Secret Heirs: His One Night Consequence. Кэрол Мортимер
beautiful, sensuous mouth kicked up at the corner in a mirthless smile that made a mockery of the heat she’d imagined in his eyes moments before.
‘I know it absolutely.’ His gaze held hers till her chest tightened and she remembered to breathe. And still his expression of weary cynicism didn’t change. ‘Romantic love is a fallacy invented for the gullible. Only a fool would consider himself in love, much less marry for it.’
Carys felt her eyes widen, staring up at the man she’d once believed she’d known. He’d been considerate, witty, urbane and, above all, passionate. The sort of lover a woman dreamed about. A lover who tempted a woman to believe in the most outrageously wonderful happily ever afters.
She’d always understood he kept something of himself back. She’d sensed his deep-seated reserve despite the intimacies they shared. A sense of aloneness she’d never quite breached. An aloneness that intensified after his father died and Alessandro withdrew, devoting himself to business. Yet it shocked her to discover the hardened kernel of scepticism behind his charming exterior.
It made him seem so empty.
Had he always been like that? Or was this the result of the trauma he’d been through?
Distress and unwilling compassion burgeoned for this man who seemed to have so much, yet apparently felt so little.
Absurdly she wanted to reach out to him.
And what? Comfort him? Show him compassion? Love?
No! She reeled back, stunned at the depth of feelings he engendered even now.
Her hand, half raised as if to reach out to him, dropped noiselessly to her side.
‘Marriage is a duty,’ he continued, oblivious to her reaction. ‘There was never any question of me marrying for love.’ His scornful tone almost made her wince, recalling how blithely she’d believed he was falling in love with her as she’d fallen for him.
Acidly she wondered how he’d class his interest in other women. Even if he were married, there would be other women. Alessandro was a man who enjoyed sex. He wouldn’t stay celibate just because he’d married a woman he didn’t love. He’d have no qualms about pursuing someone who took his fancy. After all, she’d been his bit on the side, hadn’t she?
‘I believe in marriage for life.’ His words cut through her stark thoughts. ‘Once married there would be no divorce.’
‘A life sentence, in fact.’
‘You would not find it so hard, believe me, Carys.’ A hint of mellow honey edged his words and Carys shut her eyes, fighting the insidious weakness in her bones. He was talking about money, luxury, position, that was all. Not anything important, like the emotions he so despised.
‘You’re not worried I might fall for someone else and want a divorce?’ The words tumbled out in self-defence.
Taut silence reigned as his displeasure vibrated on the air between them.
‘There will be no divorce.’ His words were adamant, his tone rough-edged. ‘As for believing yourself in love…’
Abruptly he stepped in front of her and lifted her chin with his hand. She felt herself fall into the shaded depths of his green gaze. Heat sparked in her abdomen as he leaned closer. A thrill of excitement skimmed down her backbone.
No! She wasn’t making a fool of herself like that again. If he thought he could seduce her into falling for him all over again, he had another thing coming.
Furiously she jerked out of his hold. ‘Don’t worry,’ her voice was icy with disdain. ‘There’s no danger of me falling in love with anyone.’
Once bitten, now cured for life!
His eyes blazed with curiosity. Then those heavy lids dropped, hiding his expression.
‘Good. Then we have an understanding.’
‘Now, just a minute! I didn’t say I—’
‘I’ll leave you to read the agreement.’ He gestured to the papers on the desk as he turned away, obviously eager to go. ‘There are arrangements to be made.’ He paused, spearing her with a look. ‘Consider well what I’ve said, Carys. I’ll be back soon for your answer.’
She hadn’t meant to, but finally Carys was drawn to the elegant regency desk with its fateful document. The thickly worded pages taunted her, evidence of Alessandro’s superior position, of his lawyers and his precious money.
She wasn’t really considering marriage. Was she? Fear swooped through her stomach and her damp hands clenched.
Alessandro couldn’t force her to marry.
He was gambling that a judge would give him custody. More, he was probably bluffing about court action. He wouldn’t…
The memory of eyes flashing like jade daggers in the sun pulled her up short.
He would. To get his son, of course he would.
How had she ever imagined Alessandro would settle for part-time fatherhood?
Stiffly she raised a hand and drew the papers towards her. She settled her glasses on her nose and began reading.
By the third page panic welled. It had taken twenty minutes of desperate concentration and still some of the text eluded her.
She was exhausted after so many sleepless nights and emotionally drained. Even at the best of times her dyslexia made reading solid text like this a challenge. But now…she bit her lip, fighting down angry tears of frustration.
Leo’s future was at stake and she didn’t have the skills to ensure he was protected! What sort of mother was she?
The old, jeering voice in her head told her she was a failure, and for a moment she was tempted to believe it.
She slammed her palms on the table and pushed her chair away. It wasn’t a matter of skills or intelligence. It was simply a disability, exacerbated by tiredness and stress.
Besides—it suddenly hit her—the prenup wasn’t about Leo. It was about her rights and Alessandro’s.
She flicked to the end and found a section, mercifully short, that declared she would get nothing, either in cash or interest in Alessandro’s fortune, in the case of divorce. Relief filled her. That was the heart of it. All the rest was legal bumph of conditions and counter-conditions.
Still, caution warned she should have a lawyer read this before she signed.
Hell! Caution warned her to run a mile rather than consider marrying Alessandro Mattani! Even in a convenient marriage where they’d be virtual strangers, he had the power to turn her world on its head.
But this wasn’t about her. This was about Leo. Leo who had the right to both his parents. Who didn’t deserve to be fought over in a tug-of-love battle. Whom she loved so much she couldn’t bear the risk of Alessandro taking him from her.
Carys blinked glazing hot eyes and straightened her spine.
She didn’t have a lawyer to check the document, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t have a choice.
Heart heavy, fingers tense, she picked up Alessandro’s custom-made pen and turned to the final page.
Carys Antoinette Wells. Such a pompous document deserved her full name. But instead of writing with a flourish, her hand shook so much it looked like the signature of an inexperienced teenager, pretending to be someone else.
The pen clattered to the desk. Carys got slowly to her feet, stiff like an old woman, her heart leaden.
A muffled sound drew Alessandro’s attention. He lifted his head, all too ready for a distraction from paperwork.
These last days Alessandro had found it extraordinarily difficult to give business his full attention. To be expected since