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by Susan Stephens


  The remark was like a dash of cold water in her face. How could she have forgotten why she was here?

  ‘I take it that is why you came to Niroli?’ His lips tugged up in a cynical smile and he eased his shoulders as if he’d had a good workout. ‘You can use the bathroom off the corridor while I take a quick shower. When you’ve finished I’ll have someone show you out…’

  The way she felt…failure didn’t even begin to cover it. She walked numbly in the direction he indicated and then stopped by the door, lacking the will to move until Nico left the room.

  He paced up and down outside the bathroom door waiting for her to come out. What was keeping her?

  He stepped back as she opened the door. She looked like a wraith. What had happened to Carrie since she had left the office? And what was coming next? He couldn’t help remembering her raunchy underwear. There was a whole lot more to this woman he wasn’t getting.

  She glanced up and blushed as if she sensed his mood deteriorating. She was right to be worried. How she could she be so sexually charged one moment and so meek and mild the next? It was enough to make any man suspicious.

  But then she stumbled, and he caught her, and when he had to hold her close he felt things he didn’t want to feel. He’d fought emotion all his life. He reacted the usual way, with swift rejection of his feelings. ‘What’s happened to you, Carrie?’

  ‘You happened to me, Nico…’ She quickly recovered and, straightening up, brushed away his steadying hand. ‘You’re like a drug…A drug I find dangerously addictive.’

  It was such a piece of drama coming from his mouse he almost laughed. They both knew what they had, and that it wasn’t going anywhere. It was then he saw her feet were bleeding. ‘For goodness’ sake, Carrie, why didn’t you say something?’

  He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh and felt bad seeing tears in her eyes. They were such tiny feet, on closer inspection, and the damage had been done by some cheap plastic sandals. He felt a tug somewhere deep inside him, which he immediately shrugged off. ‘We’ll have to do something about this,’ he said impatiently, glancing at his watch.

  The small first-aid room was located just off the palace kitchen. It was tiled in white and smelled of disinfectant. Carrie couldn’t care less about her feet. She was with Nico and now she had to tell him her news.

  He ran some warm water into a bowl, and added a drop of disinfectant. Grabbing a towel, he swung it over his shoulder. ‘Put your feet in here. You’ll have to soak them for a few minutes.’

  Remembering his ten-minute deadline, Carrie felt hysterical laughter leap in her throat. But she didn’t see the funny side for long. His deadline undoubtedly involved Princess Anastasia. Nico could look forward to his evening with the princess now that he was replete and could relax. He might come from the highest family in the land, but Nico was a primal force who needed a regular outlet for his energy, and she was that outlet when there was no other sport to be enjoyed. Taking her up against the wall when the servants might have come in at any moment and disturbed them was just another form of risk-taking, providing Nico with all the elements of danger he enjoyed.

  She had enjoyed it, too, Carrie accepted. More than enjoyed it. Nico’s love-making filled her with joy and with purpose…while it lasted. But lust was no foundation for a family, and maybe she could bear the pain of his rejection, but she didn’t want that for her baby.

  When Nico examined her feet and handled them with the greatest care it was all she could do to hold back her tears. All she had ever wanted was a home full of love, a family, and she wanted Nico to be part of that family.

  ‘How could you do this to yourself, Carrie?’ he demanded reproachfully.

  ‘I didn’t do it on purpose.’ She kept her voice light. She didn’t want Nico to feel responsible for her. She didn’t want him thinking her weak; he must never think her weak. She wasn’t his mouse, and never would be again, not now that she had a child to consider.

  ‘These shoes are meant for the beach, not for walking round town.’

  ‘I only had city shoes with me when I landed, and I couldn’t find any shops—’

  ‘There are plenty of shops…’

  But none she could afford, Carrie thought, not wanting to say as much to Nico. She didn’t want to give him the impression that she was hard up, or a hard-luck case.

  He looked at her thoughtfully, as if he knew she couldn’t afford anything from the shops in Niroli, and maybe even admired her a little for keeping silent.

  She hoped that was what had brought the softening to his lips. ‘I should have known I can’t wear flip-flops; they always hurt my feet.’

  ‘If you knew—’He stopped as if he didn’t want to start an argument and started storming through the cupboards instead. ‘There should be antiseptic cream in here somewhere….’

  He insisted on drying her feet on a fluffy white towel, which he rested on his knees. And when he put the cream on he did so very gently.

  She had to brace herself. She had to tense every muscle so she didn’t show him how that made her feel, but even so her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘It isn’t that bad, is it?’ Nico said, straightening up to look at her.

  Worse than he knew. ‘No, fine,’ she assured him.

  And then he did the one thing she dreaded most. Reaching into the inside breast pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a wad of notes. ‘You really must get yourself some decent shoes, Carrie.’

  She could only stare in horror at the money.

  ‘Here, take it,’ he pressed.

  ‘I don’t want it…’ She couldn’t stop staring at it.

  ‘Don’t be so silly,’ he insisted. ‘You used to work for me. Let’s call it severance pay, if that makes you feel better.’

  ‘Let’s not…’ Firming her lips, she slipped down from the seat. ‘Will you show me out, or shall I find someone else to do it?’

  He moved in front of the door to block her way. ‘What’s wrong with you, Carrie? You never used to be like this—’

  ‘You mean I used to be a pushover?’

  ‘No, I don’t mean that, and you know it—’

  ‘Do I, Nico?’ She was conscious that the mood had disintegrated into acrimony. How could she tell him about their baby now? She was determined to choose the right moment, and this wasn’t it. ‘Thank you for bathing my feet.’ She glanced at the door.

  ‘You’re not leaving until you tell me why you’re here.’

  ‘Then we’re going to be here a very long time.’

  ‘I need an answer, Carrie.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to be late for the princess?’

  ‘She can wait.’

  Nico’s attitude surprised her. It suggested he was in no hurry to see Anastasia. Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?

  He glanced at his watch again. ‘We’ll have to make another appointment. I can’t do this now…’

  Carrie’s cheeks blazed red. No doubt a regular meeting while she was on the island would be convenient for Nico.

  ‘You want something from me,’ he said, fixing her with a firm stare, ‘and I’m going to find out what it is.’

  ‘Yes, I do want something,’ Carrie admitted, ‘but it’s not what you think—’

  ‘All right, I’ll make time. We’ll discuss it now.’

  ‘And make you late for the state banquet?’

  ‘Like the princess, that can wait.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CLOSING the door to his private apartment, Nico watched as Carrie took in her surroundings. She had liked it the first time, and now she wanted to have a closer look at things. Many of the pieces he kept in Niroli belonged in a museum, but he had grown up with them. That was the trouble with extreme wealth—you took everything for granted—and he hardly noticed the trappings now. But seeing the room through Carrie’s eyes made him appreciate things he’d hardly noticed before.

  She was impressed, though not by the value of his possessions, she was genuinely in
terested. He watched her dip her head to examine a jade ornament more closely.

  ‘Do you like it?’ She was trailing her forefinger across the back of a Ming-dynasty horse. It was priceless, but, of course, she couldn’t know that. It had a finely carved saddle with elaborate fringing, and was an outstanding example of some ancient artisan’s skill. There was no chance he could give it to her, but he’d seen pictures of it in the palace gift store. ‘I’m sure we can find you a postcard in the shop.’

  The look she gave him was pure ice. A postcard in exchange for sex—was that what she thought? He brought the shutters down. He couldn’t risk antagonising her until he found out what she was doing in Niroli.

  She didn’t want a trip to the gift shop as a reward for being a good girl, and she felt like telling Nico to get over himself. She wanted to tell him that his fabulous wealth would pale in the face of her news, but when he eased his collar and moved restlessly she knew he was uncomfortable in a room with overdressed windows and silk-draped walls, and felt some sympathy for him. Her first impression of the décor had been good, but on closer inspection Carrie thought it cloying and could see why it wouldn’t suit Nico. The palace might be his family home, but Nico was a free spirit. Niroli was too small an island to contain him, and his decision to leave the country as a youth to make his way in London was certainly no mystery to her now. She was beginning to understand him, which gave her courage. ‘This isn’t easy for me, Nico…’

  ‘Try me,’ he prompted.

  ‘When I left the office, I had no idea that…’ He nodded encouragement. ‘I had no idea that I was pregnant.’

  ‘What?’

  He sounded and looked incredulous. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said again, telling him the news in a soft, happy voice. The idea was still new to her, still surrounded by its own little aura of light.

  It took her a moment to realise how quiet the room had become, and then Nico said evenly, ‘What’s that got to do with me?’

  Her tongue froze, and at the very moment when she should have been at her most eloquent she saw his mouth begin to curve with contempt. ‘E-everything,’ she managed to stutter, feeling in that moment as if she had been sucked into outer space where there was no warmth, no air, no comfort for her anywhere.

  ‘What do you mean, Carrie? “Everything?”’

  ‘I mean, you’re the father of my baby, Nico—’

  ‘What?’ he exploded. His voice had gone instantly cold and, shaking his head, he turned away.

  ‘Nico, I swear—’

  ‘You swear?’ He turned back, head down, eyes full of a terrifying emotion she’d never seen before. She reached out to him, but he pulled away.

  She was a liar. Carrie was a liar. She had reminded him in the cruellest way possible that he was infertile and could never have the family he longed for. Emotion swirled inside him, threatening to erupt. It escaped in words, harsh, ugly words: ‘I’m not the father of your baby, Carrie.’

  He wasn’t prepared for the pain he felt saying that—the pain of knowing the child she carried couldn’t be his. It was unbearable, excruciating; he couldn’t bear to think of her with some other man. ‘We had sex,’ he said cruelly, instinct driving him to hurt as much as she had hurt him. ‘We had sex, and that was all—’

  ‘It wasn’t just sex to me, Nico.’

  How could she think him so gullible? She asked too much. The travesty of wanting something so badly only to have it delivered to him twisted and spoiled…‘If it wasn’t sex what was it?’ The ferocity in his voice shocked him and he didn’t know if he could control the rage building inside him. If he couldn’t then he must end this now. ‘Did you think I would go down on bended knee the next morning and propose marriage to you?’ His eyes, his voice couldn’t have been harder.

  ‘Please, Nico—’

  ‘Don’t touch me!’ He shook her off. ‘You wanted sex every bit as much as I did and we both knew what we were doing. You hadn’t been drinking; I’d been watching you, so don’t go down that road. Sex that night had nothing to do with love, or long-term commitment, and I never let you think that once, did I?’

  She couldn’t argue with him. She was too stunned, too sick inside to know how to answer him.

  ‘I’ll write you a cheque now if that’s what it takes to get you off my back.’

  Nico’s cruel words forced Carrie to face the truth. Her child had been conceived in a ferment of lust, and her baby’s father couldn’t stand the sight of her. But she loved him. She still loved him. She always would.

  ‘Let’s stop playing games, Carrie.’

  Something was nagging at her, something wasn’t right. Nico was so sure of himself, so very sure…

  ‘I don’t know who you’ve been with, or why he won’t support you, but if you’ve come here out of desperation just tell me how much you want.’

  Carrie was stunned. She couldn’t believe what Nico was thinking. ‘I don’t want your money.’

  ‘Then, what do you want?’

  ‘I want nothing for myself. All I ask is that you acknowledge our child—’

  ‘Our child? I don’t have a child! And as for you?’ His stare lingered on her still-flat stomach. ‘How do I know you’re even pregnant?’ His gaze flashed up, demanding an answer.

  ‘Do you think I’d lie about something like this?’

  ‘How do I know what to think? You sneak into the palace like a thief—’

  ‘Don’t turn this into something squalid!’

  ‘Don’t you!’ Nico warned softly. ‘The Carrie Evans I knew wouldn’t use a child as a bargaining counter.’

  ‘And I’m not doing that now. Nico, how can you be so sure you’re not the father of my child?’

  ‘I know I’m not.’ His mouth flattened, telling her that was his final answer.

  ‘But there’s been no one else,’ Carrie said in confusion. ‘The baby is yours—’

  ‘No one else?’ Nico cut across her.

  His silence now reminded Carrie of the frivolous underwear she had bought on the market, the underwear she had helped him to remove. Surely, he didn’t think…‘Nico, please believe me, I was a virgin that night—’

  ‘A virgin?’ He shook his head grimly. ‘This lie of yours has gone far enough.’ Taking hold of her, he tried to lead her from the room, but she had more strength than he knew.

  ‘I suggest you leave before I do something I might regret, Carrie.’

  ‘Like what?’ She refused to move another inch. ‘What would you do, Nico? Would you hit me? Would you force me out of here? Would you strike a pregnant woman?’

  The blood drained from his face. ‘I wouldn’t touch anyone in mindless anger.’

  ‘Just as I wouldn’t lie to you,’ she assured him, holding his gaze, willing him to believe her.

  ‘You’ve just proved that you would,’ Nico said. Walking to the door, he opened it wide. ‘Now, please leave.’

  ‘Nico—’

  He turned his face away from her as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her a moment longer and his voice when he spoke next was the voice of a stranger. ‘I feel as if I’ve been with a very different woman to the sweet girl I employed. You’re a better actress than I thought, Carrie Evans, and a crueller one, but don’t think you can lay your mistakes at my door.’

  ‘My baby isn’t a mistake,’ she assured him tensely. ‘The only mistake I made was getting involved with you.’

  ‘It’s time to accept I’m not the father of your baby.’

  ‘Nico, you must believe—’

  ‘I can assure you I’m not. Your plan has badly misfired.’

  ‘My plan?’ She looked at him in bewilderment, but there was no chance to press him because in her worst nightmare come true Princess Anastasia was bearing down on them.

  Wearing a slinky black dress with earrings so long the diamonds glittered on her shoulders like drops of sweat, the princess came straight to Nico’s side and linked arms with him.

  ‘Darling, what’s taking you so lon
g?’ she purred into his ear.

  ‘Forgive me, Anastasia,’ he said smoothly, moving away. Thrusting Carrie behind him, Nico planted himself in front of her.

  Carrie blenched as she viewed her rival through the small space left between Nico and the door frame. She might as well retire gracefully now. She was nothing but a little drab compared to the princess.

  ‘I heard raised voices, darling.’ Peering round Nico, Anastasia tried to get a better view of Carrie. ‘You don’t have a problem, I hope?’

  ‘No problem,’ Nico said evenly.

  For a moment Carrie was surprised that Nico was troubling to protect her, but then she realised he was protecting his flawless reputation. Nico was used to sailing above the trivial embarrassments that afflicted the rest of mankind, and she guessed finding himself on the back foot was something new for him.

  ‘Is there a problem, Nico?’ Anastasia pressed. ‘They told me you had been detained.’ She gave a pretty pout. ‘But they also promised me that you would be joining us for coffee…Is this girl bothering you?’ Craning her elegant neck, she stared down her perfect ski-slope nose at Carrie.

  Nico stood to one side, leaving the two women in full sight of each other. ‘Carrie Evans used to work for me.’

  ‘I see…’ Finely plucked eyebrows soared at an acute angle as the princess evaluated her opponent.

  ‘Carrie’s in Niroli on holiday, aren’t you, Carrie?’

  Nico was prompting her? Carrie chose to remain silent.

  ‘Carrie, may I present Princess Anastasia….’

  As Nico introduced her to the princess she stood stiffly, hoping Anastasia didn’t expect her to curtsy; the princess’s haughty gaze had instantly labelled her an inferior.

  ‘Why, Anastasia…nothing to say?’ Nico pressed. ‘Is there a reason Ms Evans shouldn’t visit the palace while she’s holidaying in Niroli?’ His voice was like a velvet threat, and as he spoke a quiver of response ran across Carrie’s shoulders.

  ‘No reason at all,’ Princess Anastasia said quickly, opening her eyes very wide to signal her absolute agreement with anything Nico chose to say about the matter.

 

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