She swallowed hard, an unexpected wave of emotion washing over her. “Thank you.”
Then, as though he had not just softened for her, he straightened, his eyes unreadable again. “Then it is settled. We are staying here for the foreseeable future.”
“Why?” Her heart was pounding fast, fluttering in her chest like a panicked bird.
“Because I don’t trust you. I do not trust that you will not find a way to make off with my money and my baby. Your word has limited value to me.”
His words cut close to the bone, because there was so much truth to them. Because initially she had intended to take his money and go. Because she was a liar, and she had proven herself to be. And she could not even find a shred of righteous indignation to throw back at him. “I am being honest with you,” she said. It was all she could say.
He looked at her, his gaze hard. “I cannot read you, and I find that disturbing. Are you a practiced con woman? Are you an innocent virgin? Are you a tough girl from the wrong side of the tracks forced into criminal activity because of your circumstances and your upbringing? I don’t know. Because I have seen you play all those roles. And you play them all very well.”
“Maybe I’m all of them.” She reached down and put her fingers on her water glass, turning it in a circle. “And what about you? Who are you? A lonely boy without a mother? The wicked predator who blackmailed me into bed?”
“I am definitely the second. I decided long ago to move past where I began. Feeling guilty doesn’t benefit you, Charity. You make decisions—you must own them.”
“So, you don’t think I should feel guilty about the money my father took and the part I played in it?”
He took a sip of his wine. “If I were you? I wouldn’t feel guilty in the least. However, I am not you. I am me, and I had to ensure that you paid for what you did.”
“With sex.”
“I already told you,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “That was not part of the plan.”
“And I already told you I don’t trust people. I’m not sure why you think I should take you at your word.”
“Because I have no reason to lie to you. Not on that score.”
Charity laughed and took a piece of bread from the basket at the center of the table. “Who is going to teach our child morals? It seems that you and I both lack them.”
How was she supposed to teach a child right and wrong? How was she supposed to enforce consequences for wrong behavior when she’d spent so much of her life dodging consequences.
When she’d been a thief for so long.
For the first time she wondered if she deserved to go to prison. She didn’t want to. But she was guilty of all she was accused of.
She clenched her hands into fists, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t go to jail. Then her child wouldn’t have a mother.
She could be better, though. Something was changing in her. For the first time she didn’t just know that stealing from him was wrong. She felt it.
Rocco frowned. “We should get a nanny.”
Charity was about to disagree, but then realized he was probably right. She didn’t know the first thing about babies, after all. Someone was going to have to show her how to change a diaper.
“We...we probably should.”
“We will worry about that a little bit later. For now, I suggest we get used to dealing with each other.”
“Do we have to?” she asked, picking up her glass of water. “We could always just ignore each other.”
“I would much rather sleep with you again.”
She sputtered. “What?”
“Why not? We are attracted to one another. And you will be here indefinitely. It could benefit us both.”
“Yeah. No.” She picked up another piece of bread and ate it. “I spend most days feeling a lot like I just licked the underside of a shoe. So I can honestly tell you that sex is the furthest thing from my mind. In fact, I’m a little bit angry at sex. I blame sex.”
He shrugged, looking completely unconcerned by her refusal. “Fair enough.”
She was slightly wounded that he didn’t press. Which was ridiculous. She should not be wounded. She should be thrilled. Or something. She didn’t want to sleep with him again. He hated her. He had only brought her here because she was having his baby.
Come to that, she wasn’t that fond of him.
Yes, in that hotel suite, in the heat of the moment, with a veil of fantasy drawn around them that had begun with that note and that lingerie, something had caught fire between them. But here, with the brine from the ocean playing havoc with her sensitive stomach, the cool breeze blowing across her skin, raising goose bumps on her arms, things felt all too real.
Still, the rejection stung a little bit, even if she didn’t know why. Some sort of previously unknown feminine sexual pride that had been uncovered by their indiscretion.
Just another bit of evidence to prove that sleeping with him in the first place was incredibly stupid.
“So that’s it then?”
“Did you think I was going to pine after you?” He looked her over, his dark eyes conveying a kind of dismissiveness that cut deep. “I’m used to much more experienced women, cara mia, and while your innocence had a certain charm I prefer a partner who understands the way a man’s body works.”
Heat assaulted her cheeks. “You were the one who propositioned me.”
“Because it made sense. I’m not a man prepared to go without sex. I’m hardly going to be celibate, so the decision is yours. Either I sleep with you or I will find someone else.”
A ball of rage lodged itself in her chest. She couldn’t quite work out why. She had refused him, so, by that logic, he should be free to share his body with whoever he wanted. But she didn’t feel that he should be. His body belonged to her. At least, that was what it felt like. He was the only man she had ever touched like that. The only man who had ever been inside her. How could that not feel significant to him? It didn’t seem fair.
But she would not show him her feelings. She would not reveal herself. “Do what you want. I’m not bothered. Just don’t touch me.”
“I always do what I want. But your gesture of offering permission was cute.” He stood, picking up his glass of wine and swallowing the rest of the contents before setting it back on the table. “And on that note, I believe I will go out and do what I please. Have a good evening.”
He turned and walked off the terrace, leaving her sitting there. Alone.
She picked up another piece of bread and bit into it with no small amount of ferocity. She didn’t care what he went to do. She did not own him. She did not own his body, in spite of her earlier thoughts on the subject.
She didn’t want to go out. She wanted to sit here. And eat. Go to bed early.
Master of the Manor aside, the house was beautiful, and she should just enjoy being here. The money her father had stolen would never gain him admittance into a place like this. To a man like Rocco a million dollars was a drop in an endless sea.
So, she would sit here and enjoy the fact that, although her father had abandoned her and left her to take the fall, she was the one sitting in a villa in Italy.
With a man who had blackmailed her into bed. And had got her pregnant. And was headed out to undoubtedly