Raffaele.
He tightened his hold on her hand and guided her through the main saloon into the corridor that broke off into multiple master suites. Led her towards his suite. His room. His bed.
What was this woman doing to his control?
He’d enjoyed being anonymous. He’d enjoyed her casual approach to his wealth. To him.
Because you are weak around her and she sees what you are. A lonely boy with a dream of getting out.
Had he ever really got out?
The fingers entwined in his flexed. He looked down at the small hand. The elegant fingertips pressing against his knuckles.
She didn’t care, did she? About the wealth? She’d asked him to take her to his bed, make love to her, without even knowing his name. She’d followed him across the sea. And only when his yacht had been thrust in her face had she considered that he might be part of a world she wasn’t.
He hardened. Every part of him throbbed with an absurd need to be inside her. To drown in her dismissal of his name and his wealth. Because all that had mattered the night she’d met him was what he was feeling right now.
An intoxicating need to be with her.
And he didn’t understand it. Thisneed. He didn’t understandher. She’d cared about thestory. The one he’d told no one. Her decision to get on his boat had come because of a story of weakness. Ofhimbeing weak.
He didn’t even know why he’d told her.
Lies.
He knew. He’d wanted to make the innocent wonder in her eyes every time she looked at him vanish. To stop this hold she had over him. To stop this lack of control he felt near her.
But it hadn’t stopped. It had intensified.
If you told her about your mother...how you failed—
He blocked the intrusive thoughts and focused on his next step. Their destination. Their fate.
He’d figure her out later. But first things first...
He pushed open the door to his suite and pulled her over the threshold without pause or hesitation. He was ready to confirm what he somehow already knew without rhyme or reason. Shewaspregnant. And in a few minutes he’d be bound to her for ever.
He wouldn’t fail his own again.
That was his promise.
His vow.
He wouldn’t look away this time.
CHAPTER SIX
RAFFAELEHADN’TSAIDa word.
Every inch of his body was relaxed as he lounged on the cream leather high-back chair as if it were histhrone, one leg lazily over the other, his arms languid. Hands that didn’t tremble rested on the tips of the arms as the pregnancy test sat on the table between them.
Flora was not relaxed.
But his eyes kept her rooted. Perched on the end of the cream leather sofa, knees together, fingers steepled.Waiting.
He watched her, and she watched the pregnancy test.
Flora cleared her throat. It was too tight. Too dry.
