His fingers bit into the flesh of her arm and a surge of anger coloured Kelly’s cheeks, but she forced herself to remain calm; this was their unborn child they were discussing and anger would get them nowhere. ‘It’s true; get used to it,’ she snapped, and watched as he closed his eyes for a moment. Perhaps now it was a fait accompli he might like the idea. But any hopes in that direction were squashed once and for all when he opened his eyes.
His face hardened into an impenetrable mask. ‘Has the pregnancy been confirmed by a doctor?’ he demanded, and his cold, clipped voice chilled her to the bone.
‘Dr Credo. Two days ago.’
‘Is it mine?’
A harsh, humourless laugh escaped her. That was the one question she had not expected, but she should have done, given he thought she had slept with Tom and was too dodgy to touch without a condom. ‘Oh, yes. I am nine weeks pregnant—work it out for yourself. History repeating itself,’ she drawled with bitter sarcasm. ‘The tumble on the floor in Cornwall.’
His black eyes narrowed to mere slits in the harshness of his face. ‘You were on the Pill.’
‘No. You said I was on the Pill, because you told me to take it three years ago and Dr Credo told you I had done so,’ Kelly said sweetly, but inside she was raging. Her husband, Count Gianfranco Maldini, was a very wealthy, very powerful man, one of an almost extinct breed of dinosaurs that believed once they had demanded a course of action it would be pursued ad infinitum. The conceit was colossal.
Gianfranco’s dark eyes grazed over her slender but voluptuous body, and fear such as he had never imagined possible was staring him in the face. He frowned down at her. ‘No matter, Kelly. Much as it goes against my belief, in this case it is not too late. A termination is in order.’
She shivered, closing her eyes against the pain. He had it all cut and dried.
‘I will have a word with Dr Credo.’ He was still talking, and Kelly saw red.
Her fingers curled into fists and her free hand swung though the air. She punched him straight on the nose. ‘Take that, you no-good scum of the earth,’ she yelled; it had hurt her hand but it was worth it, as Gianfranco reeled back, letting go of her arm in the process.
‘I have had enough of you to last me a bloody lifetime.’
They hadn’t spent as much as a year together as man and wife, and in that time Kelly had suffered every emotion known to man and then some, all because of Gianfranco. But his latest betrayal was the worst, the absolute pits. She glared at him with wild eyes; he had straightened up and was holding his nose, blood seeping through his elegant fingers. Serves the bastard right, she thought furiously. And all the hurt, the anger she had kept in check for so long, came spewing out.
‘All you ever wanted from me was sex, from the first time we met. I was never good enough to be your wife or the mother of your child. You would never have married me, except you found out I was pregnant and your precious flaming Olivia wanted a baby. The pair of you decided to have mine. Olivia told me herself: the civil marriage in England meant nothing, but was just a means to get my baby. You could still marry her in church.’
She didn’t hear Gianfranco’s horrified, ‘Dio, no.’ Her fury, unleashed, flowed like vitriol over his proud head.r />
‘I saw you both in the study when I came back from the doctor’s, wrapped in each other’s arms. And you—you…’ she shrieked. ‘Telling her that we would certainly not have any more children. Caressing her while she said she loved my baby and would take care of her.’
Kelly didn’t notice Gianfranco’s sudden stiffening, his dark eyes fixed intently on her furious red face as he listened to her wild outburst while she was too bound up in her own emotional blood-letting…
‘Well, I am glad I foiled the pair of you, and I am glad Olivia left you. My only regret is that you found me again. You don’t deserve a daughter like Annalou. And to think I actually thought I loved you.’ Kelly shook her head, her blonde hair falling from its precarious chignon to tumble around her shoulders. ‘Even today I tried to convince myself—perhaps I had not understood the Italian language so well, maybe you had not said what I thought. More fool me!’ Tears blinded her eyes. ‘You soon put me right; I must have been mad.’
Kelly had never felt such complete and utter desolation in her life. But she squared her shoulders, steely determination in every line of her slender body. Her moist blue eyes glistened in her drawn face as she looked up at Gianfranco. ‘Murder my baby, would you?’ she grated in a raw voice. ‘Over my dead body.’
His head jerked back as though she had punched him again, and every vestige of colour fled his hard face, leaving him looking grey and haggard, and his sensuous mouth was a taut, cruel line as he said through his clenched teeth one word, ‘Exactly.’
To have him admit everything she had feared was true with one word was like a knife skewering her heart. All the blood drained from her face and she drew a deep, unsteady breath, her blue eyes curiously blank. ‘The truth at last.’ Unconsciously rubbing her sore knuckles, she added in a voice devoid of all emotion, ‘I will see you in hell before I let you near me again.’ His large hand reached out to her and she batted it away. ‘Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare touch me.’
His strong features were torn by some intolerable emotion. ‘No, Kelly, no, you’ve got it wrong.’ And before she could move he hauled her hard against his long body, his dark gaze moving over her anguished face. ‘I know about your mother.’
Through the mist of her despair she looked into his eyes, and the anguish she saw there more than matched her own. ‘My mother—you know she and Tom were lovers?’ Why on earth was he harking back to what was ancient history?
‘No, I didn’t know that,’ he said in a toneless voice. ‘But I do know she died in childbirth, and the same could happen to you. When I said exactly, I was responding quite literally to your comment “over my dead body”. Don’t you see?’
She stared at him in complete confusion, then slowly, through the utter despair enfolding her, Kelly felt the first glimmer of something like hope. The pain, the passion as his dark gaze swept over her, was plain to see. He was worried about her, and she was so astonished she made no demur when he lowered her down onto the sofa and sat beside her.
‘If I have to choose between you and another child…’ He didn’t look at her as he began to speak, his head bent, his hands clasped between his spread knees, the knuckles white with strain. ‘I don’t care if I condemn my immortal soul to hell. It has to be you. I can’t bear to lose you again.’
Stunned blue eyes widening as the import of his words sank in, Kelly turned towards him and placed a hand on his arm. ‘You’re frightened?’ she whispered.
He nodded and, sitting up, his head lifting to look at her, he gave her a somber, almost angry glance. ‘Terrified,’ he admitted, and Kelly instinctively knew his anger was not directed against her, but himself.
He agitatedly ran his fingers through his hair before continuing. ‘The day I saw you in the hospital bed after giving birth to Annalou Dr Credo told me you had haemorrhaged, and then he told me your mother died in childbirth, but you didn’t like to talk about it. But…’
He hesitated for so long Kelly thought he couldn’t finish. ‘So?’ she prompted.