My Shocking Monte Carlo Confession (Passion In Paradise Book 12)

by Heidi Rice

  We had a son.

  I tried to cling on to that as I nodded and closed off the aching pain in the pit of my stomach.

  The sting of the tears I was holding back felt like acid burning my eyeballs. I blinked rapidly and nodded again, forcing what I hoped was an approximation of a smile to my face.

  Don’t let him see you break. Pride is all you have now.

  Thank God I had never told him the truth about my so-called other lovers or I would have been even more reduced now, even more vulnerable.

  ‘Okay,’ I said in a brittle voice which I could not let break. ‘Well, let me know when you next want custody of Cai. We should probably arrange proper visitation rights.’

  ‘I’ll get Etienne on it,’ he said, his gaze searing into my soul. But I forced the hurt down, desperate to keep it hidden just a little longer. ‘I’ll give you both a call when I get back from London to make arrangements.’ He nudged a shoulder towards the stairs. ‘I’ll see myself out.’

  ‘Okay,’ I whispered again. But he had already walked past me.

  It seemed to take no more than a second for his footsteps to pad down the hallway and for the front door to slam shut.

  It took longer than an eternity, though, for me to control the painful sobs that consumed me once I had watched his brake lights disappear around the bend in the coast road from the balcony of the room we had once shared.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  One month later

  Alexi

  CAI GIGGLED DELIGHTEDLY as we were both sprayed with champagne by Team Galanti’s drivers—Rene Galoise and Ludovic Seveny—who had just taken the top two positions at the Italian Primo Grande Race. Cai bounced in my arms, adoring the attention—and the chance to join me next to the winners’ podium after the race—as Rene and Ludovic high-fived him. I should be celebrating too, but I couldn’t help searching the crowd for his mother.

  Where the hell was she? It was her job to be here. I could have her fired if she didn’t show.

  I had insisted all my R&D staff attend the race today and the celebration event afterwards in Milan. But I had known, as soon as I’d had Pierre send out the emails a week ago, there was only one person I really wanted to see here.

  Belle.

  ‘Daddy, Daddy, can I go to the party tonight?’ Cai placed his hands on my cheeks to turn my gaze back to him. ‘Rene said I could.’

  ‘I am afraid not,’ I said. ‘You will have to stay at the hotel tonight with Carly,’ I added, naming the nanny I had employed for when I had care of him. Cai usually adored spending time with her in the evenings, on the rare occasions when I had to attend events without him, but even so his bottom lip quivered.

  ‘But, Daddy, I want to,’ he said.

  I steeled myself against the adorable pout, which I had discovered in the last month my son was a master of applying, and the tantrum I had no doubt was coming. Cai had been at the track all day with me, eating junk food and getting everything he desired, because I was always tempted to spoil him when he was with me. But there was usually a price to pay for that.

  Tonight, though, was an adults-only affair. An adult affair that his mother was supposed to be attending. His mother whom I had not seen for over a month. Not since the night I had walked away from her.

  Ever since I had returned from London, she had endeavoured never to be at the villa in Nice when I came to pick up Cai or drop him off. And at work I had made a point of avoiding her.

  I hadn’t lied completely about not wanting to complicate our working relationship. But that was going to stop. Tonight.

  Because I missed her—much more than I had thought possible. Not just her passion, her hot, responsive body and the time we spent together with Cai—she certainly was much more skilled at dealing with that pout than I was—but also her smile, her wit, her tenderness, her intelligence and that captivating sparkle in her eyes whenever she’d been testing out her flirtation skills on me. I even missed her blushes, those vibrant flashes of red that made her freckles light up her face.

  I wanted her back in my bed again. In my life. But I’d had to steal myself against approaching her at work. I didn’t want to step over that line, compromise her, myself or the incredible job she was doing on the new prototype, according to my R&D manager, Ben Allison. But I had been forced to break even that embargo a week ago when I had composed that email.

  I had ended our affair too soon. I wasn’t over her yet, not completely. I’d allowed my fear to drive my actions, which was pathetic and beneath me. Why should we not continue our affair in private while co-parenting our son? How else was I going to get rid of this grinding sense of loss whenever I thought about her, which was far too often?

  But despite that I did not want to make the first move. I had made a decision to get her to attend the race, assuming she would come to find her son—and me—as soon as she arrived. But I hadn’t seen her at all.

  Agitated and frustrated, I tapped out a text to Pierre on my phone.

  Did Belle Simpson get on the Galanti jet with the rest of the R&D staff, this morning?

  The reply popped up on my phone.

  Yes, Alexi, she is here... Somewhere. I think I saw her chatting to Renzo Camaro and one of his technicians earlier.

  I frowned. Why was she talking to Camaro? She didn’t work for him any more, she worked for me.

  I stifled my temper and shoved the phone in my back pocket. Didn’t matter. The point was, even if she hadn’t come to find Cai and me today, she would be at the event tonight. I had arranged for Carly to stay with our son until the morning, giving me ample time to seduce his mother.

  Cai started to cry as I calmly and firmly explained to him again that he would not be going to the party.

  He rubbed his eyes, so I hugged him a little closer. He was tired and cranky. I needed to get him back to the hotel and into bed.

  But as I headed through the crowd towards the car park, still searching for a glimpse of Belle, a thought occurred to me.

  Was Belle avoiding me deliberately?

  Warmth and regret flooded through me. Why hadn’t I seen the obvious before now? Of course she was avoiding me. I had rejected her. And her pride had forced her to hide the hurt I’d caused.

  I promised myself that tonight I would correct that mistake. I would show Belle how much I respected her, and her work, and tell her I wanted her back.

  I was the one who had ended our affair too soon. So I was the one who needed to make this first move.

  The surge of passion and possessiveness was joined by the visceral need that had terrified me a month ago but didn’t scare me so much any more.

  I’d proved I could live without Belle for a month, but why live without her any longer if I didn’t have to?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Belle

  ‘YOU LOOK EXQUISITE TONIGHT, Belle.’ Renzo’s smile was full of appreciation and just a hint of more. If I wanted it.

  A part of me wished I did.

  Dressed in a tailored grey designer suit, Renzo looked impossibly handsome tonight—tall, dark and Italian. Even the scar on his cheek only added to his rugged masculine beauty. He had always been kind to me both as an employer and now as a friend. But unfortunately he didn’t make my heartbeat accelerate whenever he was near me. And nothing about him made me yearn for his touch. His taste. His approval.

  Even so, I forced what I hoped was a flirtatious smile to my lips. Tonight I was determined to try.

  It had been a month since Alexi had walked away from me, and I had spent more than enough time grieving the loss. And beating myself up about how foolish I had been ever to believe we could have had more than a quick fling.

  He had devastated me again. But this time I had let him by investing much more in that relationship than had ever been there. Alexi would be here tonight to celebrate another triumph for the Galanti t
eam, no doubt with a new supermodel on his arm, and I wanted to be able to greet him without giving him even a hint of how destroyed I had been by his desertion.

  I’d cried pitifully that night, but had picked myself up the next morning to be a mother. The first few days had been exceptionally tough as I started my new job—terrified that Alexi would appear, but thankfully he never had. And eventually the work, and Cai, had saved me from sinking further into the pit. I knew it would probably be a very long time before I would ever want another man the way I had wanted Alexi, but I had to stop hiding.

  It wasn’t good for Cai and it wasn’t good for me either.

  I refused to let Alexi have that power over me. He’d been callous and unkind, but he was still my boss, and I didn’t want to jeopardise my career with Galanti over something that had always been doomed to failure.

  Alexi wasn’t capable of trusting women. In the back of my mind, I had always known that.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure I can’t tempt you away from Galanti?’ Renzo carried on talking as he whisked a glass of champagne off a passing tray and handed it to me. ‘I’m still annoyed he managed to tempt you away from me in the first place.’

  I sipped the champagne.

  ‘I’m afraid not, Renzo, but I’m happy to let you keep trying,’ I teased, from the marble balcony where we’d positioned ourselves as my gaze darted once again to the entrance of the Grande Palazzo Hotel’s elegant ballroom.

  My heart thrummed in my chest.

  Cai was staying in the hotel with Alexi and his entourage. I’d seen the two of them together earlier in the day at the track on the winners’ podium from my seat in the stand. That I hadn’t been able to get up the courage to approach them both afterwards, to congratulate Alexi on the team’s win and check on my son, had made me realise I had to get over the last of my feelings for Alexi and close for ever that deep well of sadness—and unrequited yearning—that still overwhelmed me every time I thought of him.

  It wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t fair on our son. I’d been a coward once before and Cai had suffered. I wasn’t going to do that again.

  So stop looking for him like a lovelorn little girl. You’re over him.

  I forced my gaze back to Renzo and the fanciful spires of the Duomo di Milano, lit by the setting sun in the distance. And willed my fingers to relax their grip on the champagne flute as Renzo continued to flirt with me.

  When Alexi finally showed I would be professional and impersonal. I would show him that I had survived, that I wasn’t enthralled by him any longer and that he hadn’t broken my heart. Because he really hadn’t. All he’d done was bruise it a little. My heart was strong, because it had had to be. But as Renzo and I began to chat about the latest Galanti X model—with Renzo gently probing for information I had no intention of giving him—I could still feel the pulse of sadness that had never really gone away since Remy’s death.

  I took another gulp of champagne and dismissed it, as I had a million times before.

  I was strong. I was a survivor. If Remy’s death hadn’t broken me, nothing ever could. Not even losing Alexi.

  Alexi

  As I entered the ballroom, I scanned the crowd, keeping a lid on my frustration as friends and acquaintances accosted me to offer their congratulations.

  At last my gaze snagged on the open doors across the ballroom. And the longing that had been gripping my chest for weeks sunk deep into my abdomen, twisting my guts into tight knots of need... And fury.

  The mother of my son, the woman who I had come here to get back, stood on the balcony with Camaro. A wispy dress of summer green hugged her slender curves, displaying her cleavage like an offering, her russet hair lit to gold by the sunset.

  Abruptly cutting off the latest congratulations, I marched through the crowd, never taking my eyes off her.

  How dared Camaro talk to her, flirt with her? What secrets was he trying to prise out of her? The crowd parted to let me pass, probably sensing my foul mood, but then I saw her smile at him and a knife lanced into my gut.

  Were they sleeping together?

  I gritted my teeth as I stepped onto the terrace. My fury was only fuelled by the pain knifing into my stomach.

  What the hell had I been thinking? Why had I let her go?

  Renzo saw me first, his brows launching up his forehead, but then he smiled—the sensual, assured smile of a man who was in control—and the last thread on my own control snapped.

  The wispy curls of Belle’s up-do clung to her nape and my mouth dried to parchment, the urge to kiss her there, to make her sigh, sob and ache, and to drag her back into my arms—where she had always belonged—making my voice crack.

  ‘Belle, we have to talk.’

  She swung round, startled, and the champagne in her glass splashed over her fingers. The intense desire to lick it off turned the mix of pain, fury and bone-deep regret in my gut to something much more volatile.

  ‘Alexi, is—is something wrong?’ she stammered, her gaze shadowed. For a moment I thought I saw hurt there. But I couldn’t be sure.

  What was I doing here, behaving like a jealous lunatic?

  What if I had been wrong about her needing me as much as I needed her? What if she didn’t care for me at all—any more than my mother had?

  ‘Yes, Alexi,’ Camaro said, the smile turning to a grin. ‘What’s the problem?’ he asked, but I could see he knew exactly what the problem was, and he was deliberately making it worse.

  Bastardo.

  Another time, I would not have risen to the bait. But tonight my usual humour, my usual charm, my usual control, had deserted me.

  He was standing too damn close to her.

  I swore at him in Italian, gutter words I knew he would understand, because he came from the gutter, and that was where he belonged.

  I grabbed the front of Camaro’s suit and yanked him towards me. Belle gasped.

  ‘Leave, now,’ I growled in Italian. ‘And never dare to touch her again.’

  He only laughed, disengaging my hands, and brushed down the front of his suit. ‘If you wanted her, perhaps you should have staked a claim,’ he said to me, also in Italian, words he knew Belle would not understand.

  But then he turned to her and bowed. ‘Belle, I will leave you with your boss,’ he said, lifting her hand and buzzing a kiss across her knuckles. I imagined knocking out his teeth. ‘But remember, the offer still stands. Ciao.’

  Saluting me, he strolled away.

  ‘Come,’ I said, grasping her hand, barely able to speak now round my fear. I forced my fury to the fore—with Camaro, with myself—to try and stem the terrible feeling of déjà vu.

  Belle didn’t care for me, because no one could. Only Remy had. And I had lost him long ago—without ever really deserving him. Any more than I deserved Belle.

  But Renzo was right. I should have staked a claim to her. Bound her to me with sex. She was the mother of my son. Surely that gave me a right to have her? A right to want her by my side?

  I marched to the opposite end of the balcony that wrapped around the ballroom, heading for the entrance to the main lobby, clasping her wrist too tightly, but unable to loosen my grip.

  I had seen the flash of need in her eyes when she had first laid eyes on me. She wasn’t immune. There was still desire there, a desire I could exploit. A desire I would exploit. If sex was the only way I could make her return to me, I would use it. And be grateful.

  But as we reached the end of the terrace, she tugged her hand out of my grasp.

  ‘Alexi, stop, where are you taking me?’

  I turned back to her and cradled her cheek, no longer able to stem the urge to touch that soft skin. ‘To my suite, where else?’ I said as she shuddered, the spark of desire in her wide eyes both gratifying and torturous.

  How had I ever let her go? Why had I? I couldn’t seem to make s
ense of any of my decisions any more. My mind was a blur of long-ago fears and much more current ones. Why had it never occurred to me until this very moment that I could not live without this woman in my life? And it had nothing to do with the beautiful son she had given me. Or even the insane sexual chemistry we shared.

  The pain twisted and sharpened in my gut as she jerked away from my touch and the spark of desire, the shadow of hurt in her eyes, died, replaced by something blank, shuttered and guarded.

  Was she scared of me? The thought horrified me and humbled me.

  Her whole body trembled, making me desperate to gather her in my arms and soothe her, promise her I would do anything to get her back. But the words got lodged in my throat, my own fear so huge now it consumed me. What if it wasn’t fear I saw, but indifference? The same indifference I had seen flash in my mother’s eyes when I had pleaded with her not to leave and she had simply laughed and left anyway.

  But when Belle’s gaze locked on mine and she spoke, she didn’t sound scared or indifferent, she sounded brave...and indomitable. ‘Whatever you have to say to me, we can talk here.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk, the time for talk is over,’ I managed, frantic now, because I knew there was nothing I could say to make her stay. All I had now was our sexual connection. The cruel irony of that didn’t escape me as I reached for her hand again, desperate to get her alone so I could touch her and tempt her, taste her and tease her, until she came apart in my arms as she had so often before...

  Then I would never have to voice these terrible needs, never have to endure her rejection...

  But she yanked her hand from my grasp.

  ‘Don’t touch me, Alexi, you have no right,’ she said, her voice low and shaky but somehow unyielding.

  It was too much.

  The red mist that had descended when I had first spotted her smiling at Camaro returned. But this time I welcomed it to smother my fear.