Chapter Seven
Rafael
She sits on the couch in front of me, wrapped in her red coat, her inky hair spilling over it. Her cheeks are flushed from the cool night air and her amber eyes are as bright with anger as the flames at my back. She has a reason to be angry, it’s true, but I’m not going to let that deter me.
I spent the journey from Athens to my villa on the coast of Sicily organising everything I need to claim her once and for all.
A marriage licence. A priest to conduct the ceremony.
Rings and a gown for her, as well as an entirely new wardrobe of clothes suitable for a pregnant woman.
Then, of course, a doctor to look after her pregnancy.
The villa is special to me. It’s my family home, the place I was born in and grew up in, and it’s the one thing I have of my parents that I managed to save from being sold after my father died.
I had financial help to save it, naturally, and that help came with strings attached.
Those Cosa Nostra strings, to be precise, and I was in no position to refuse.
I did cut those strings eventually, but by then it was too late.
The violence I meted out as an enforcer ended up tainting my soul and that taint will never come out.
Olympia will live here and our baby will be born here, too, and I will not be moved on this.
She won’t like it, I can already tell that the golden flames in her eyes will burn higher once she finds out, but I will brook no argument.
It’s the most secure of my residences, not to mention one that no one knows about, so if her brother comes looking for her—and he will, I have no doubt—he’ll have to work at finding her.
‘You’re pregnant with my child,’ I say into the heavy silence.
‘Really? I had no idea.’ Her tone is sarcastic, the look she gives me disdainful.
She looks so composed sitting there on the couch, as if she’s isolating herself as much as possible from her surroundings and purposely. There is no sign of her beautiful smile, no glints of mischief in her eyes, none of the warm openness she treated me with back in Singapore.
Now, her chin is lifted and her expression is haughty almost, as if she is an empress and I am merely the lackey there to do her bidding, and not the man looking to bind her to him forever.
Brave, dragonfly.
‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?’ I don’t try to make the question sound any less than the demand it is or attempt to hide the fury lacing the words.
Her chin lifts a little higher in response.
‘Because I didn’t want to believe it was true.
I tried not to think about it for the first few months and then, when I couldn’t not think about it, I went to the doctor.
’ Her gaze turns challenging. ‘And I think the more appropriate question is how do you know?’
She’s trying to change the subject, but I won’t be distracted. ‘You tried not to think about it? And how long exactly were you planning on doing that?’
‘I don’t know,’ she shoots back. ‘It’s not like I’ve ever been pregnant before.’
Don’t harangue her. It’s your child she’s pregnant with and it’s hardly her fault. She was a sheltered virgin, which means the responsibility for protection was on you.
It’s an unwelcome thought. It’s true that the duty for protection that night was mine, and one I failed at, and I don’t like failing, not at anything.
I also don’t like the twist of sympathy tightening in my chest that has me noting the darkened shadows under her pretty eyes and thinking that perhaps tucking her up into bed is what I should be doing instead of having this conversation.
But it’s a conversation we need to have and better to have it now than later, so I say, ‘I’m not hard to find, Olympia. You should have contacted me.’
‘Fine, I should have and I didn’t. I’m sorry. Now, answer the question.’
This time I accept the distraction. ‘How did I find out? It wasn’t until after I left Singapore that I remembered we had used no protection. So I tried to find your contact details to get in touch with you, but I was unable to find any.’ I pause. ‘Your brother keeps you extremely well hidden.’
She ignores that, continuing to stare hostilely at me.
‘I have contacts that can get me information for a price,’ I go on. ‘And I was able to find out which doctor you went to see, then I bribed her to tell me what it was about. She told me you were pregnant.’
Incredulity ripples over Olympia’s face. ‘You bribed her?’
She is horrified, as any normal law-abiding person would be. Then again, being horrified is a privilege, which she would most certainly have as the cosseted sister of a very rich and powerful man.
But I don’t point that out, instead I say, ‘It wasn’t ideal but I needed to know, since it was clear you weren’t going to tell me.’
She has the grace to look away at that, but it shows more clearly the faint, dark shadows beneath her eyes, and the wave of protectiveness hits me again, the urge to wrap her up and put her to sleep in my bed almost overwhelming me.
But I resist. We need to have this conversation and we need to have it now.
‘The baby is mine,’ I say into the heavy silence. ‘And I am going to claim it, Olympia. Which is why we will be getting married as soon as possible.’
Her head turns, her gaze snapping back to mine. ‘What?’
‘The child will have my name,’ I say. ‘It will be my heir and, for the greatest legal protection for both the baby and you, we need to marry.’
She blinks, obviously struggling to process what I’ve just said. ‘But…but I don’t want to marry you.’
‘I don’t care. You are marrying me and that is final.’
Her gaze flares and abruptly she pushes herself up off the couch, coming to stand right in front of me, all bright fury and challenge. ‘Just because you’re the father of my baby doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do. I am not marrying you, you stupid man. I am not marrying anyone.’
She’s standing very close and I can smell the deliciously sweet scent of her, roses after rain, and she’s warm, and instantly I’m so hard it’s almost painful.
It’s inexplicable that I should feel this way, after all, I’ve already had her and it’s not as if I’ve been a monk in the months since.
I shouldn’t be so hungry, so desperate, and yet my body isn’t listening to sense and she’s impossible to resist.
I can’t stop myself from reaching out to grip her upper arms and I hear the rush of her indrawn breath as my fingers close on the soft wool of her coat.
Her eyes widen and her mouth opens. Her lips are as full and red as her coat, and I remember how they taste.
I remember how she tastes and once again… Dio.
She’s breathing fast and, as I watch, her pupils dilate. She feels it too, I know she does. I can see it in her eyes, in the pulse that beats hard and fast at the base of her throat. I don’t move and neither does she as our gazes lock and hold.
‘You have been haunting me for four months, dragonfly,’ I hear myself say in a rough voice, even though I never meant to speak. ‘You need to stop.’
She takes a shaky breath. ‘Why? It was clear you were done with me when you told me to leave.’
Beneath the fury in her amber eyes, I see the hurt. I can hear it in her voice, too. I heard it that same night, just before she walked out the door, but that was because I wanted her to forget me. Yet it’s clear she hasn’t and, even though it’s wrong, that pleases me. That pleases me intensely.
‘I lied.’ I should release her, yet my fingers tighten instead.
She doesn’t seem to notice. Her amber gaze searches mine, searching for the truth. ‘Why?’
I can’t give her the truth. I can’t tell her my real motivations, not at this delicate stage.
The shock might hurt her and the baby, and for some reason I can’t stand the thought of that, so I settle for a lesser truth.
‘Because I am a bad man. And I thought it was better if you stayed away from me.’
‘A bad man,’ she echoes, her gaze dropping to my mouth and then back up again. Her breathing has accelerated, I can hear it. She’s hungry. She’s hungry just like me. ‘I don’t think you are.’
‘You don’t know me.’ I can feel her heat, her luscious body so close to mine, and I can’t think with her so close. I should step away. I can’t afford to be distracted while we’re discussing this and yet I can’t make myself release her. ‘You know nothing about me.’
Her hands are rising, fingers curling around the lapels of my coat, her gaze on mine hypnotic. ‘But you know about me, don’t you? You know my brother, too.’
The blood is pumping hard in my veins, the scent of her winding around me. She’s going to guess my secret if I’m not careful and I can’t have her doing that. I need to take control of this somehow and yet it feels impossible. The basest parts of me are now in command and I can’t resist.
‘Show me,’ I grit out, releasing her arms to grip the edges of her coat instead. ‘Show me what I did to you.’
She blinks, not understanding for a moment. Then she does, and colour riots over her face. ‘I don’t think—’
But I’m already pulling open her coat and glancing down. She’s wearing a simple, stretchy black dress that moulds to her every curve, including the small rounded bump of her stomach. Where my child lies.
Possessiveness slides long fingers around my throat, choking me. The sight has turned me into the most basic version of myself, and I put out a hand to touch her, tracing that soft curve.
I never wanted a wife or children, even though my childhood was idyllic.
But after my father died the child I once was would have been horrified at the things I did to survive.
To work my way up the command chain until I owned the company I used to work for.
To make it one of the biggest construction companies in Europe in a few short years.
The people I dealt with, the sacrifices I made, the blind eyes I turned and all to get where I am today.
Positioned perfectly to take Vulcan Energy out from under Ulysses Zakynthos’s nose.
I’d make a terrible father and I know it, yet the fact that I will be one is staring me in the face and I can’t walk away. I should, of course. Let her go and let my child go with her, and yet I’m not going to. I will keep them both, even if I have to destroy myself to do so.
She shivers as I lay a palm on her stomach and I meet her gaze.
She’s so warm, her pupils dilating as my fingers trace that beautiful curve.
And I don’t stop. I slide my hand down, cupping her stomach, watching the colour burn in her cheeks.
Her mouth opens and a breath escapes her as I slide my hand down even further, down between her thighs and pressing gently through the fabric of her dress.
Her fingers grip the lapels of my coat tightly, her breathing getting faster as I press harder. ‘Rafael…’ she whispers, her gaze still pinned to mine.
I can see desperation there and rising flames, and so I don’t stop. I stroke her through her dress, listening to her breathing get even faster, watching pleasure suffuse her beautiful face.
She’s trembling so I slide my other arm around her waist, pulling her close, supporting her as I stroke, finding her clit and circling softly, gently. She gasps and begins to pant, her knuckles white as she grips my coat, pleasure turning her inside out.
I’m rock hard, my body screaming at me to end this with her on her back, but I don’t want to stop, I don’t want her to let me go.
I want to watch her come, listen to her gasp my name again and so I don’t stop.
I stroke and circle with my fingers, until her body stiffens in my hold and she’s shaking, and then I bend my head, covering her mouth with mine as she comes.