The Italian Billionaire's Pregnant Bride

‘I’ll order food.’ Sergio used the phone by the bed and began getting dressed.

Kathy refused to look at him. ‘I just want to go home.’

‘As soon as you’ve eaten something and you’re feeling better.’ Lean, dark face sombre, Sergio spoke with scrupulous politeness.

Gripped by an overwhelming weariness that was as unfamiliar to her as the dizziness, Kathy swallowed hard and said nothing. She knew that there was no way she was going to feel better in the near future. He had destroyed her peace of mind and devastated her pride. What if her worst fear came true and she was pregnant? Pregnant by a guy whom she hated like poison?

CHAPTER FIVE

THE next morning, Kathy woke up feeling sick again.

Although she was afraid of using the pregnancy test she had bought too soon and wasting it, her nerves would no longer stand the prospect of a longer wait. It shook her that it took so little time to perform a test that was of earth-shattering importance to her life. A few minutes later and she had the result that she had dreaded: she was going to have a baby. Her tummy flipped with panic and nausea and she had to make a dash for the bathroom. In the aftermath, even a morsel of toast was more than her tender digestive system could contemplate.

Had she but known it, Sergio was not having a very satisfactory start to his day, either. He had only just arrived at the Torrente building when his senior executive PA, Paola, and his security chief, Renzo Catallone, requested an urgent meeting with him.

Paola laid the watch that Sergio had never expected to see again down on his desk. ‘I’m really sorry, sir. I’m very upset about this. I came into the office very early on the morning I went on holiday because I wanted to check that I’d taken care of everything before I left. I saw your watch lying on the floor of your office and I locked it in a drawer in my desk for safe keeping—’

‘You found my watch?’ Sergio interrupted with incredulity. ‘And said nothing?’

‘I was in a hurry to leave. There was nobody else around. I did email another staff member to say where your watch was, but evidently the message was overlooked,’ the troubled brunette explained unhappily. ‘When I came back to work this morning, someone mentioned that your watch had gone missing and that everyone thought it had been stolen. It was only then that I realised that nobody knew what I’d done.’

That morning, Kathy could not help noticing every pregnant woman in her vicinity and she was amazed by how many of them there seemed to be. Even though the reality of her predicament had yet to sink in she could feel panic waiting to pounce on her. Other women managed to cope with unplanned pregnancies and so would she, she told herself doggedly. She had to consider all the options open to her and stay calm. But if she chose to be a single parent she would not be able to manage without financial help—his financial help. That lowering prospect made Kathy stiffen with distaste. She could not forget Sergio Torrente’s crack about how having his child would be a ‘lucrative lifestyle choice.’

‘Call for you,’ Kathy was told by her colleague on Reception.

‘Why are you not answering your mobile?’ Sergio enquired, his rich dark drawl thrumming down the line and paralysing her to the spot.

‘I’m not allowed to take personal calls. I’m sorry I can’t talk to you,’ Kathy told him flatly and cut the connection, furious that he had dared to phone her. Was there no limit to his arrogance? Was he incapable of appreciating that she wanted nothing to do with him? The night before he had left her in peace to get dressed and eat the meal that was brought to her. She had travelled home in a limo and cried herself to sleep. Of course, she would have to speak to him sooner or later, she acknowledged reluctantly. But just then later had much more appeal to her than sooner.

Mid-morning a spectacular designer flower arrangement was delivered to her. Kathy opened a card signed only with Sergio’s initials. Why was he phoning her and sending her flowers? Uncomfortably aware of the amount of attention the extravagant vase of exotic tiger lilies and grasses was generating, she tried to hand it back to the delivery man. ‘I’m sorry but I don’t want this—’

‘That’s not my problem,’ he told her and off he went.

An hour later, another phone call came from Sergio, but she refused to take it. At noon, her supervisor approached her and took her aside to speak to her in a low voice. ‘You can take extra time for your lunch break today. In fact, I’ve been told to tell you that it’ll be fine if you want to take the rest of the afternoon off.’

Kathy studied her in bewilderment. ‘But why?’

‘The boss received a special request from the CEO. I believe Mr Torrente’s driver is waiting outside for you.’

Kathy flushed to the roots of her hairline. She wanted to sink through the floor. But as she parted her lips to protest that she did not wish to see Sergio and had no wish whatsoever to be singled out for special treatment the other woman went into retreat, her uneasiness palpable. Sergio had the subtlety of a ram-raider, Kathy thought in outraged embarrassment as she squirmed beneath the covert glances and low-pitched buzz of comment that accompanied her departure from the agency. What Sergio wanted he had to have and he refused to wait.

Fizzing with fierce resentment, Kathy climbed into the waiting Mercedes. Should she tell him that she was pregnant? Or did she need to deal with her own feelings before she made an announcement? Fifteen minutes later, she was set down in front of an exclusive hotel. A doorman ushered her into the opulent interior. One of Sergio’s bodyguards greeted her in the foyer and escorted her into the lift. She was shown into a palatial reception room.

Sergio strolled through the balcony doors that stood ajar and came to a fluid halt. As an entrance it was unrivalled in the performance stakes, for he was a dazzlingly good-looking guy. Her heart jumped and her breath shortened in her throat. No matter how she felt about Sergio, or how often she saw him, his physical impact did not lessen. Her response was involuntary. She looked at him and she knew she would look again and again and again. It was as if some wanton, rebellious sixth sense of hers had already forged a permanent connection with him.

‘What do I say?’ His dark drawl as rich and smooth as vintage wine, Sergio spread graceful lean brown hands. ‘I am rarely at a loss, but I don’t know what to say to you—’

‘Well, believe me, I’m not stuck for words!’ Kathy broke in to tell him roundly. ‘How dare you put me in a position where I had no choice but to come here and see you? I liked my job. But what you did today—going to the boss to demand that I get out of work—was the equivalent of career suicide!’

‘I needed to see you and I made a polite request. Don’t exaggerate.’

‘I’m not exaggerating.’ Her apple-green eyes were bright with indignation. ‘I didn’t know that you owned the advertising agency, as well as the recruitment company. A request from the CEO is the same as a demand. Now you’ve made it obvious that we have some kind of personal connection, I’ll be the equivalent of a plague-carrier at work! After this, nobody’s going to take me seriously and my colleagues will be counting the days until my temporary contract ends.’

Sergio expelled his breath on a measured hiss. ‘If there is a problem, I’ll secure employment for you elsewhere.’

Her slim white hands knotted into fists of frustration. ‘Nothing is that simple. Is that really all you have to say?’

‘No. I had to see you today to apologise.’ His astute dark eyes were level and unflinching. ‘My watch was not stolen, it was misplaced. Please accept my sincere regrets for accusing you of something which you did not do.’