The Billionaires' Brides Bundle
“Is that why you came here? To hear me admit that I—that I let you seduce me?”
“That you let me seduce you?” Nicolo folded his arms and gave a hollow laugh. “Such clever phrasing.”
Aimee’s legs were like rubber. She’d never fainted before but she thought she might damned well do it again if she had to keep up a conversation with this arrogant ass who was in a snit because he believed she’d come on to him deliberately.
She could only imagine how he’d react if he knew she carried a baby.
His baby.
A choked laugh caught in her throat. Prince Nico
lo Barbieri’s child. He wouldn’t believe it. Well, who could blame him? She could hardly believe it, either.
She couldn’t be pregnant. She took the pill. She’d been taking it for a couple of years now, not to prevent getting pregnant. Why would she, considering that the last time she’d been intimate with a man before she’d slept with Nicolo Barbieri was her senior year at college?
She took it to regulate her period, but what had happened to its primary function as a contraceptive?
Accidents happen. She could almost hear the tut-tutting voice of her boarding school’s sex-ed teacher. Remember, ladies, accidents happen.
Her legs buckled.
“Dio!” Nicolo grabbed her shoulders as she collapsed on the sofa. “That’s it. You need a doctor.”
“I need you to go away.” Aimee struggled up against the pillows as he took his cell phone from his pocket. “What are you doing?”
“Calling for an ambulance.”
“No! I don’t want an ambulance. Damn you, will you just—”
“Then tell me your physician’s number.”
Her physician’s number. The man who’d made her pregnant wanted to call the doctor who’d just told her about that pregnancy. Wild laughter rose in her throat.
“You find this amusing?”
“No. Not amusing. Just—just…”
Aimee shook her head. The only thing she wanted was to bury her face in her hands and weep. That meant getting Nicolo Barbieri out of her apartment and out of her life.
Time to ditch her stupid pride.
“You came here to hear me admit that—that what happened between us was as much my idea as yours.” She paused, touched the tip of her tongue to her dry lips. “All right. I admit it. I’m equally responsible for what happened.” She shuddered and drew the lapels of her robe together. “I behaved irresponsibly. But not like—like what you called me. There was no plan. No orchestration. There was just—there was just you, and me, and some kind of insanity….”
Her voice faded away but she had said enough. Nicolo had what he’d come for: her admission that she’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her.
The rest didn’t matter. He knew that now.
He no longer gave a damn whose idea the meeting had been, hers or the old man. What mattered was that once he’d kissed her, once he’d touched her, she had belonged to him.
“Please. Go away now. I—I’m tired. I want to lie down.”
His brow furrowed. She was more than tired. She looked…What? Ill? Frightened?
Terrified.
Of him? That was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? That she be afraid of him? And yet—and yet, suddenly, he wanted something more. Something just out of reach….
“Aimee.” Nicolo squatted beside her and took her hands in his. Her fingers were ice-cold. “Cara. You need a doctor.”