Castellano's Mistress of Revenge

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘Are you all right?’ Marc asked, steadying her with a hand on each of her forearms.

  Ava swallowed back a mouthful of sickness. ‘I…I think I’ve had too much sun…or something…’

  Marc swept her up in his arms and carried her towards the staircase, ignoring her paltry pleas to put her down. ‘No, I will not put you down,’ he said. ‘You can barely stand up as it is. I am going to call a doctor. You have obviously had a relapse of that stomach virus. You must have caught another bout of it from Celeste.’

  Ava was suddenly too weak to fight him. Besides, there was something rather comforting about him taking charge. She felt the protective strength of his arms around her and wished she could stay like that forever.

  Once he got to the bedroom he laid her down on his bed, and with gentle fingers smoothed her sticky hair off her face. ‘Who is your regular physician?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine in a minute,’ Ava said weakly. ‘I just need to rest.’

  He gave her an intractable look and picked up the handset from the bedside table, and in rapid-fire French had a medical service agreeing to a house call within the half hour. ‘Now,’ he said, replacing the phone in its cradle, ‘I am going to get you a drink of water and something to eat.’

  Ava felt her stomach heave. ‘No food…please…no food…’

  He looked down at her with a heavy frown. ‘If you were feeling so unwell, why didn’t you say so when I first came home?’ he asked.

  Ava plucked at the hem of the sheet he had covered her with. ‘I was feeling all right then…’

  He let out a deep breath as he sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up her hand and brought it up to his mouth, holding it against his lips while his eyes held hers. Ava wondered what he was thinking. He was studying her so intently; it made her feel on edge, as if any moment he was going to drop a bomb-shell on her.

  The doorbell sounded and Marc released her hand. ‘Stay put,’ he commanded. ‘I will bring the doctor up.’

  Ava lay back on the pillows with a sigh. Her hand felt cold without the warm cradle of his, her heart empty without the promise of his love. Tears smarted at the backs of her eyes, but she fought them back, angry at herself for being so needy. Why couldn’t she just let things take their natural course? He would no doubt tire of her within a month or two. She could move on with her life, maybe one day meet someone else. She choked back a sob, suddenly overcome with emotion. She didn’t want anyone else. She had only ever wanted Marc. She blew her nose hurriedly as she heard footsteps approaching, and stuffed the tissue under the pillow as the door opened.

  The doctor was in his mid-fifties and, after brief introductions, quickly and efficiently took a history. Ava felt self-conscious with Marc standing there listening to every word, but she answered the doctor’s questions as best she could.

  ‘What about your periods?’ the doctor asked. ‘Have you missed any lately?’

  ‘Um…I’m on the sort of Pill that stops menstruation altogether…’

  The doctor looked at her over the rim of his glasses, which were perched on the middle of his nose. ‘Have you been taking it regularly?’

  ‘Y-yes.’

  The doctor tapped his pen against his lips in a thoughtful muse. ‘Have you been ill recently? A stomach upset, vomiting or the like?’

  Ava swallowed tightly. ‘Yes…’

  ‘Have you had unprotected sex recently?’

  She felt her face heating and lowered her gaze back to the hem of the sheet, but before she could answer Marc had answered for her. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘just the once, about two weeks ago.’

  The doctor pulled out a tourniquet and blood sample kit. ‘I’ll do a blood test to make sure,’ he said. ‘The results will be back in a couple of days.’

  Marc spoke again. ‘I would like to know the results as soon as possible.’

  The doctor gave him an as-you-wish movement of his lips. ‘I will mark it as a priority,’ he said.

  Marc saw the doctor out and while he was out of the room Ava got off the bed and went to the bathroom. She washed her face, pausing for a moment to examine her reflection. She was hollow-eyed and pale, but surely it was just the result of long weeks of nursing a terminally ill patient on top of a persistent virus. She dared not think of an alternative explanation, but even so one of her hands crept down to the flat plane of her belly and lingered there…

  ‘Ava?’

  She turned as the door opened. ‘Do you mind?’ she asked. ‘Am I not allowed any privacy?’

  ‘We need to talk.’

  She pushed past him irritably. ‘Too bad. I don’t feel like talking.’

  Marc took her by the arm and turned her to face him. ‘Ava, this is a situation we have to face like two adults.’

  Ava tugged herself out of his light grasp, pointedly rubbing at her arm as if he had hurt her. ‘This is your fault,’ she said, struggling against tears.

  ‘I know it is,’ he said in a low deep, tone.

  She looked up at him in surprise.

  He sent one of his hands through his hair, the only hint he was feeling out of his depth. ‘I want you to know that if you are pregnant I will support you. You don’t need to worry about the baby’s future. I will make sure you and he or she are always well provided for.’

  Ava ran her tongue over her dry lips. ‘It’s probably a false alarm…’

  His dark eyes locked on hers. ‘But what if it’s not?’

  She snagged her bottom lip with her teeth, her forehead crinkling in a frown of worry. ‘If it’s not, I don’t know how on earth I am going to tell Serena.’

  Marc studied her expression for a moment. ‘You don’t think she would be happy for you?’ he asked.

  She looked at him with her misty grey-blue gaze. ‘It’s seems so unfair,’ she said in a whisper-soft voice. ‘She’s been trying to get pregnant for four years. How can I tell her I got pregnant by accident?’

  Marc came over and placed his hands on her shoulders. He hated it when she flinched at his touch, but he knew he had only himself to blame. He had held her to ransom from day one. If she hadn’t hated him before she surely did now. For a fleeting moment he had wondered if she had engineered this situation to her advantage, but one look at her tortured features made him realise he had once again misjudged her. She didn’t want a permanent tie to him. She had told him outright. She was happy to take his money, but that was all she wanted from him.

  Marc forced his thoughts back to the problem at hand. ‘We don’t know for sure if you are pregnant,’ he said. ‘But I am sure your sister will be happy for you in spite of her problems.’

  She slipped out of his hold and crossed her arms over her chest, making him feel as if she was shutting him out. ‘I can’t believe this has happened…’ She started to pace the floor. ‘It’s like a nightmare. I keep thinking someone is going to tap me on the shoulder and wake me up.’

  ‘Ava, please stop pacing for a moment,’ Marc said. ‘You should be resting.’

  She looked at him with antagonism in her gaze. ‘You sound like a concerned father-to-be, but we both know this is not what you want. You’ve never wanted it. The last thing you want is a permanent tie to me, and you can’t get much more permanent than a living, breathing child.’

  He came over to her and, although she tried to resist, he soon had her hands in his. ‘Listen to me, Ava. I know I have handled things badly. I know you are angry and upset and feeling uncertain. But I need you to forgive me for my part in how things turned out. I know it’s asking a lot of you and I know I don’t deserve it.’

  Ava hovered in that dark place between uncertainty and hope. She looked into his unfathomable eyes and wondered if he was backing down because of the possibility of her being pregnant. He was an only child. He had no living heir. How convenient would it be for him to pretend to have feelings for a woman he had mistreated in the past just because she could be carrying his child? It seemed a little too coincidental that on the very day
a pregnancy was suspected he came with apology in hand. ‘I need some time to process this,’ she said, once again pulling out of his hold.

  His jaw worked for a moment as if he was fighting to keep in control. ‘If you are pregnant I insist we marry immediately.’

  Ava felt her mouth fall open. ‘Pardon?’

  He gave her a trenchant look. ‘I do not want any child of mine to be called a bastard.’

  ‘For your information it won’t make much of a difference,’ she shot back.

  ‘I mean it, Ava,’ he said. ‘I will not be shut out of my child’s life.’

  ‘You said you never wanted a child.’

  ‘That was before.’

  She arched her brows. ‘Oh? So what has changed?’

  ‘Things are different now. Everything is different.’

  Ava was not ready to capitulate so readily. ‘I don’t want to rush into anything. You weren’t prepared to marry me before. Why should I accept a proposal that has been forced out of you by circumstances instead of out of genuine desire?’

  ‘I will not be shunted to one side,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t mess with me, Ava. I will take the child off you if I need to. You wouldn’t stand a chance in court, not with the way the Press has savaged your reputation over the years.’

  Ava realised with a sickening jolt he was right. Taking on an opponent such as Marc was asking for a very public, very humiliating defeat. She had thought she still loved him, but right at that moment her hatred of him was immeasurable. It pulsed through her like a raging tide, sweeping away every poignant memory, every precious moment they had spent together.

  It was war and he was determined to win, but she was not going down without a valiant fight.

  She lifted her chin and aimed her knockdown punch where she knew it would hurt the most. ‘You seem pretty convinced the baby I might be expecting is yours. Isn’t that a little presumptuous of you under the circumstances?’

  A lightning-fast zig-zag of anger lit his gaze as her words hit their target. It was a long moment before he spoke, the stretching silence so weighted Ava felt it pressing down on her chest like a concrete hand.

  ‘I suppose I deserve that,’ he said heavily. ‘But I will not insult you by requesting a paternity test.’

  Ava’s mouth fell open again. ‘You…you won’t?’

  He shook his head. ‘Knowing what I know about you now, I have no reason to believe the child is anyone’s but mine.’

  Ava narrowed her eyes. ‘Is that because you’ve had me tailed for weeks on end or because you genuinely believe I don’t sleep around?’

  His gaze remained steady on hers. ‘Ava, this is not helping anything by bringing up the mistakes of the past. If we are to make a success of our relationship we will both have to let go of bitterness and blame.’

  ‘I don’t want to be railroaded into anything without first giving it careful thought,’ she said, pulling on a wrap and tying it securely about her waist.

  ‘I will not settle for anything but marriage,’ he said with an intransigent set to his features.

  She gave him a look of defiance. ‘Then you have got a huge task ahead of you, Marc Castellano, because I am not marrying you.’

  ‘Damn it, Ava, if you don’t marry me I will ruin your family and your friends, every single one of them,’ he said through white-tipped lips. ‘Don’t think I won’t do it to get what I want.’

  Ava felt the cold, hard determination of his words freeze her to the spot. Her heart beat sickeningly, each beat like a blow to her chest. He was ruthless enough to do anything. Hadn’t he already proved it? He had forced her into his life as his mistress and now that the stakes had changed he wanted to rewrite the rules. He wanted control, absolute, total control. ‘Blackmail is not the way to get a girl to agree to be your wife,’ she said in a voice that was not quite steady. ‘Anyway, aren’t you jumping ahead a little? I might not even be pregnant.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. We will be married regardless.’

  ‘Why the sudden change of heart?’ she asked, unable to keep the echo of suspicion out of her tone.

  His dark eyes gave her no clue as to what he was thinking, although she could see a flickering nerve at the side of his mouth. ‘There are some things I need to do in order to correct the mistakes of the past,’ he said. ‘Marrying you is one of them.’

  Ava let out a breath of disdain. ‘I can see why you failed the entrance exam to charm school. That has got to be the most appalling proposal I have ever heard.’

  ‘What do you want me to say, God damn it?’ he asked. ‘I could wrap it up in flowery words and phrases but you wouldn’t believe it for a second.’

  ‘You’re damn right I wouldn’t,’ she shot back.

  He let out a harsh-sounding breath and, turning away from her, shoved a hand through his hair again. When he finally spoke his voice had lowered to a deep burr. ‘I will make arrangements for us to marry in London later this month. It will save your sister from having to travel.’

  ‘You can make all the arrangements you like, but it’s not going to make me say yes,’ Ava said with a furious scowl.

  His eyes met hers across the room. ‘You might want to have a rethink about that, ma belle,’ he said. He came back to where she was standing and lifted her chin with two of his fingers, his voice lowering to a silky drawl. ‘Don’t fight battles you have no hope of winning.’

  ‘You can’t make me love you,’ Ava bit out petulantly.

  His gaze devoured hers as the silence lengthened, moment by moment, heartbeat by heartbeat. ‘That is not a requirement of this arrangement,’ he said, dropping his hand from her face.

  ‘You’re prepared to marry a woman who hates you?’ she asked.

  He gave her an inscrutable flicker of his lips that could have almost passed for a smile. ‘If nothing else it will be a delightful challenge to make you change your mind.’

  She pulled her shoulders back and sent him a flinty glare. ‘Then you’ve got one hell of a task ahead of you.’

  ‘I know.’ He bent down and planted a hot, hard kiss to her tight mouth. ‘I am looking forward to it.’

  Ava watched in silence as he left the room, the soft click of the door as it closed, an ominous reminder of what he had promised and how determined he was to achieve it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  WHEN Ava came downstairs the next morning Marc was on his way up carrying a tray with tea and toast, and a folded newspaper under his arm.

  ‘Why are you out of bed?’ he asked. ‘It’s only just seven.’

  Ava eyed him suspiciously. ‘I’m not an invalid and I always get up early.’

  ‘I know, but you deserve breakfast in bed, surely?’ he said.

  She folded her arms. ‘Why do I get the feeling this is all part of a scheme to get me to agree to your plans?’

  ‘Why do I get the feeling you are fighting me just to prove a point?’ he returned.

  Ava blew out a breath and continued on her way downstairs. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘You have to eat, Ava,’ he insisted as he followed her down. ‘You’ve got to think of the baby.’

  She swung around at the foot of the stairs and glared at him. ‘There probably isn’t a baby. Then what will you do? Retract your proposal?’

  He put the tray down on the hall table and handed her the newspaper. ‘It’s a bit late for that,’ he said. ‘I’ve already released a Press statement.’

  Ava stared down at the section he had folded the paper to. Her heart knocked against her rib cage as the words leapt off the page at her: ‘Grieving widow to wed Italian construction tycoon.’

  She thrust the paper to his mid-section, taking some measure of satisfaction in the little grunt he gave as her hand connected with his abdomen. ‘Then you’ll have to retract it because I am not marrying you.’

  ‘Damn it, Ava, you have to marry me.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked with a hand on one hip. ‘Because otherwise you’re going to ruin my fam
ily and every other person I know and love? I don’t think so, Marc. You might be a bastard at times, but you’re not that big a bastard. In any case, I am tired of being a pawn in rich men’s games. If you want me to marry you then you will have to do it the old-fashioned way.’

  Marc ground his teeth together in frustration. ‘What would it take to get you to change your mind?’

  She rolled her eyes at him. ‘You shouldn’t have to ask!’

  He thrust his hand through his hair, leaving it messier than it had been before. ‘Ava.’ He cleared his throat and began again. ‘I know I should have probably told you this before, but I had a miserable childhood. I know it’s more or less fashionable these days to claim you’ve been stuffed up by your parents’ behaviour, but in this case it’s true.’

  Ava felt her stiff stance ease as she watched the play of emotions on his face. She could see how hard it was for him, the bitterness he felt was written all over his face. She could see the pain in his dark eyes, the frown lines on his forehead bringing his brows almost together.

  ‘My parents divorced when I was seven,’ he said in a voice she barely recognised as his. ‘But for the next three years I watched as my father was repeatedly and publicly humiliated by my mother’s behaviour. She seemed to take some sort of perverse pleasure in dangling each of her toy-boy lovers in his face on every access pick-up. I was sickened by it. I was nothing but a pawn in her game. I don’t think she had the capacity to love a child, or at least not the way a child deserves to be loved. She loved money and living in the fast lane much more. I was an inconvenience, a hindrance that she couldn’t wait to get rid of.’

  ‘Oh, Marc…’

  He held up a hand. ‘No, let me finish,’ he said. He took a ragged breath and continued. ‘From the age of ten, when I saw my father drown himself in alcohol after my mother’s death, I swore I would not let any woman do to me what had been done to him. In the end he lost everything he had worked so hard for. The business that had been in our family for generations went bust, he owed money everywhere. I had to work three jobs while I was still at school and then four while I was at college to pay off the debt after he died.’