She wished that Nico would leave her alone, and that Renzo would never find out who had fathered her baby. Too late, a voice in her head told her. If you’d wanted that, you never should have told him.
She stood there a few minutes more before she turned to climb back up the steps as people jostled for position. She came to an abrupt stop when she looked up and realized who stood at the top, waiting for her.
So much for wishes.
He was silhouetted against the purpling sky, his dark form drawing more eyes than just hers. Tina’s heart skipped a beat as she gazed up into that beautiful dark face. His hands were in his pockets. He looked, for the barest of moments, lonely.
But that could not be right. Niccolo Gavretti was not the kind of man who would ever be lonely. He was wealthy, titled and gorgeous. And, as she knew from experience, a sensual and amazing lover.
He was the last person in the world who should ever be lonely.
He held out a hand to her, beckoning her. She took the last few steps, reluctantly placing her hand in his as she neared the top. He steadied her over the last step and then she was standing beside him, her purse clasped to her chest like a shield.
As if anything could protect her from him.
“I’ve made an appointment with one of the city’s top obstetricians, unless you have a doctor you prefer.”
She shook her head, suddenly defeated. If she ran, he would follow, and if she fought, he would fight back. He was a force to be reckoned with, and she did not truly want to fight him. That was not how she wished her relationship with the father of her baby to be. If she had a hope of staving off trouble, she would go with him. For now.
Nico put a hand in her back and guided her through the crowd until they popped out onto a street nearby. A dark Mercedes sat with the engine idling, and when they approached it a man got out and opened the door for them.
Once they were inside, the doors closed and they were soon moving through traffic. The glass was up between the driver and them, and there was nothing but silence in the rich interior of the car.
“Now would be a good time to show me the scar,” Nico said at last.
“I’m not sure I want to,” she said softly. “I think I liked it better when you thought I was lying.”
The leather squeaked as he turned toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you, Valentina.”
“Or my family,” she added firmly. Because she realized now that it was a very real possibility he would go after Renzo somehow. She had seriously underestimated the depth of his hatred for her brother—and Renzo’s for him.
There was silence for a moment. “I can’t promise that.”
Her heart felt pinched in her chest. She pictured Renzo with Faith and their son, and it killed her to think that she could be responsible for causing them trouble. “I will do as you ask, without complaint, so long as you leave Renzo out of this.”
He studied her for a long moment. “I’m still not positive he doesn’t have something to do with this situation. Why would I leave him out of it?”
This is your fault.
Yes, it was her fault. Anger began to swell inside her again, crowding out the despair, glowing and expanding until she thought she would burst with it, until her skin was on fire from trying to contain it all. Men!
“I love my brother, but if you think for one moment I would agree to some scheme that involved me getting pregnant just so he could get back at you somehow, then you are insane! What woman in her right mind would let her body be used like that for the express purpose of revenge? I have no idea what happened between you, but no one died so I’m pretty certain it wasn’t that bad. What you’re suggesting is disgusting.
“And not only that,” she added when he didn’t say anything, “I think the two of you are pigheaded and foolish for allowing this to continue all these years. It’s childish to have a mortal enemy. No one has mortal enemies these days.”
“Rich men do,” he said, but for once his voice wasn’t harsh or hard or angry.
Tina folded her arms against her body. “I doubt it’s that bad. I simply think you make it so.”
“What an innocent life you’ve led,” he replied, and a current of old shame flooded her.
Yes, she’d been naive for far too long. She’d grown up sheltered, pampered and scared to say boo. Boarding school, and then university, had done much to erode her shyness—but at heart she was still that girl who hid behind her hair and feared the world.
Except that she refused to show that fear. To anyone. She put a hand over her belly. She had to be strong now, no matter what. No matter that she was scared. No matter that she quaked inside at the thought of what she’d done to her family.
“If by ‘innocent’ you mean that I fail to see the need to harm others, then fine, call me innocent.”
He made a soft noise of disbelief. “In business, my dear, you must always be willing to be ruthless. It’s the only way to survive and thrive.”
“And yet it’s not necessary in one’s personal life, is it? Any man who is ruthless in his personal life will soon find himself alone.”
“Perhaps it’s not so bad to be alone,” he said. “Able to choose when you share your life and bed with someone, and able to go home again when you’re tired of the work that being with another person takes.”
“It sounds like an empty life,” she said sadly.
His jaw tightened only slightly, but she knew she’d scored a hit. What she didn’t know was why. She’d spent the past few years reading about him in the papers, and he seemed anything but lonely or empty. Yet he reacted to her words as if he had been. It made her wonder what he kept hidden from the world.
“Show me the scar,” he commanded her, and her feelings of empathy dissolved like smoke.
Tina clenched her teeth together. She wanted to refuse, but what was the point? She was pregnant with his child. She’d started this ball rolling down the hill and she had no choice but to go along for the ride.
Angrily, she ripped her shirt from her jeans and shoved the waistband down just enough for him to see the short scar running diagonally across her lower abdomen. She heard his breath hiss in, and then his fingertips slid along her skin, tracing the edges.
Tina went utterly still while inside her body sizzled and sparked like fireworks on New Year’s Eve. Flame followed in the wake of his fingers, and pain, as well. Not from the scar—it was too old to hurt—but from the strength of the need that took up residence in her core and refused to abate.
Nico looked up then, his eyes reflecting the same heat that she knew must be in her own. With a strength of will she would have never guessed she possessed, she pushed his hand away and hastily tucked her shirt back in. Her cheeks were hot, and she refused to look at him.
He didn’t speak for a long moment. When he did, his voice was more tender than she’d expected it to be.
“It was you.”
Tina realized that tears were pricking her eyes. She looked up at him, uncaring if he saw the emotion written on her face.
“I wish it hadn’t been,” she told him truthfully. Once, she’d fantasized about him, when she’d been young and naive and didn’t know what making love meant. She’d wanted him to fall in love with her, to kiss her and marry her and think she was the