The Italian Billionaire's Pregnant Bride

Lean dark features uniformly grim, Sergio was getting dressed. ‘The condom tore.’

Kathy flinched and turned paler than ever but she said nothing in response. Indeed she refused even to look at him. This is what it’s like when you get intimate with someone you don’t know—awkward, humiliating, shaming, she reflected painfully. She fought her way into her panties with trembling hands, hauled on her T-shirt and wrenched on her jeans with so much force that she scratched the skin on her thighs.

‘Obviously that doesn’t bother you too much,’ Sergio growled, outraged that she was simply ignoring him.

‘What bothers me most at this moment is that I had sex with a truly horrible guy. I know I’m going to live with this mistake for a long, long time,’ Kathy shared in a low-pitched tone of fierce regret. ‘Getting pregnant by you would add a whole new dimension to this nightmare and I can’t believe that even I could be that unlucky.’

‘I doubt if that will be your reaction if it happens. Having my child could be a very lucrative lifestyle choice,’ Sergio drawled with icy bite.

‘Why do you think everyone’s out to rip you off?’ Kathy demanded in the rage that was steadily banishing any desire she might have had to take refuge in a small dark corner. ‘Or is it just me you reserve the offensive accusations for? You really shouldn’t mess around with the cleaning staff, Mr Torrente. Your nerves aren’t cut out for it!’

‘You need to calm down so that we can discuss this like adults.’ Sergio breathed, glittering dark eyes locking to her with determined force, his expectations once again turned upside down by her behaviour. ‘Sit down, please.’

‘No.’ Kathy shook her head vehemently, her wildly tousled copper-streaked hair flying back from her flushed cheekbones in vibrant splendour. ‘I don’t want to discuss anything with you. I had too much to drink. I did something I wish I hadn’t done. You have been very, very rude to me.’

‘That was not my intention.’ Sergio aimed at striking a peaceful note, while he continued to watch her with shrewd concentration. Her heated distress was convincingly real and she was definitely slurring her words a little. She looked very young and quite magnificent.

Kathy loosed an unimpressed laugh, for she was not taken in by that smooth inflection. ‘No, you couldn’t care less if you were rude or not! You think you can get away with it.’

‘You could well be right,’ Sergio drawled in the same even tone. ‘It’s an unfortunate fact that gold-diggers target me—’

‘You deserve a gold-digger!’ Kathy snapped with furious conviction. ‘If you think for one minute that that explanation excuses you for talking to me as if I was a prostitute, you’re seriously out of line!’

‘I wasn’t aware that I made an excuse.’

Scornful dismissal flamed in Kathy’s shimmering gaze. ‘You haven’t even got the manners for that, have you?’

‘If you could rise above my failings in that department, I believe we have more important things to consider—’

‘I doubt if I’ll be pregnant, but if the worst was to happen, you don’t need to worry,’ Kathy tossed at him glibly as she walked to the door. ‘I wouldn’t even consider going for the “lucrative lifestyle choice” option!’

‘That’s not funny,’ Sergio intoned grimly.

‘Neither are your assumptions about me.’ Kathy marched down the corridor, and when she registered that he was following her she hastened into the lift at speed. There she stabbed repeatedly at the button that closed the doors but he still made it past them to join her. The enclosed space felt unbearably claustrophobic. Hostility radiating from her in waves, her willowy figure rigid, she ignored him. She could not understand why he refused to get the message and leave her alone.

Sergio glanced down at his watch only to discover that he was no longer wearing it: he had left his sleek timepiece behind in his office. ‘It’s late. I’ll take you home.’

‘No, thanks.’

As the lift came to a halt Sergio imposed his lean powerful frame between her and the doors opening. ‘I’ll take you home,’ he told her steadily.

‘What is it about the word no that you don’t understand?’

Sergio shifted closer. His intent dark gaze flared gold over her mutinous face. Her continuing defiance and refusal to be reasonable was so far outside his usual experience with women that he was astonished.

‘You’re in my way. I’m getting annoyed with you,’ Kathy warned him, an unevenly drawn breath rasping in her throat as she fired an unwilling glance at him. His dark gaze flashed down into hers like a livewire connection. Excitement came at her out of nowhere. Her heartbeat broke into a sprint, her mouth ran dry.

‘But you feel the burn between us the same way I do, bella mia,’ Sergio husked, reaching out to frame her cheekbones between shapely brown hands, his thumbs delicately smoothing over her fine creamy skin.

For the merest instant she was frozen there, tantalised by his approach and teased by his touch. She was extraordinarily aware of the intimate ache between her thighs and his intense sexual magnetism. Her brain had no control over her body. It terrified her that he could still win that response from her and angry defensiveness overcame her paralysis and forced her into urgent denial. ‘I don’t feel anything!’

Sidestepping him in an impulsive move that took him by surprise, Kathy stalked across the brightly lit empty space of the vast foyer and headed straight for the exit doors. She was in total turmoil, deeply disturbed by what she had allowed to happen between them.

‘Kathy,’ Sergio grated, his patience on the ebb since he had not believed that she would actually walk away from him.

‘Get lost!’ Kathy told him roundly, impervious to the fact that they had an audience. One of the two night security guards on duty, both of whom had been studiously staring into space, abruptly unfroze to hurry forward and thrust a door wide for her. She walked out onto the street.

Renzo Catallone moved forward from his discreet position in the shadow of a pillar to intercept his employer. A stocky man in his forties, he looked unusually ill at ease. ‘I—’

‘While I appreciate that it is your job to take care of my security, your zeal is occasionally more than I require,’ Sergio informed his security chief drily. ‘No more enquiries or checks on Kathy Galvin. She’s off limits.’

‘But—sir—’ Renzo began with a frown of dismay.

‘I don’t want to hear another word about her,’ Sergio instructed in a flat tone of finality. ‘With the exception of one piece of information: the lady’s address.’

CHAPTER THREE

KATHY LAY IN BED sleepless far into the night.

She tossed and turned, her emotions reeling between anger, hurt, shame and resentment. Above all she was disappointed in herself. Why hadn’t she paid heed to her misgivings? Bored of the dullness of her life, she had rebelled like a headstrong teenager. She had lived too quietly, played too safe and Sergio Torrente had been more temptation than she could withstand. But she blamed the alcohol for making her reckless. Why had she pretended that the only attraction on offer was a game of chess?

She splayed apprehensive fingers across her concave tummy. The very idea of falling pregnant terrified her: taking care of her own needs was enough of a challenge. She told herself off for panicking. What was that going to achieve? Why did she always expect the worst? It was true that she had suffered some serious bad luck in recent years, but then, she reasoned doggedly, everybody had to live through bad times at some stage.

The next morning she fed Tigger and tried to think only resolutely upbeat thoughts. It was her day off and she could not afford to waste it. She needed to do research at the library for an essay. For the past year she had been studying for a degree with the Open University. On the way to the library, however, she called into a pharmacy and read the small print on the back of a pregnancy test to work out how soon she could use one.

She was queuing for the bus when her mobile phone rang. The cleaning company had received a complaint about her performance at the Torrenco building and, as a result, her services were no longer required.

Being sacked hit Kathy like a bolt from the blue. Sergio Torrente had had her fired! How could any guy sink that low? But, then, was such callous behaviour really that unusual? She suffered an unwelcome recollection of being dumped—not by Gareth but by his mother—and her tummy lurched in humiliated remembrance. Her childhood sweetheart had not even had the courage to tell her himself. He had abandoned her at a time when his support had felt like her only hope. His lack of faith in her had made her imprisonment for a crime she had not committed all the harder to bear.

Her memory dragged her back to the summer she had finished school. Her plans to study law at university had been on hold because her father was dying. After he had passed away, she’d had six months to fill before she could take up her deferred university place. She had accepted a live-in job as a career for Agnes Taplow, an elderly woman whom Kathy had been told was suffering from dementia.

When the old lady complained to Kathy that pieces of her antique silver collection were going missing, Agnes Taplow’s niece had assured Kathy that her aunt was imagining things. But items had continued to disappear without trace. The police had been called in to investigate and a small but rare early Georgian jug had been found in Kathy’s handbag. That same day Kathy had been charged with theft. Initially she had been confident that the true culprit, who could only have hidden the jug in her bag to implicate her, would soon be exposed. Caught up in a web of deceit and lies, and with no family of her own to fight her corner, Kathy had been unable to prove her innocence. The court had found her guilty of theft and she’d had to serve her prison sentence.

But those events had taken place at a time when she was too immature and powerless to act in her own defence, Kathy reminded herself urgently. Since then she had learned how to look after herself. Why should she allow Sergio Torrente to get away with putting her out of work? It was hard to see how she could prevent him. He had wealth, status and power and she had none of those things. But even if she couldn’t change anything she had the right to tell him what she thought of him. Indeed standing up for the sake of her self-esteem felt like the only strength she had left.

‘I’m afraid there’s no sign of your watch, Mr Torrente. I’ve searched every inch of your office,’ the security man reported ruefully.

With a faint frown marking his sleek ebony brows, Sergio rose from behind his desk because he had a flight to Norway to catch. Of course there would be a simple explanation. When he had discarded his watch the night before, it must have fallen somewhere beneath the furniture. Searches were rarely as thorough as people liked to think they were. The watch was mislaid, rather than missing, and theft was an unlikely possibility. He did not suffer from Renzo’s paranoia about strangers. It would, however, Sergio felt, be naïve to overlook the fact that his platinum watch was extremely valuable.

His entire personal staff was engaged in an urgent whispered consultation by the door. He was exasperated by the cloud of stress and indecision that hung over them. His efficient senior executive assistant was on vacation and her subordinates seemed lost without her. Finally, one broke away from the group and approached him in an apologetic manner. ‘A woman called Kathy Galvin is out in Reception, sir. She’s not on the approved list but she seems convinced that you will want to see her.’

Cool, hard satisfaction stamped Sergio’s darkly handsome face. As he had suspected, Kathy’s big walk-out had been an empty gesture. He was relieved that he had not sent her flowers, for conciliatory gestures were not his style. ‘I do. She can travel to the airport with me.’

The PA could not conceal his surprise, since Sergio never saw anyone without an appointment and the women in his life invariably knew better than to interrupt his working day. A pleasurable sense of sexual anticipation building, Sergio began to plan his return to London in a fortnight’s time. He strolled out to the private lift that would whisk him down to the car park.

Her vibrant head held high, soft colour defining her slanting cheekbones and bright green eyes, Kathy stepped through the door that had been opened for her. Her heart was beating very fast. Having assumed she was being granted a private meeting with Sergio, she was dismayed when she saw him standing with other men in the corridor. Tall, broad shouldered and dark, he dominated the group in more than the physical sense as he had the potent presence of a powerful man.