Virgin Mistress, Scandalous Love-Child

She felt sick. How could she have missed so much of his true character? How could she have glossed over the way he'd been so obsessed with winning her? How could she have ever thought that he actually loved her?

“But Serrador ruined everything.” Timothy narrowed his eyes at her belly in a way that made her fold her hands over her stomach protectively. “You'd be pregnant with my child now if not for him. I would've had you in my bed every night. Wanting me. Only me.”

“No, Timothy,” she said softly. She shook her head. “I made a mistake. I never should have agreed to marry you. This feeling you have for me isn't love. You don't even know me.”

His thin lips turned up into a snarl.

“Perhaps you're right,” he said crudely. “The girl I adored was innocent and pure. She never would have spread her legs for a Brazilian playboy like a sailor's whore.”

She gasped.

Timothy shook his head and leapt up from the bed to take her arm. “I'm sorry!” he cried. “I know it was all his fault. He raped you. That's the only explanation. But do you see how love can make you do crazy things? Seeing you pregnant is driving me insane. But not for long….”

“What do you mean?” she whispered.

He gave her a cheerful smile. “I have a local doctor on the payroll. In about an hour, he's going to help deliver your babies, and then you'll be free to come with me.”

Free? The word terrified her. Another hard contraction went through her, making her knees weak. She grasped the hard metal bedframe for balance. “The babies…aren't due for two weeks,” she gasped.

“It's close enough. The little brats will be fine. They'll be going to their new parents in Manhattan, who have paid me a hefty sum for newborn twins with no questions asked. I'm a rich man now, Ellie. Not as rich as Serrador, but I can buy you everything you could want. You'll never have to work again. Your only job will be to love me all day long….”

Her belly tensed, and she nearly fell. She had to get out of here. If she gave birth to her twins now, they would be taken from her. She and Diogo would never see them again.

She had to be strong. Strong for her children. Strong for the man she loved!

“If you take the babies, Diogo will kill you.” She sat down on the bed as her legs threatened to give way beneath her.

“He won't even find me,” Timothy said scornfully. “As soon as we leave here, we'll disappear forever.”

She couldn't let that happen. She had to distract him. Her heart pounding, she unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt, giving him a better look at her full cleavage. “Ooh, it's hot in here,” she said, fanning herself. “Why not just let Diogo have the babies, Timothy? Then you and I can leave together.”

She could see the beads of sweat on Timothy's pale, thin forehead as he came closer, staring at her chest.

“But I want Serrador to suffer,” he whispered. “And those babies are my getaway money. I want that four million dollars. The private plane will take us to West Africa, to a place where he'll never find us.”

She tried to hide her fear.

“What's the hurry to leave?” she said, leaning back against the bed. “Why not stay and enjoy ourselves right here?”

“Yes…” With a shudder, he buried his head in her hair, smelling it deeply. She felt him tentatively reach out to touch her breasts. It made her ill, but she forced herself to remain still.

Diogo, she thought desperately, where are you? He was so powerful, so smart. Somehow he would find them. She just had to give him time. Had to…

Timothy slowly squeezed one full breast, then the other. “Yes,” he breathed. “It's so good. Just as I always thought it would be…”

But revulsion overcame Ellie. As he tried to kiss her, she couldn't stop herself from struggling. As he leaned over her, she kicked him in the face.

He fell back for a moment, dazed. But as she tried to scramble up for the door, he grabbed her hair. With a growl, he threw her back against the bed.

“So that's how it's going to be, eh?” She saw him pick up a small, wickedly gleaming knife from a tray. “Fine. Have it your way—”

She gave a desperate scream as he held the knife above her in a flash of cold steel—

A dark shadow swept upon him like an angel of death. Six feet, four inches of hard muscle threw Timothy back, tossing him to the ground.

Diogo towered over him, his expression contorted with vengeful fury.

“Serrador,” he whimpered, quivering on the floor. “How?”

Diogo didn't answer. But beneath his mask of rage, Ellie saw the fear. He'd been so afraid of losing her.