Bound By My Scandalous Pregnancy / Redemption Of The Untamed Italian. Clare Connelly
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.’
Nine weeks later
‘You shouldn’t be going to work today, Sadie. You look even worse than you did yesterday. And you were out like a light when I looked in on you before I went to bed. I didn’t disturb you because I thought a full night’s sleep would do you good, but I can see it didn’t.’
I