He doubted there would ever come a time he would be able to bump into Cara at a party, sidle over to her, maybe give her bottom a cheeky pinch, and then catch up on old times.
The animosity would always be there.
In any case, if her baby did prove to be his, then he had to concede she would be a huge part of his life...well, for the rest of his life. If the baby was his then they would be for ever united, even in the most cerebral fashion.
An image of a tiny baby with a shock of Cara’s flame-red hair came into his head, an image he blinked away along with the nagging voice that kept piping up, asking him if he really wanted nothing more than to be a part-time father.
He clenched his hands into fists.
He didn’t want to think that far ahead.
He didn’t want to imagine how he would feel if Cara really was carrying his child.
Once, a long time ago, he’d been caught up in the magic of pregnancy, the unmitigated joy and wonder of knowing he had shared in the creation of life and that soon he would be a father. The child had been no more than a foetus but already he had loved it, had thought of the future that child would have with him and Luisa, and the family they would create together.
His child would never have felt second best.
His child never got the chance to feel anything, least of all second best.
Luisa had ripped that chance away from him.
Cara was nothing like Luisa.
Cara was like no one he’d ever met.
But what did he know of her really? He’d known Luisa pretty much all of his life but he’d never guessed she was capable of ripping his heart out and stamping on the remnants.
He would never trust another woman. He couldn’t. There was only so much pain one man could take and he’d reached that limit before he’d even finished his teenage years.
Only when Cara’s baby was born and the paternity test established that he truly was the father would he allow himself to think properly of the future.
Only then would he allow himself to think of what it truly meant to have a child.
Until that time came, his life would continue as it was. Except with a houseguest. A fiery, sexy houseguest.
Suppressing a yawn, he checked his watch. It was time to call it a day. There was a party he had to attend, a party he’d been looking forward to until approximately five days ago, being hosted by a good friend who was celebrating his first wedding anniversary. Not feeling in the mood to drive, he got his driver to take him home, all the while trying to shake himself out of the melancholic mood that had crept under his skin.
By the time he arrived back at his home he felt no better, but, with practised ease, slipped his old faithful smile on and strolled into the house.
‘Where is Cara?’ he asked Monique, who had hurried out to greet him.
‘In her room.’
‘Has she left it today?’
‘Only for her lunch and a late afternoon snack.’
‘Did she eat any breakfast?’
‘A croissant and an apple.’
He headed to his room, refusing to reflect on his need to monitor Cara’s eating habits. It was simple concern extended towards a pregnant woman, nothing more.
As he passed, Cara’s bedroom door opened. Her eyes widened to see him and she took a step back, would no doubt have shut the door in his face if he hadn’t stuck a foot in the doorway to prevent her.
‘Good evening, cucciola mia. How has your day been?’
‘Long and boring.’
‘Then it must be a source of comfort to know we are going out tonight.’
She pulled a face but opened the door properly and leaned against the door frame, hugging her arms around her chest. ‘It’s getting late. Do I have to go?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can’t I stay here with Monique?’
‘Monique goes home at weekends—aren’t you lucky? You can have me all to yourself.’
Her cheeks coloured and she scowled. ‘How thrilling. Can’t you get another babysitter for me?’
‘It’s too short notice. Besides, I don’t think I could afford to pay anyone else to put up with you.’
‘I’m no bother. I just stay in my room. It’s like babysitting a five-year-old.’
Anyone listening in on them would be amused at the dryness of their conversation. If they were to scratch a little under the surface it would be a whole different story. The second her door had opened, Pepe’s heart had begun to thunder, the weight in his gut twisting and clenching. The half-smile on his face could have been drawn on.
As for Cara...her beautiful lips were pulled in and tight, while her green eyes spat fire at him.
He wanted to touch her. He wanted to pick her up and carry her across the room, lay her on the bed and make love to every inch of her.