did: stylish, clinical, perfect. Perfect for serious study and discussion, that was.

She’d done everything Nico’d asked of her that day and then she’d hung around after work like a kid with a crush. She’d waited until the office had emptied and the cleaners had arrived. Nico had still been at work in his office with the door closed. She’d had to do something, so she’d knocked on the door and poked her head round.

‘Hi …’

He’d looked up, distracted. He’d had some plans in front of him and she could tell he hadn’t want to be disturbed.

‘Did you want something, Carrie?’

His eyes had been empty; they’d held nothing for her. Nico had been her boss and nothing more. The Nico she had encountered at the party might have been an imposter. To save face she’d told him a lie. ‘Sorry to disturb you, Nico. I saw your light on and thought I’d pop by to see if you needed anything before I left.’

Dark eyes scanned her briefly. ‘Nothing. Thank you, Carrie. You get home now. No need for you to stay late….’

The end.

It had come as swiftly and comprehensively as that.

It was over. As far as Nico had been concerned it had never begun. He’d seen no reason for them to feel awkward in the office. It was a one-off he had taken in his stride, and so should she. They had been hungry for sex and had gorged themselves on each other. No problem.

No problem … After that she couldn’t remain working for him—her pride wouldn’t allow her to. She loved him. She always would. And so she’d handed in her notice quietly like the mouse he’d thought her, making no fuss, simply saying that her aunt needed her to be at home.

The aftermath of her short-lived affair with Nico was more pain than Carrie cared to remember. She had been heartbroken and had cried herself to sleep each night, waking to each grey, unwanted day, still tired, still punishing herself for her foolishness. There had been no sunshine that summer, or if there had been she hadn’t noticed it. All she remembered was the rain. It had rained and rained, matching her tear for tear as if she were engaged in some bizarre competition with the weather. And when she hadn’t been crying she’d been raging at her stupidity, raging at the virginity she had thrown away on a man who didn’t want her….

Until one day the sun had shone and she had sat up in bed and asked herself: was any man worth so much grief? That was the day she’d discovered she was pregnant with Nico’s baby. She’d known then she had to wise up and toughen up. Ripping the blindfold off, she had accepted that Nico Fierezza had never pretended to be Mr Average, or Mr Comfort-Zone. Nico was a law unto himself and she had always known it. But she wasn’t his mouse. She wasn’t anybody’s mouse. But she was going to be somebody’s mother. And she was going to fight for that tiny soul for the rest of her life.