The Italian Billionaire's Pregnant Bride

Her delicate brows pleated and she hovered with perceptible uneasiness. Pink tinting her pale ivory skin, she dragged her attention from him only to be shaken by the compulsion to look afresh. It was as though a piece of indiscernible elastic were tightening and trying to jerk her eyes back to him again by force. ‘I’m sorry—I don’t understand. Look, I’ll come back and finish this later.’

‘No, do it now.’ Sergio arrested her retreat in its tracks with the command. Her apparent bewilderment at his query was making him question his initial suspicions.

Arrogant, demanding, oversexed…Kathy gave him a rude label inside her head, a flush of angry embarrassment colouring her cheeks. She wanted out of his office: she wasn’t stupid. She knew why he had asked if one of his friends had sent her. On another occasion a male member of staff had asked her hopefully if she was a strippergram girl. It infuriated her that such insulting assumptions should be made purely on the basis of her appearance. She was doing her job and she had the same right as anyone else to be left in peace to get on with it! As she knelt back down again she accidentally collided with black eyes that flared as golden as flames and momentarily held her transfixed. For a timeless moment she was still, breathing held in suspension, mouth running dry. Then she blinked, tore her attention free again with difficulty and discovered that her mind was a total blank, for his sensationally attractive image was now stamped there in place of rational thought.

Sergio was watching her every move and she made no effort that he could see to put on a show designed to draw his notice to her. Her clothing was unremarkable, the overall all-concealing. She was not provocative and her movements were very quiet, so why was he still watching her? There was something different about her, an unknown element that stood out and grabbed his attention. The pale pink blush of awareness that had swept her ivory complexion had sent his healthy male hormones on a rampant surge. Her amazing eyes were as green as the bitter-sweet apples his English grandfather had once grown and there was a surprisingly direct look in them. A lingering appraisal of the lush pout of her crushed strawberry mouth was sufficient to arouse him to a serious level of discomfort.

Kathy kept on working at the patch of carpet that she knew needed more specialist attention than she could give it. She was really fighting to think straight but she was amazed by her response to him. No man had had that effect on her since Gareth—and Gareth had never left her so bemused that she scarcely knew what she was doing. But then she had been in love, a dreaming teenager drifting along on a raft of foolish romantic expectations. Her reaction to the guy in the business suit, she reasoned feverishly, was just a reminder that Mother Nature had blessed her with the same physical chemistry as every other human being and sexual attraction was just a part of that. Maybe she should be welcoming the discovery that a broken heart and disillusionment hadn’t entirely killed off her ability to feel like a normal woman.

‘Excuse me…’ she muttered with careful politeness, moving across the room to leave.

Instinct made Sergio spring upright. Near the doorway she lifted her bright head, her apple green eyes telegraphing her tension. The words of amused protest he had been about to voice to retain her presence went unspoken. Madonna diavolo, she was a cleaner and he a Torrente! His strong bone structure tautened, rigorous self-discipline reinstated. What was he thinking of? But he still could not accept that it was a coincidence that such a strikingly beautiful woman should be working so close to his office and conveniently available at his first call. It was even more unusual for him to work late without his customary support staff in attendance. It had to be some kind of a set-up!

Sergio was well aware that his fabulous wealth made him a constant target. Women frequently went to extreme lengths to catch his eye. Vital pieces of clothing slipped so that he could see what was on offer and how easily available it was. Any shade of gallantry in his character had turned to hardened cynicism while he was still a teenager. Too many maidens in distress had vied for his attention with fake incidents that ranged from cars that had broken down, doors that wouldn’t unlock and flights that had been mysteriously missed to last-minute accommodation problems and sudden attacks of illness. Innumerable women had used the tactics of guile and trickery just to get the chance to meet Sergio and spark his interest. A seemingly respectable and very bright PA had once stripped down to her saucy lingerie to bring him coffee, while several others had used late meetings and business trips to get naked and raunchy for his benefit. At the age of thirty-one, he had received countless sexual invitations, some subtle, most of them bold and a few downright strange.

The door safely shut behind her again, Kathy drank in a quivering breath of oxygen to replenish her starved lungs. She wondered who he was and then discarded the thought again. What did it matter to her who he was? On the way past the chessboard, with its pieces fashioned of polished metal and glittering stones, she hesitated, studied the state of play and swiftly sacrificed a pawn, hoping to tempt the other player into relaxing their guard. Was it him? She thought it highly improbable: there were two other large offices linked to that inner hallway and one of them contained half a dozen desks. A posh guy with gold cuff links and a cold upper-class accent that just shrieked an English public school education struck her as a very unlikely candidate for exchanging long-distance chess moves with a total stranger. She sped back down the corridor to continue the work he had interrupted.

Sergio was closing his laptop when the phone rang.

‘We’ve got the mysterious chess joker on camera, sir,’ Renzo revealed with satisfaction.

‘When did you manage that? This evening?’

‘The incident took place last night. I’ve had a man checking the surveillance footage for hours. I think you’ll be surprised by what I’ve found out.’

‘So, surprise me,’ Sergio urged, stifling his impatience.

‘It’s a young woman, one of the maintenance staff, who works nights—a cleaner called Kathy Galvin. She started here a month ago.’

Incredulity awakened in Sergio’s cool dark features and was swiftly followed by strong curiosity. ‘Send the relevant images to my computer.’

Sergio ran the footage on screen while keeping Renzo on the telephone, and there she was: the ravishing redhead. He watched her get up from the sofa in the vestibule where she had evidently been taking a nap and stretch. With a cursory glance down at the board she moved the white knight. Was it sexist to suspect that someone much cleverer was advising her by mobile phone on her skilful game? She then began to tidy her tousled hair, unclasping it and pulling out a comb. He was put in mind of a mermaid showing off her crowning glory to tempt sailors onto the rocks. He wondered if she knew the camera was there while he feasted his attention on her exquisite face and froze her image on screen.

‘It’s misconduct, sir,’ Renzo told him eagerly.

‘You think so?’ Sergio got up from his desk, taking the portable phone with him as he strolled out to take a look at the chessboard. Evidently she had abandoned caution and made another move directly after leaving his office. Why? No doubt she was keen to help him to speedily unveil her identity and take the bait. Illicit napping on the job aside, the humble toil of cleaning duties had to be a serious challenge for a woman only doing it in an effort to cross his path.

‘She’ll be disciplined, probably sacked by the contract company when we lodge a complaint—’

‘No. Leave this matter with me and be discreet about it,’ Sergio interposed softly. ‘I’ll handle it.’

‘You’ll handle it, sir?’ his security chief repeated in audible astonishment. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course. I also want that surveillance camera put out of commission right now.’ Sergio tossed the phone down. His astute dark eyes were shot through with derisive gold. So she wasn’t a genuine hard-working salt-of-the-earth cleaner worthy of his respect. Why had he been willing to believe she was for even five minutes? Put that glorious face and body in tandem with the creative chess game aimed at attracting his attention and he had yet another gold-digger in hot and original pursuit.

Open season for the hunt, Sergio mused with sardonic amusement. He was a hell of a good shot and he intended to have some fun. And sooner rather than later, because he was leaving London the next day to compete in a cross-country skiing marathon in Norway. After that he had business to attend to in New York. It would be ten days before he was back in the UK.

Rising to his full imposing height of six feet three inches, Sergio strode out of the office and down the corridor in search of his quarry. He found her dusting a desk. Her fabulous hair glittered in multi-shaded splendour below the ceiling lights. When she straightened and saw him in the doorway, an expression of surprise grew on her delicate features. Grudging amusement assailed Sergio: she knew how to stay in role all right. Looking at that frowning air of enquiry, nobody would have dreamt that she had been teasing and tantalising him with a game that he considered very much his own for almost three weeks.

‘Let’s play chess in the real world, bella mia,’ Sergio suggested with silken cool. ‘I challenge you to finish the game tonight. If you win, you get me. If you lose, you still get me. How can you lose?’

CHAPTER TWO

KATHY stared at Sergio Torrente for a good ten seconds. Her every expectation was shattered by that challenge coming at her out of the blue, and from such a source as the powerfully built male confronting her. For a long time now, she had protected herself by never taking a risk and never stepping out of line to be noticed. Sudden unexpected attention from a stranger and the belated realisation that she had foolishly invited it unnerved her.

Yet she was mortifyingly aware that it was his bold, dark masculine beauty that claimed her attention first. Win or lose, he was on offer? Was he serious? If he was, would she dare to take him up on it? While she’d worked she had told herself that he could not have been half as attractive as she had thought he was. Now here he was again in the flesh to blow that staid and sensible belief right out of the water. Just looking at the proud, chiselled planes of his darkly handsome features gave her the strangest sense of pleasure. A frisson of dangerous exhilaration gripped her while butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She parted her lips without even knowing what she intended to say. ‘I—er—’

Glittering black eyes centred on her with laser beam intensity. ‘Backing down from a face-to-face contest?’ he murmured with unconcealed scorn.

Anger shot through Kathy with a power and sharpness that she had forgotten she could feel and she lifted her chin in answer. ‘Are you kidding?’

Sergio stepped back to allow her to precede him from the room. ‘Then let’s go and play.’

‘But I’m working,’ Kathy pointed out with a slow bemused shake of her head. ‘For goodness’ sake, who are you?’

A mocking ebony brow quirked. ‘Is that a serious question?’

‘Why wouldn’t it be?’

‘I am Sergio Torrente and I own the Torrenco Group,’ Sergio delivered drily, wondering whether she thought it was clever to make what he considered to be an outrageous claim of ignorance. ‘Every company in this block belongs to me. I find it hard to believe that you’re not aware of those facts.’

Kathy was paralysed to the spot by that revelation. It had not even occurred to her that he might be that important. But, even so, she had never heard of him before. She had never been on any floor other than the one she was on now and she had had no interest whatsoever in the business world or the personalities that powered the huge building during the hours of daylight.

‘So will you play?’ Sergio prompted with impatience.

An adrenalin rush was firing self-preservation skills in Kathy. It was clear to her that she had picked the wrong chessboard to get familiar with and the wrong guy. Why had she not even suspected that he might be her opponent? His smooth urbane façade had deceived her, she conceded tautly. He radiated an aura of sophisticated ease and cool. But the breathtaking elegance of his designer suit concealed a purebred predator, for he was a highly aggressive and clever player who took advantage of every tactical opportunity to attack. In short, he was very much an Alpha male incapable of ignoring any perceived challenge to prove his strength. Not a guy to tangle with, not a guy to offend.

‘I could take my break now,’ Kathy told him, ready to get her punishment over with, as instead of beating him in two moves as she had previously planned she decided that it would be wiser to let him win.

Sergio nodded, hooded dark golden eyes nailed to her because he had yet to work out what script she was trying to follow. Was he really supposed to credit that she didn’t know who he was?

‘I’ve had the board moved into my office so that we can play undisturbed.’

Her heart was now beating very fast with nervous tension. He thrust open the door of his office, then stood back. Momentarily she was close enough to catch the faint evocative scent of some expensive male cologne. She snatched in a charged breath. ‘How did you know it was me? How did you find out?’

‘That’s not important.’

‘It’s important to me,’ she dared.

‘Surveillance camera,’ he supplied.

Kathy lost colour. There was a security camera in that hallway? She was appalled by that news. She took her breaks there and, once or twice, when she had been very tired, she had set the alarm on her watch and taken a nap on that sofa. Proof of those facts would be sufficient to put her out of a job.

‘Would you like a drink?’

Her slender figure now tense as a bowstring, Kathy hovered in the centre of the carpet. A pool of light shone across the board and the sofas in one corner. It was a very intimate backdrop. If the supervisor came looking for her and found her in such a situation she would get totally the wrong idea and alcohol was a sackable offence. ‘Are you trying to get me fired?’

‘If you don’t talk, I won’t,’ Sergio countered with lazy indifference.