Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding

His thumb moved from his chin to his mouth in a slow, rhythmical movement as he caressed its cushioned outline reflectively. Cassie had seen him do this when she’d been living with him—usually when he was deep in thought and tussling over some business wrangle. But this wasn’t about business, was it?

She stared at the narrowed eyes and the resolute light which gleamed from them. Maybe it was. ‘And how do you propose we go about that, Giancarlo?’

His black eyes were brilliant as they met hers. ‘We will marry immediately,’ he said softly. ‘But we will keep news of your pregnancy secret.’

‘Why?’

‘Because your mother is more likely to give her blessing if she feels that love is involved.’

‘Oh, how…cynical,’ she breathed.

‘Or realistic?’ he parried. ‘People’s lives and futures don’t necessarily fit the story-book version, cara—and the world is less likely to be damning of the union   if it is not sold as a forced marriage.’

Cassie felt sick. Not sold, he had said—as if he were in the middle of some wretched marketing exercise! And weren’t his concerns more about his own pride and ego? Not wanting it to look as if he had been forced into marriage but had chosen it of his own free will. ‘You’re not exactly selling it to me,’ she said in a low voice.

At this he stilled—and moved the thumb which had remained thoughtfully on his lips to rest on hers, and that contact made him start and take notice. How cold they felt in contrast to the warmth of his own flesh, he thought fleetingly. And wasn’t he going about this in the wrong way? Wouldn’t it suit his purpose to have her purring with pleasure—to use his considerable influence and sexual power over her to make her more accessible to his wishes?

‘Aren’t I?’ he said softly, leaning towards her, his breath warming the icy tremble of her lips. ‘How very remiss of me, bella. I wonder how best I can go about that? Mmm? Any ideas?’

His face was close. Too close. Close enough for its hard contours and aristocratic lines to mock her for what could never be. To make her long for the impossible. Cassie closed her eyes, knowing that he was going to kiss her—and, if she was being honest, she supposed that she wanted him to kiss her. To seal a deal which he had never wanted to make. But also because she had missed his kisses and all the closeness and intimacy which went with them.

He had tutored her in the sweet pleasures of the flesh and hadn’t her newly awakened body ached for him? But at least by blotting out the sight of his mocking face she might be able to protect her emotions from the grim recognition that this was simply a business arrangement.

His mouth grazed over hers—and despite all the misgivings which stabbed at her heart it ignited instant fire in the pit of her belly. Back and forth his lips touched in light provocation, until the desire to put her arms around him overrode all other considerations like pride and self-respect. Biting back a small cry of something which felt like relief, Cassie clung to his shoulders as if she had found dry land after being lost at sea—and for a moment she felt safe as she let the kiss deepen and felt his tongue move inside her mouth.

He pulled her close, cushioning her silken hair in the palms of his hands and, after a while, he drew away from her, trying to steady the sudden shudder of his breathing.

‘That is better. Much better. Now listen to me, Cassandra—for this is important. You will go home—and you will tell your mother that you are going to marry the man you met in London.’

Cassie swallowed. ‘And if she asks me why?’

‘You will tell her that you love me.’

‘But I—’

‘You don’t love me?’ he interjected mockingly. ‘You know that and I know that—but that can be our little secret, Cassandra.’

‘Another one?’ she interjected bitterly. ‘How many secrets will we have between us?’

He shrugged, still stroking her hair. ‘In life, as in business—it is always wise to hold something back.’

‘But this is different!’

‘No, it is not different. The principle is exactly the same. Let’s not overload your family and friends with too many surprises all at once.’ His dark eyes glittered. ‘And why don’t we look at facts instead of fantasy? Love has never guaranteed matrimonial success—statistics show that arranged marriages fare much better.’

‘N-not in the kind of world I’ve grown up in,’ she answered shakily. ‘And anyway, people are bound to be suspicious.

His mouth hardened. ‘Then distract them by telling them that I am letting you choose a wedding venue anywhere in the world. Give them something else to think about other than the speed with which the ceremony is taking place.’