Consequences of a Hot Havana Night

‘Realised what?’

She hesitated, and his anger flared hotter.

‘I’m not about to start playing guessing games, Kitty.’

‘I didn’t—’ She licked her lips. ‘I think I might be pregnant.’

Whatever he’d been expecting her to say, it hadn’t been that. He stared at her in silence, brain reeling, body rigid with shock. ‘How do you—?’

‘How do I know?’ She bit her lip. ‘I don’t—for sure. But I’m five weeks late.’

He did the maths inside his head. It worked. Only...

‘I thought you said you couldn’t have children?’

The accusatory tone and the implied doubt in his words seemed magnified in the small room. He watched her face close over.

‘I didn’t think I could.’ She looked up at him, her eyes too bright, and he could almost see her retreating. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.’

His stomach twisted. She looked drained, and young, too young to be dealing with this alone in a foreign country, away from her family. Having wrongly accused her of lying, he could hardly condemn her for honesty.

‘No, I’m glad you told me.’

And, despite his shock, he was surprised to find that he actually was. The truth was always preferable to being fed lies. But this was too big a truth to tackle now. Out of habit, he schooled his features into a mask of calm, the CEO in him taking charge.

‘Look, it’s late. We can’t do anything more tonight and you look exhausted.’ He glanced across the room. ‘You need to go to bed.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can sleep.’

‘Then just lie down for a minute.’

Gently, he guided her towards the sofa. He watched her sit down. She seemed hardly aware of him, and he realised that she was as exhausted as she looked.

‘Come on.’ He grabbed a cushion. ‘Put your head on this and just close your eyes.’

She slid off her shoes and lay down, curling onto her side, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

‘We’ll talk about this in the—’ he began, but she was already asleep, her hair spreading out like a fan of flames over her shoulders. Shrugging his jacket from his shoulders, he draped it carefully over her body.

Dropping down onto one of the chairs, he shifted against the cushions, trying to get comfortable. He thought back to how this evening had started. Seeing Kitty through the car window, following her into the bar, dancing with her...and then that kiss.

It had been the most tantalising foreplay in what he’d hoped would be a night as passionate as that first time. What he hadn’t expected was to find out that he might be a father.

His chest tightened. Mixing a night of incredible sex with a complete loss of control had been a cocktail to rival any daiquiri, only now it appeared that there might be life-changing consequences to that explosive encounter on her sofa.

He felt shattered, his head spinning with a dizzying rush of unanswered questions, but the answers would have to wait until morning.

Tilting his head back, he took one last look at the woman who was going to give him those answers and then closed his eyes.

CHAPTER SIX

SOMEWHERE, SOMEONE WAS singing about her heart being broken.

Shifting onto her side, Kitty lay with her eyes closed, still half asleep, but following the words. It was a song that was playing everywhere in Havana—only why was it playing inside her villa?

Slowly she opened her eyes and sat up.

There was no sign of César but, glancing down, she realised she hadn’t been sleeping under a blanket but his jacket, and the chair opposite the sofa had been moved. Her heart gave a leap as she noticed the indentation in the cushion.