“Perhaps you’ll make an exception,” he said calmly, “considering that your nose is running.”
She flushed, grabbed the towels, put them to her nose and gave a long, noisy blow.
“Much better.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want to offend Your Highness’s delicate sensibilities.”
Her voice was shaky but he could see her self-control returning. He had the feeling she was going to need it.
“I know you’re being sarcastic, cara, but—”
“Such perception!”
“—but, sarcasm aside, it’s inappropriate to address me by my title.”
Aimee burst out laughing. “Now you’re going to give me lessons in court etiquette? God almighty, what a horrible human being you—”
“I do not believe in such formality,” he said, cursing himself for a fool because he knew damned well a man couldn’t sound more formal than he did right now. He paused, took a breath and got on with it. “Particularly from the woman who is about to become my wife.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MARRY HIM?
Marry Nicolo Barbieri.
The man who had seduced her. And he had, no matter what he claimed. He’d started it all. Followed her into that bathroom. Locked the door. Lifted her onto the marble vanity. Torn aside her panties.
Thrust deep into her…and even now, despite everything, just thinking of what it had been like made her body quicken.
What was the matter with her, that she should still feel desire for him? She couldn’t blame him for making her pregnant—she hadn’t been thinking any more clearly than he that night—but there was no escaping that he’d made love to her….
And then called her a slut because he believed she’d been part of some ugly scheme of her grandfather’s.
Why wouldn’t he think that? Nicolo was every bit as ruthless and driven as the coldhearted old man who’d raised her.
James was willing to sell her for the good of his kingdom. Nicolo was willing to buy her for the same reason. He’d probably been willing to do it from the instant her grandfather suggested it.
All that indignation this morning, the fiery show of contempt for her and her grandfather, had been a lie to placate his own ego. He’d needed to justify a devil’s bargain and she and her answering machine had handed it to him, all prettily gift-wrapped and tied with a great big bow.
She was pregnant with his baby. What better way to agree to marrying her than by making it seem a gallant gesture?
Except, she knew the truth.
The Prince of All He Surveyed was about as gallant as a fifteen-century monarch weighing the benefits of a royal marriage—except for one enormous difference.
No matter what he thought, she wasn’t governed by the rules of James Black’s kingdom. She was not a princess. She didn’t have to marry a tyrant she didn’t know, didn’t love, didn’t even like.
“Well, cara? Has my proposal swept you off your feet, or shall I take your silence as wholehearted agreement?”
Aimee looked up. Nicolo’s words were sarcastic but his eyes were cool and watchful. He had to know she wasn’t going to agree—or maybe he didn’t. He was just arrogant enough, imperious enough, to assume his proposal—and wasn’t that an amazing thing to call it—was everything a woman in her situation could want.
She almost laughed. He was in for one hell of a surprise!
Learning she was pregnant, having to make all the tough choices that came next without anyone to help her, was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened.
Only one thing could possibly be more frightening: marriage to a man like the Evil Prince.
Aimee tossed her head, as if none of this was worth discussion.