Mistress To a Latin Lover. Jane Porter
way I look—”
“And so does Maximos.” Emilio’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. “I heard him compliment you. When I was in the bathroom. And it’s obvious you’re dressed to please him.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out the truth—that Maximos knew the truth about her and Emilio’s charade. She pictured Emilio’s outrage and for a split second she enjoyed the idea of popping his horrible little bubble, but she knew now wasn’t the time. Not before the Guiliano reception—it was Adriana’s special night after all. For another, she didn’t want to be alone with Emilio once he did know.
He would be angry. And outraged. And God knew what he’d do then.
“I brought this dress because I like it,” she answered coolly, shrugging off his criticism, “and I’m not changing. So can we just go, please?”
But Emilio wasn’t starting the car. Instead he climbed out the driver’s side and walked around the sports car. “We have an agreement,” he said softly, his tone almost menacing. “This weekend you’re with me.”
Cass didn’t like his tone, or the way he attempted to intimidate her. She put her finger against his chest and firmly pushed him back. “Don’t crowd me, Emilio, and don’t attempt to threaten me. I know why I came here this weekend. But I don’t know why you did. Do you?”
“I love weddings.”
“Especially ones where you’re not wanted.”
He smiled. “Call me cruel, but I like to watch people suffer.”
“You mean, Maximos suffer.”
“Yes. I get a great deal of pleasure from watching my good friend Max Guiliano suffer.” He leaned past her, reached into the car and pulled out a white shopping bag and thrust it at her. “Now please go and change so I can continue enjoying myself this weekend.”
Cass opened the tiny glossy shopping bag, pushed aside the lavender tissue paper and stared at a puddle of white. “What is this? Lingerie?”
“No. It’s a dress.”
“This isn’t a dress.” She lifted the fabric and the puddle of white became a long sheer lace and chiffon gown. “This is a slip. Something one wears under a dress, not instead of a dress.”
“Whatever. The point is, I want you to wear it.”
“No.”
“You made a deal with me—”
“I might as well have made a deal with the devil.” She shook her head, feeling the gold diamond earrings swing from her earlobes. “Because this isn’t what I agreed to do. I said I’d pretend to be your fiancée, I even agreed to a phony wedding in Padua, but I’m not going to humiliate Maximos, his sister and the entire Guiliano family by showing up at Adriana’s rehearsal dinner in a slip.”
“You will.” Emilio chucked her under the chin. “Because I know something you don’t want Maximos to know.”
“I’ve no secrets.”
“Are you sure?” Emilio took the paper bag and shoved it at her middle and leaned close to her, very close. He dropped his voice, cocked his head and mouthed in her ear, “I know about the baby, Cass.”
Cass stiffened, froze. Everything within her froze. Her eyes, her mouth, her heart, her brain…
“I know all about it,” Emilio continued. “I know what you did—”
“You know nothing!”
“Temper, temper,” he taunted. “But unfortunately for you, I do know. I know you terminated the pregnancy. And trust me, if Maximos discovers what you did to his child…he’ll never forgive you.”
She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, couldn’t move. It was impossible. How did he know about the baby? How could he know?
And what did he know?
She’d told no one. No one knew. She hadn’t even taken time off of work when she’d been morning sick. Hadn’t even missed work the day after she’d checked out of the hospital.
“Are you blackmailing me?” she asked, voice unnaturally low. She hadn’t terminated her pregnancy. It’d been a horrible miscarriage and yes, there had been procedures done afterward, but everything done had been necessary. She’d been hemorrhaging so badly…not that any of that was Emilio’s business. It was nothing to do with him. It was her secret shame.
“Yes, actually, I am.” He smiled. “You’re going to finish this weekend, finish what we started—”
“He knows why you’re here, Emilio. He knows you’re interested in his new design—”
“Fine, he can’t prove anything. And he’ll still hate seeing us together. He’ll hate it every time you touch me. He’ll be sick each time you turn your adoring eyes on me, insane with jealousy every time I get a fondle, or sneak a kiss. And you better make it believable or I’ll tell him everything.”
Cass took her courage, her last bit of strength and wrapped it around her like a much needed cloak. She’d been hurt by Maximos, gravely hurt. Emilio could do nothing to her. “Then tell him. I’m not scared.”
He chuckled. “Good girl. You keep pretending to be tough, and I’ll pretend I’m a sensitive guy.” His laugh faded and his face hardened. “But it’s just a shame, you know, about the pregnancy, because the one thing Maximos has always wanted was to be a father. He’s longed for a child.” His gaze met hers and held. “Especially a daughter.” Emilio hesitated. “In fact, you’d find this is quite a sensitive subject with him. Explosive, even.”
There was more to this than Emilio was telling her and Cass wanted to know the facts…the truth…but she doubted she’d get the truth from Emilio. Anything he said had to be twisted. Just the way he twisted the facts about her miscarriage. “How did you find out?”
“I was at the hospital that night you checked yourself in. The woman I was dating happened to be your doctor.” He looked at her, his expression speculative. “I have a copy of your medical records. It says plain as can be—D & C.”
She felt the ground shift beneath her. Cass reached out, touched the car door to steady herself. “Go to hell.”
“That’s all it says, Cass. Nothing else. Maximos will think you ordered the D & C.”
She ground her teeth together. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Yes, well, you don’t know Maximos very well if you think he’ll find that an acceptable excuse.” Emilio pushed the dress toward her again. “Now go change because there’s fashionably late, and then there’s just very late and I prefer to be the former, not the latter.”
Back in her bedroom, Cass woodenly unzipped her turquoise designer gown, slowly stepping out of the soft fabric and laying it flat on the bed.
Even more slowly she unhooked her delicate lace bra and with trembling hands drew the sheer white gown toward her.
Even if Emilio was dating her doctor, how could he get a copy of her records? That was illegal. Patient records were confidential.
But Emilio doesn’t play by the rules, does he?
No, she answered herself, and now her secret was out. She had been pregnant. And she’d suffered a horrible miscarriage—the pain had been unbelievable and even that awful pain had been nothing compared to the heartbreak. She’d wanted the baby. Wanted the baby desperately.
It didn’t matter anymore, did it?
Wearily Cass pulled the slip dress over her head, down on her shoulders, smoothing the sheer fabric over her hips.
Stepping into the bathroom she looked at herself in the mirror.
It was