Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding

by Sharon Kendrick

  There had been only one person in the equation who’d had any right to hear her momentous news and he had treated that announcement with contempt. For now, the most important thing was taking care of herself with good food and plenty of rest and working out what to do.

  But she needed to get out of the house before her mother came back—took one look at her pale and tear-stained face and guessed at the huge change which had taken place in her life.

  Wrapping up in warm layers and cramming a woollen beany over her plaited hair, she set off for a walk.

  The ocean wasn’t far away from anywhere in the village—that was one of the best things about it. Everywhere you went you could hear it swishing away in the background. There was something oddly comforting about its relentless motion and constant presence and Cassie wondered how many little human dramas it had lain witness to. How many women like her had walked along its shores while salt droplets had mingled with tears on their cold cheeks and they railed against men who didn’t want them?

  On a grey, January day like today the mood of the water reflected her own inner turmoil as giant breakers foamed up from the grey waters and crashed down onto the shiny dark slate rocks. All around her the wind howled like a caged beast and even the gulls sat motionless on the rocks—the gusts of air too violent for them to risk flying.

  Cassie walked up the coastal path which led over the cliffs—a walk she had done countless times—and which usually left her feeling exhilarated and glad to be alive. But today her head was so full of troubled thoughts that it made counting her blessings a real challenge.

  On and on she walked, until, aware of the fading light, she set back for home—still trying to work out some of the practical problems which lay ahead. At least the fresh air and exercise had left her feeling better and reinforced the fact that she was young and fit and could face anything. And at least she had a supportive mother and a roof over her head—women had brought babies into the world on much less than that.

  But as she approached the final descent towards the village she narrowed her eyes in disbelief. For striding along the coastal path towards her was a figure which had once been so dear to her, but who now seemed to strike misery at her heart.

  Giancarlo.

  Giancarlo?

  Clothed completely in black, he seemed like the personification of the devil. His black hair was windswept, his eyes were sending out ebony sparks—and the angry set of his features made him look positively forbidding.

  She didn’t call or say a word, even though the wind had now dropped, bestowing the atmosphere with a quiet, almost unworldly air. And it was only when she was close enough to see the hard glitter of his angry eyes and the set displeasure of his rugged features that she spoke—the words sounding as if she were reading them from an autocue.

  ‘How did you get here so quickly?’

  ‘I drove.’

  ‘What, abandoned your oh-so-important meetings?’ she questioned bitterly.

  ‘My priorities seem to have shifted in the light of what you said on the phone.’ Black eyes blazed. ‘So what was it, Cassie—did you look at my lifestyle and my wealth and decide that you wanted some of it? Did you decide that a baby could guarantee you a lifetime meal ticket and catapult you into a different stratosphere altogether? Was that the reason behind your inexplicable refusal to let me buy you a coat in Paris? To lull me into a false sense of security before you made your coup de grâce?’

  There was a moment of stunned and painful silence before she turned on him, her gloved hands clenched into fists by her sides. ‘How dare you? I didn’t plot for this to happen—it just did! Pregnancies do, Giancarlo—and, if you remember, you were the one who said you’d take care of contraception! And if you think I’d willingly choose a cold-hearted bastard like you to be the father of my child, then you are labouring under a big fat illusion!’ Cassie swallowed, the excess of emotion making her feel dizzy. ‘Anyway, you’ve made your feelings on the subject transparently clear—just as I thought I made mine. I told you that I didn’t want you or need you—so would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?’

  Giancarlo looked into her pale features. Had he thought that somehow it wouldn’t be true? That he would arrive and she would bite her lip and tell him it had all been a silly mistake and she’d misread the instructions on the test? But Giancarlo could tell instantly that there had been no mistake. Something about her had changed. Some new quality had entered those violet eyes and there was an unfamiliar detached expression on her face as she looked at him His mouth hardened. Did she think that he wanted this any more than she did?

  But somewhere along the way—between the phone call and hearing her passionate defence—his own anger had fled. The situation had not been one of his choosing, but he would now mould it to suit his needs, the way he always did. His ability to be flexible had been one of the factors behind his incredible success—and Cassandra Summers would not stand in his way.

  His eyes flicked over her assessingly. ‘I have come to tell you that we will be married,’ he said.

  Chapter Eight

  ACROSS the divide of the coastal path, Cassie stared at her black-eyed Italian lover as he came out with his extraordinary statement. For a moment, she wondered if the raw cawing sound of the circling seagulls had distorted what he’d said. But he had meant every word—she could tell that from the cold, grim look on his face, as if he had just been forced to do something against his will. And of course, he had, hadn’t he?

  Opening her mouth to answer him, she could hear nothing but the screaming birds and the helpless thunder of her heart. ‘What…what on earth are you talking about, Giancarlo?’

  ‘I am talking about marriage!’ His mouth hardened as another blast of cold wind gusted through his hair. ‘A marriage to legitimise the child we have created between us.’

  It was a bald declaration and completely lacking in romance but, in a stupid way, Cassie was grateful for that. Because it meant that she could deal with it in an equally cold-blooded way—even though once she would have rejoiced at the thought of Giancarlo making such a proposition.

  ‘But we no longer live in that kind of world!’ she protested. ‘Where couples have to wed just because the woman’s pregnant.’

  His eyes were icy. ‘You think that perhaps there is an alternative?’

  ‘Of…of course there is. We can work something out—there are plenty of civilised ways of going about this. Women do it all the time.’

  ‘Not with my child, they don’t!’ he snarled.

  ‘Listen.’ Cassie sucked in a deep breath, knowing that she needed to stay calm. ‘I will never deny you access, Giancarlo—I promise you that.’

  ‘You will never deny me access,’ he repeated incredulously. ‘Do you think you hold all the power, Cassandra?’

  ‘But this isn’t about power! It’s not some boardroom battle which you’ve got to win!’ she answered, thinking that pregnancy could make a woman strong. That the new life growing inside her could help her throw off some of the fears which had blighted her old life. And she would not let her rich lover trample all over her. Ex-lover, she reminded herself bitterly. ‘It’s about a baby!’

  He sucked in a ragged breath as shadows of the past came back to haunt him. ‘You think I don’t know that? That I would be here if it weren’t for a baby?’

  Cassie flinched as he unwittingly told her how little she meant to him. ‘No, I wouldn’t dream of making so fundamental a mistake as that,’ she said dully.

  ‘Then what kind of man do you think I am? One who will walk away? Or one who can just be fobbed off—who will stand on the sidelines while you control the fate of my child?’

  ‘And you think that offering me marriage will make it better?’ She thought about the reality of the situation. A marriage between a billionaire and a shop-girl—a woman he had chosen to have no more than a three-week affair with. Was he out of his mind? ‘Tell me how that’s supposed to work?’

  ‘We will m
ake it work,’ he ground out. ‘Because we have to. Because there is a baby and we owe it to that baby.’ The thought of his seed growing inside her made his gut clench with unfamiliar emotion—but he could see the terrible whitening of her face and could not be sure whether the faint sway of her delicate frame was due to the bitingly cold air or to shock. And suddenly he was appalled at himself. That he should rail against a woman who was with child! Cupping her elbow with his hand, he was taken aback by how frail she felt beneath the waterproof jacket she wore and his face tensed. ‘And we cannot talk here. Come. Veni.’

  She was aware that he was guiding her down the path to the small car park, where his car sat beside the churning sea, looking incongruously luxurious with its black and gleaming bodywork. And never had she been more grateful for its cushioned warmth as she climbed in the back seat, with Giancarlo sliding in beside her.

  He turned to her as she pulled off the woollen hat—thinking that the single plait of hair which tumbled down made her look ridiculously young. ‘Who else knows about this?’

  ‘No one.’

  ‘Not even your mother?’

  ‘Especially not my mother.’ She met the question in his black eyes and gave a hollow laugh. ‘Funnily enough, mothers aren’t crazy about their daughters getting pregnant by men they’ve only just met and then split up with.’

  ‘She knows the nature of our relationship?’

  ‘Of course she doesn’t! She knows I…met someone.’ And hadn’t Cassie seen concern pleat her mother’s brow as she had gently tried to ask her daughter if anything was wrong?

  ‘But she will approve of our marriage,’ he said slowly. ‘She will approve of me.’

  It wasn’t a question, Cassie realised—but a proud statement. And she supposed that when you were stunningly successful and powerful and had always had every woman you wanted—bar the one who had broken your heart—you would develop a certain arrogant pride in your own worth. To Giancarlo’s mind he was exactly the kind of catch that every mother secretly wanted for her daughter. ‘Because you’re rich, you mean?’

  ‘Because I will be able to provide for you, and our child.’ His voice dipped. ‘But approval—while preferable—is not essential. For I will never give up what is rightfully mine.’

  Rightfully mine. His words of stark possession appalled her—even though she understood exactly where they were coming from. Cassie stared into the determined set of his proud features, remembering how his family inheritance had been taken by his twin brother because of an accident of birth. And because of that, a baby would mean more to him than to most men, she realised. This baby was going to be his first-born. The child who would inherit. The child he had never been. Suddenly, she saw just why he would never give up on his baby and a feeling of dread closed like a dark net over her heart.

  ‘So it’s a done deal,’ she said, in a voice which sounded hollow.

  ‘Indeed it is. I am glad that you are beginning to see sense, mia bella,’ he said softly. ‘All we need now is to work out the best way of presenting it.’

  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.’

  For a moment, Cassie was torn between horror and admiration for the sheer cold-bloodedness of his proposal. He really was a cynic. Did he think that her mother would be swept away by the promise of a luxury wedding? Maybe he did. He had told her himself that he had a lifelong mistrust of wome
n—and hadn’t the only woman he had ever loved been blinded by the dazzle of wealth? The question was whether she should walk straight into an arranged marriage with such a man.

  But what alternative did she have?

  She tried to imagine the reality of going it alone as a single mother. Her mother’s initial shock and disappointment would inevitably give way to affection—and any baby would be welcomed and adored into their little home. But it wasn’t her mother’s responsibility—and having a grandchild would impact heavily on her life. She was only just emerging from the grief of widowhood—and didn’t she deserve a little freedom of her own?

  Cassie thought about leaving a little baby while she went to work in the shop—and even if she got her promotion there would be hardly enough money to go round. She would be subjecting her child to a lifetime of making-do—while all the time the powerful and wealthy persona of his father would be hovering in the background.

  And wouldn’t Giancarlo be preparing to strike at the earliest opportunity? Eager to seize the chance to take the baby away from her. To whisk him or her off to London—or, worse, another capital city—where her child might become gradually inaccessible to her, protected by the impermeable barriers of great wealth.

  There was something else, too—something she didn’t want to acknowledge, even to herself. That the world seemed less frightening when Giancarlo was by her side. In a funny kind of way, he made her feel safe. He could make her heart leap with desire just by the brief brush of his lips. Somehow, he had the ability to make her feel alive—truly alive.

  With a little nod of her head, she realised that capitulation was the only way forward—a sort of gritting her teeth and making the best of it.