“Well?” Her tone had turned to waspish disdain.
Frustration roiled in him. This woman should be begging for forgiveness for her lies. She should be wanly excusing her mistake. She should be asking for his help.
The urge to crush was overwhelming.
“You know why I called you in here,” he said. “You lied to me.”
The Princesse simply glared her hate.
The anger turned to fury. “You lied to me again.”
“It was for the best.”
He shot out of his chair. “The child is mine.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.”
She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “You were merely the sperm donor.”
Could he hate this woman any harder or deeper? Lust was nothing compared to the rage running through his veins. Vico forced himself to pace away from her to the windows. He was very sure if he found himself within a foot of her, he’d have his hands around her neck.
London’s blue sky blazed down on the streets. The warmth didn’t penetrate the cold, stony silence inside his office. Breathing through his nostrils, he finally captured his temper and remembered his commitment. To his child.
“I am the father.” He swiveled around to face her. Forced himself to say the words that sealed their fate. Their miserable fate. “We will marry.”
A gasp escaped her.
She couldn’t be surprised at his proposal, could she? Neither of them was important now. Only the child. Leaning against the window, he folded his arms on his chest. His hands shook.
“You have got to be kidding.”
The exact same words when he took over her company. Now, he would take over her life and his child’s.
“Princesse,” he responded in exactly the same way. “The time for kidding has long since passed.”
A flush of red rose in her cheeks, showing she also remembered. The color was a stark contrast to the white of the rest of her skin. “I hate you,” she snapped.
He sensed the energy between them. The wretched, ugly connection that had drawn them disastrously to this awful point. “I hate you too.”
The tension filled the room. A wall of anger and fear and distrust.
And lust.
“But we will marry,” he stated. “We will definitely marry.”
* * *
I hate you too.
Why did his words hurt? Why did it feel as if they sliced right through her?
Lise’s nails cut into the skin of her palm. The pain seemed appropriate somehow, as if it could overwhelm and envelop the pain his statement caused.
He watched her, those cat eyes waiting for her next move. So he could make the final kill, no doubt. The weariness and lethargy she carried around with her day after day called at her to give up, to give in. Yet her baby’s fate hung in the balance. Also, her own.
“I can’t believe you mean this seriously.” She forced herself to lower her voice, speak in a calm tone instead of screaming like a crazed maniac. “You don’t want to marry. It would ruin your lifestyle.”
“You know me so well.” The lilt of his accent gave the words a mocking tinge.
She looked at him, but couldn’t detect an iota of amusement in his eyes or his face. But the man was joking about marriage. Surely. “You’re pulling my chain, aren’t you?”
“Pulling your chain?” His frown showed his confusion and she was reminded suddenly of his foreignness, how different he was in so many ways from her reality and experience.
He ran a hand through his long, dark curls, as if he wanted to sweep this entire situation behind him. Why didn’t he do just that and walk away? His stubborn demand to be a part of this was incomprehensible to her. “What I mean is you are only playing tricks with me and mocking me with this absurd proposal.”
“Tricks?” The tiger eyes flashed over to meet her gaze.
What was in them? A swift flicker of shame?
“I can assure you,” he said. “This is no trick and certainly no treat for me.”
“For me either.” She banked her embarrassment at his barb. “So let’s agree this was a crazy idea. I’ll never marry you. The thought is absurd.”
His eyes narrowed and flamed, the gold searing her, the green cutting her. “Absurd it might be. Nevertheless, it will happen.”
“I would be miserable. You would be miserable.”
“Si.” He still leaned against the window, his body screaming tension although his pose was distant and aloof. “It makes no difference, however. We did the deed and now must pay the price.”
“I had nothing to do with the deed as you put it.” She couldn’t help the dig. “So I will not pay the price.”
“Do not try that again.” He waved her words away with a dismissive motion. “You know perfectly well you were the one who initiated the sex.”