Claiming His Wife

His slightly hooded eyes swept her, a line of quick colour touching his skin, and Cassie, shell-shocked, knew why when she glanced down and saw how dur­ing her undignified knife-hunt the edges of her bor­rowed robe had come apart, revealing the heavy globes of her breasts, or most of them, the line of her still-flat tummy and the tangle of springy hair at the apex of her thighs.

Swallowing convulsively, she snatched at the edges, wrapping them tightly around her, and he said thickly, moving closer, 'Don't hide your body from me. You are so beautiful you make my heart ache, querida. I have come for you, if you will have me. Will you, my Cassie?'

With tears in her eyes, dazed wonder numbing her mind, her body suddenly shaking, Cassie could only struggle to get control of her vocal cords, tell him yes, and yes again, to be with him was what she had always wanted.

A sound emerged, but thickly, making no sense. Her hands flew to her face as shattering emotions racked her body. She made her feet move somehow towards him, to reply to his question with physical contact, since she seemed incapable of doing it ver­bally—her body against his, her arms around him, her mouth finding his, giving him his answer.

'Stop hounding her, dammit!' Guy's voice was thin and high, ragged with temper. 'Haven't you done enough damage?'

In the doorway his face was red. He was wearing a thin silky robe that did little to disguise the fact that he wore nothing under it.

The silence following his outburst was still and sharp. Cassie didn't know whether to giggle hyster­ically or to burst into tears.

Roman turned cold eyes on his distant cousin, his patrician nostrils pinched with arctic displeasure.

'And don't look at me like that,' Guy blustered. 'This is my home, and I'm telling you we don't want you in it. If you need to contact Cassie, do it through your solicitor.'

Cassie's eyes went wide. Guy's face was purple now. She was afraid he'd have a stroke! 'Guy,' she commanded, as firmly as she could under these sur­real circumstances, 'don't I have a say here?'

'No!' His voice rose a full octave. 'I'm handling this. And I'll tell you something for nothing, Fernandez. I'm looking after Cass, I'm marrying her and taking care of the baby—'

A single fiery Spanish expletive cut him off in full flow. Tormented charcoal eyes flicked briefly in Cassie's direction. And then, with Guy stepping smartly aside, Roman strode through the doorway, disappearing into the dark wet night.

CHAPTER TWELVE

'This is a total dump!' Cindy censured, parking her­self on the only armchair the dingy room boasted. The best that could be said of it was that it had bro­ken springs and stained upholstery. 'Guy was in a right state when he phoned this morning and told me you'd moved out, and where you'd gone. I came as soon as I shut up shop. Where's Roman?' she de­manded. 'And what the hell do you think you're do­ing in this grot-hole? Honestly, sometimes I think you should be locked up for your own safety!'

Glumly, Cassie had to agree with her friend's scathing assessment of the bed-sit she'd just moved into. But it was cheap and, more importantly, she was no longer sharing with Guy.

Last night he'd gone to bed in a chastened mood after she'd told him

he'd ruined everything for her, reminding him that if he'd thought by saying he was planning on marrying her and looking after the baby had been an act of chivalry, he was utterly and hope­lessly wrong.

What he'd said, giving Roman the wrong impres­sion of their relationship, had been totally destructive and completely out of order.

She'd spent the night in anguish, stuffing her few possessions in carrier bags, then pacing the floor as she waited for dawn when she could remove herself; sleep had been out of the question.

Roman had wanted her back, wanted to make their marriage work. Now he believed she'd shacked up with Guy, leapt straight into bed with him and had conceived his child. What other interpretation could he have put on what Guy had said? No wonder he'd walked straight out. He would think she was a slut and would have washed his hands of her!

'So,' Cindy prompted sharply, 'what happened? Roman had come for you; I know that because I gave him Guy's address. Don't tell me you sent him pack­ing?'

Still in shock over what had happened the previous evening, and cursing the weak tears that flooded her eyes, Cassie muttered dully, 'It's a long story.' She really didn't want to talk about it. It was too close, too painful. But she knew she would have to. Cindy wouldn't leave until she did.

Buying herself a few extra moments, she offered tiredly, 'Why don't I make us some coffee?'

There was a sink and a gas ring in one corner, divided from the rest of the room by a shabby brown curtain. She'd shopped for a few basics on her way back from the bookshop but hadn't been motivated enough to unpack them.

Now she hunted through the carrier for the jar of granules, and when the brew was made and she couldn't delay any longer she perched on the edge of the single bed and haltingly told her friend every­thing.

'Hell's teeth!' Cindy exploded, putting her empty mug down on the floor. 'How could my stupid brother have done that? I honestly thought it would be all right—he kept his feelings to himself, was the perfect gentleman, in fact, when you came back that first time.'

She moved her hands expressively, her frown fe­rocious. 'The only time he ever really came clean about what he felt for you, he definitely told me he wouldn't say a word to you, or give you a hint, while you were still legally married to Roman. I really thought it would be the same this time, otherwise—' She shook her head helplessly. 'I'm so sorry, Cass!' 'You're not your brother's keeper,' Cassie said dully. 'It's done now.'

'But not dusted,' Cindy replied decisively. 'When did you find out you were pregnant?'

'Some time towards the end of August, I suppose. Just before everything went wrong.'

'So why didn't you tell Roman then? Surely he'd have been delighted—why keep it a secret?'