Kitabı oku: «Scandals Of The Rich», sayfa 4

CHAPTER FOUR

THE EVENING WAS hot and muggy, and Zach stood off to one side of the crowd gathered at the country club. He took a sip from his water glass, cleverly disguised as a mixed drink by the addition of a lime slice and a cocktail stirrer, and then set it on a passing tray.

He never drank at functions like this. It was something he’d learned growing up. Always keep your head and always be prepared for any eventuality. His father hadn’t made a career in politics out of being imprudent, and Zach had learned the lesson well.

These days, however, he was less concerned with the good impression than he was with the opportunity to escape. Once he’d done his duty—made the speech, shook the hands, accepted the honor, cut the ribbon, got the promised funding for the Scott Foundation’s causes—he was gone.

Tonight, he’d had to give a speech. And right now, his father was holding court with a group of people he no doubt hoped would become campaign donors. His mother was circulating with the skill of a career politician’s wife, smiling and making polite small talk.

There were reporters in the room—there were always reporters—but the cameras were thankfully stowed at the moment. They’d come out during his speech, of course, and he’d had to work hard to concentrate on the crowd and not the flashes. A matron came over and started to talk to him. He nodded politely, spoke when necessary and kept his eye on the exit. The second he could excuse himself, he was gone. He’d already been here too long, and he was beginning to feel as if the walls were closing in.

He scanned the crowd out of habit, his gaze landing on a woman who made him think of Sicily. She was standing near the door, her head bowed so he couldn’t see her face. The crowd moved, closing off his view of her. His pulse started to thrum, but of course, she wasn’t Lia Corretti. Lia was in Sicily, no doubt making love to some other lucky bastard. A current of heat slid through him as he remembered her lush body arrayed before him.

If he’d been a different man, he’d have stayed in Sicily and kept her in his bed until they’d grown tired of each other. It’s what the old Zach would have done.

But the man he was now couldn’t take that chance. He’d spent two nights with her and she’d made him feel almost normal again. Yet it was a lie, and he’d known it.

He didn’t know Lia at all, really, but he knew she deserved better than that. Better than him.

“Zach?”

His head whipped around, his gaze clashing with the woman’s who’d moved through the crowd unseen and now stood before him. Shock coursed through him. It was as if he’d blinked and found himself whisked back to a different party. Almost against his will, his body responded to the stimulus of seeing her again. He wasn’t so inexperienced as to allow an unwanted erection, but a tingle of excitement buzzed in his veins nevertheless.

Lia Corretti gazed up at him, her blue-green eyes filled with some emotion he couldn’t place. Her dark red hair was twisted on her head, a few strands falling free to dangle over one shoulder. She was wearing a black dress with high heels and a simple pair of diamond earrings.

She wasn’t dripping in jewels like so many of the women in this room, yet she looked as if she belonged. The woman who’d been talking to him had thankfully melted away, her attention caught by someone else.

“Hello, Lia,” he said, covering his shock with a blandness that belied the turmoil raging inside him. He spoke as if it hadn’t been a month, as if they’d never spent two blissful nights together. As if he didn’t care that she was standing before him when what he really wanted to ask her was what the hell she was doing here.

But he was afraid he knew. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman he’d slept with had gotten the wrong idea. He was a Scott, and Scotts were accustomed to dealing with fortune hunters. She hadn’t seemed to be that type of woman, but clearly he’d been wrong.

He noticed that her golden skin somehow managed to look pale in the ballroom lights. Tight. There were lines around her lips, her eyes. She looked as if she’d been sick. And then she closed her eyes, her skin growing even paler. Instinctively, Zach reached for her arm.

He didn’t count on the electricity sizzling through him at that single touch, or at the way she jerked in response.

“I’m sorry,” she said in English, her accent sliding over the words. “I shouldn’t have come here. I should have found another way.”

“Why are you here?” he demanded, his voice more abrupt than he’d intended it to be.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. Innocent. Why did he think of innocence when he thought of Lia? They’d had a one-night—correction, two-night—stand, but he couldn’t shake the idea that the woman he’d made love to had somehow been innocent before he’d corrupted her.

“I—I need to tell you something.”

“You could have called,” he said coolly.

She shook her head. “Even if you had given me your number …” She seemed to stiffen, her chin coming up defiantly. “It is not the kind of thing one can say over the phone.”

Zach took her by the elbow, firmly but gently, and steered her toward the nearest exit. She didn’t resist. They emerged from the crowded ballroom onto a terrace that overlooked the golf course. It was dark, but the putting green was lit and there were still players practicing their swings.

He let her go and moved out of her orbit, his entire body tight with anger and restlessness. “And what do you wish to say to me, Lia?”

He sounded cold and in control. Inhuman. It was precisely what he needed to be in order to deal with her. He’d let himself feel softer emotions when he’d been with her before, and look where that had gotten him. If he’d been more direct, she wouldn’t be here now. She would know that her chances of anything besides sex from him were nonexistent.

He would not make that mistake again.

Lia blinked. Her tongue darted out over her lower lip, and a bolt of sensation shot through him at that singular movement. His body wanted to react, but he refused to let it. She was a woman like any other, he reminded himself. If sex was what he wanted, he had only to walk back in that ballroom and select a partner.

Her gaze flicked to the door. “Perhaps we should go somewhere more private.”

“No. Tell me what you came to say, and then go back to your hotel.”

She seemed taken aback at the intensity of his tone. She ran a hand down her dress nervously, and then lifted it to tuck one of the dangling locks of hair behind her ear. “You’ve changed,” she said.

He shook his head. “I’d think, rather, that you do not know me.” He spread his hands wide. “This is who I am, Lia. What I am.”

She looked hurt, and he felt an uncharacteristic pinch in his heart. But he knew how to handle this. He knew the words to say because he’d said a variation of them countless times before.

“Palermo was fun. But there can be nothing more between us. I’m sorry you came all this way.”

He’d expected her to crumple beneath the weight of his words. She didn’t. For a long moment, she only stared at him. And then she drew herself up, her eyes flashing. It was not the response he expected, and it surprised him. Intrigued him, too, if he were willing to admit it.

“There can be more,” she said firmly. “There must be more.”

Zach cursed himself. Why, of all the possible women in the world, had he chosen this one to break his long sexual fast with? He’d known there was something innocent about her, something naive. He should have sent her back to her room. Unfortunately, his brain had short-circuited the instant all the blood that should have powered it started flowing south.

“I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea, sugar,” he began.

She didn’t let him finish. Her brows drew down angrily as she closed the distance between them and poked him hard in the chest with a manicured finger. He was too stunned to react. “The wrong idea?” she demanded.

She swore in Italian, curses that somehow sounded so pretty but were actually quite rude if translated. Zach was bemused in spite of himself.

“There were consequences to those two days,” she flashed. “For both of us, bello.”

Ice shot down his spine, sobering him right up again.

“What are you talking about?” he snapped.

Her lips tightened. And then she said the words that sliced through him like a sword thrust to the heart.

“I’m pregnant, Zach. With your baby.”

Lia watched the play of emotions over his face. There was disbelief, of course. Anger. Denial.

She understood all those feelings. She’d experienced each one in the past few days, many times over. But she’d also experienced joy and happiness. And fear. She couldn’t forget the fear.

“That’s impossible,” he said tightly. His handsome face was hard and cold, his eyes like chips of dark, burning ice as they bored into her.

Lia wanted to sit down. She was beginning to regret coming here tonight. She’d only just arrived in Washington today, and she’d hardly rested. She was suffering from the effects of too much air travel, too much stress and too many crazy hormones zinging through her system.

This was not at all how she’d pictured this happening. She hadn’t thought beyond seeing him, hadn’t thought he would force her to tell him her news standing in the darkness and watching men tap golf balls toward a little hole in the ground.

She also hadn’t expected him to be so hostile. So cold.

Lia swallowed against the fear clogging her throat. She had to be brave. She’d already endured so much just to get to this point. There was no going back now.

“Apparently not,” she said, imbuing her voice with iron. “Because I am most assuredly pregnant.”

“How do you know it’s mine?”

His voice was a whip in the darkness, his words piercing her. “Because there has been no one else,” she shot back, fury and hurt roiling like a storm-tossed sea in her belly.

“We spent two nights together, Lia. And we used condoms.” His eyes were hard, furious.

“There was once,” she said, her skin warming. “Once when you, um, when we—”

She couldn’t finish the thought. But he knew. He looked stunned. And then he closed his eyes, and she knew he remembered.

“Christ.”

There’d been one time when they’d been sleeping and he’d grown hard against her as they slowly wakened. He’d slipped inside her, stroked into her lazily a few times, and then withdrew and put on a condom. It had been so random, so instinctive, that neither of them thought about it afterward.

“Exactly,” she said softly, exhaustion creeping into her limbs. Why hadn’t she just stayed at the hotel and slept? Her plan had always been to see him privately, but when she’d seen the announcement in the paper about his speech tonight, she’d become focused on getting here and telling him the news. On sharing this burden with someone who could help her.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

For an entire month, she’d missed him. Missed his warm skin, the scent of soap and man, the way he skimmed his fingers over her body, the silky glide of his lips against hers.

The erotic pulse of his body inside hers, taking her to heights she’d never before experienced.

Lia shivered, though it was not cold. A drop of sweat trickled between her breasts. She felt … moist. And she definitely needed to sit down.

Zach stood ramrod straight on the terrace before her. “You may be pregnant, but that doesn’t make the baby mine,” he said. She swallowed down the nausea that had been her constant companion—it was lessening thanks to medication the doctor had prescribed—and tried to bring him into focus. “We were together two nights. How do I know you didn’t have another lover?”

Lia’s heart ached. She’d known he might not take the news well—what man would when a spontaneous encounter with a stranger turned life-altering in such a huge way?—but she hadn’t expected him to accuse her of having another lover. Of basically coming all this way to lie to him.

“I need to get out of this heat,” she choked out, turning blindly. She couldn’t stand here and defend herself when she just wanted to sit down somewhere cool. When her heart hurt and her stomach churned and she wanted to cry.

She’d only taken a few steps toward the door when she felt as if the bottom was dropping out from under her. Lia shot a hand out and braced herself on the railing near the door as nausea threatened to overwhelm her. She turned to lean against it, grateful for the solid barrier holding her up.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked up to find Zach standing over her, his stern face showing concern where moments ago it had only been anger.

Lia put a shaky hand to her forehead. “I’m hormonal, Zach. And you aren’t helping matters.”

He blew out a breath. And then his hand wrapped around her elbow as he pulled her to his side. “Come on.”

He led her away from the door and then in through another door farther down. It led into a dark bar with tables and chairs and only a few patrons. Zach steered her to a table in the corner, far from anyone, and sat her down.

“Wait here.”

She was too tired to argue so she did as he ordered, propping her head against one palm as she fought her queasy stomach.

He returned with a glass and a bottle of San Pellegrino, opening it and pouring it for her. She took a grateful sip, let the cold bubbly water slide down her throat and extinguish the fire in her belly.

Zach sank into the chair across from her. His arms were folded over what she remembered was an impressive chest when it was bare. His stare was not in the least bit friendly as he watched her. She thought of the military medal she’d tucked into her purse and pictured him in a flight suit, standing tall and proud beside a sleek fighter jet.

“Better?” he asked shortly.

She nodded. “Somewhat, yes.”

“Good.” His eyes narrowed. “Why should I believe this baby is mine, Lia?”

Her heart thudded. There was no reason she could actually give him. Because I was a virgin. Because you are the only man I’ve ever been with. “A paternity test should clear it up,” she said coolly, though inside she was anything but cool. “I will submit the first moment it is safe to do so.”

He turned his head and stared off into space. His profile was sharp, handsome. His hair was still cut in that military style, short and cropped close. On him, it was perfect. Not for the first time, she wondered what he’d seen in her. No doubt he was wondering the same thing.

“You seem to have it all thought out,” he said evenly. Coldly.

Lia clutched the glass in her hands. “Not really. All I know is we created a baby together. And our baby deserves to have both parents in his or her life.”

It was the one thought that had sustained her on the long trip from Sicily. The one thing she’d had to cling to when everything else was falling apart.

Zach would want his child. She’d told herself that over and over.

But she didn’t really know if it was true.

What if he was exactly like her father and just didn’t care about the life he’d helped to create? Despair rose up inside her soul. How could this be the same man she’d lain in bed with? That man had been warm, mysterious, considerate. He wouldn’t abandon a helpless baby.

But this man …

She shivered. This one was cold and hard and mean.

He looked at her evenly. Across the room, a few people sat at tables or lounged at the bar. One woman leaned in toward the man across from her and said something that made him laugh. How Lia envied that woman. She was with a man who wanted her, a man who was happy she was there.

“I don’t know what you expect, Lia, but I’m not the father type. Or the husband type.” His voice was low and icy, his emotions so carefully controlled she had no idea if he felt anything at all.

“You don’t have a choice about being a father,” she said, her throat aching.

His dark eyes glittered. And then he smiled. A cruel smile. “There is always a choice. This is the twenty-first century, not the dark ages. You don’t have to have this child. You don’t have to keep this child.”

His words seared into her. Lia shot to her feet and clutched her tiny purse to her like a shield. Her hands were trembling. Her body was trembling.

“I want this baby, Zach. I intend to give my child the best life possible. With or without you,” she added, her throat tightening over the words. Though she didn’t know how she was going to do that. She had nothing. The money she had from her mother wasn’t in her control. She didn’t even know how much there was; her grandfather had always managed it. Now, she supposed, Alessandro was managing it.

She didn’t really know Alessandro, but he was her grandfather’s handpicked successor. And if he was anything like Salvatore had been, then he was not a man you demanded anything from.

When she walked out of here, she had nothing more than she’d walked in with. The bit of cash she’d saved from her allowance and the credit card on her grandmother’s account. She kept hoping her grandmother wouldn’t notice the charges, though she had no idea how much longer that could last. She’d fled while her grandmother was out of town, but Teresa would return any day and find Lia gone.

Then what? The family would shut down her ability to spend a dime other than her cash. Then someone would come for her. Lia shuddered.

Her heart thundered while Zach stared her down. Please, she silently begged. Please don’t reject us. Please don’t send us back there.

His eyes did not change. There was no warmth, no sympathy. No feeling at all. She’d been too hasty with that ultimatum. Too stupid.

“Without me,” he said, his voice low and measured.

She considered him for a long moment, her eyes pricking with tears, her breath whooshing in and out of her chest as she fought to maintain control. He was a bastard. A horrible, rotten bastard.

What had happened to the man who’d been frightened and alone in that ballroom back in Palermo? The man who’d been vulnerable, and who’d dropped his military medal because he must believe, on some level, that he didn’t deserve it?

She’d come here with such hope for the future. She’d come here expecting to find the man who had charmed her and made her feel special.

But this man was not the same man. She despised him in that moment. Despised herself for being so weak and needy that she’d had sex with a stranger—not once, but many times over two days. It was as if she’d wanted to challenge fate, as if she’d been laughing and daring life to knock her in the teeth one more time.

Well, it certainly had, hadn’t it? She’d let herself feel something for a man she didn’t know, let herself believe there was more to it than simple biology. Not love, certainly not, but … something. Some feeling that was somehow more than she should have felt for a man she’d only just met.

She was so naive.

The pain sliced into her heart. “I spoke with Taylor Carmichael after you left Sicily. She thinks you are a good man,” Lia told him. Something flickered in his gaze, yet he said nothing. “But I think she doesn’t really know you the way she thinks she does.”

She turned and headed for the exit, though the door was a blur through her tears. One of the patrons in the bar looked up as she passed. He grinned at her, an eyebrow lifting, but she kept walking, her entire world crumbling apart. She hoped Zach would stop her. Prayed he would.

Prayed that she was wrong and he was just very surprised and not reacting well.

But she reached the door and tugged it open, and still he wasn’t behind her. Lia stepped into the corridor and hurried down it, her heels sinking into the plush carpet. And then she was outside, nodding to the doorman’s query if she would like a taxi. Here, the world moved as it had before. Nothing had changed. Inside her soul, however, everything was different.

She was pregnant. She was alone.

She wished she had someone to talk to—a friend, a sister, anyone who would listen—but that was wishful thinking. She’d never had anyone to talk to.

A taxi glided up the rounded drive and the doorman opened it with a flourish. Lia handed him a few dollars and then slid inside and turned her head away from the elegant building as the taxi drove away. She refused to look back. That part of her life was over.