‘No!’
The word was like a lash-stroke across the exposed flesh of Lottie’s desire.
‘That is not what this is about.’
Standing alone, rejected and exposed, Lottie could only stare at him, watching with wide-eyed confusion as he strode over to the fireplace, kicking a stray log back into the hearth with a shower of sparks.
‘I think we need to lay down some ground rules.’ He barked the words over his shoulder at her. ‘I don’t want you getting the wrong idea.’
The wrong idea.
Lottie pulled her gaze from the rigid tension of his back to the empty space where he had stood. Her body was still twitching with desire, her legs trembling beneath her. But his words had shrivelled her heart. We wouldn’t want Lottie getting the wrong idea, would we? As if he might actually have any feelings for her.
Pushing the hair away from her face, she straightened her dress and cleared her throat. She needed to take control now—convince him that she wasn’t bothered, that he was overreacting.
‘That’s okay.’ She attempted a throwaway laugh. ‘It was nothing. There’s no need to get all heavy about it.’
Rafael spun round and gave her a look that bordered on hatred. Swallowing back the bile, he planted his feet firmly apart, glaring at her. ‘Si, certo. Nothing.’
Lottie bit down on her trembling lip. Well, what did he want her to say, for God’s sake? She was trying to make this better. The shameless way she had wanted him, the humiliation of being abandoned, the look of pure disgust on Rafael’s face now—all conspired to make her feel suitably wretched. Now she had to put up some form of defence.
‘What I mean is I am fully aware of the situation.’ Her voice was surprisingly cold, clear. ‘I have agreed to try for this baby with you, Rafael, not to resurrect our marriage.’
Rafael swung round to face her, thunder in his eyes. ‘As long as we both know where we stand.’
‘I’m sure we do. You have made your feelings towards me perfectly clear.’
‘And yours towards me.’
‘Yes.’
Lottie flinched. Her big black lie. Impossible to remove now. It was stitched into the fabric of Rafael’s being. It was there in every twitch of his muscles, every hitch of his shoulders, every coal-black stare of his eyes.
With a couple of strides he was before her again, glowering down on her defensive body. Lottie faced the wall of his hostility, watching him struggle to control his breathing, his temper, his dislike of her. Struggling with all the things he would not say.
Finally he stepped back, his eyes refusing to leave her face.
‘Then I am glad there is no confusion.’
* * *
Rafael drained his brandy glass and banged it down on the coffee table in front of him, the emotional roller coaster ride of the evening still wreaking havoc on his body. He ran a hand over his forehead, the ridge of his scar a timely reminder of the accident that had started all this.
He should have been feeling elated. If nothing else he had managed to persuade Lottie to agree to using their frozen embryo. Now he needed to get things moving before she changed her mind—or, worse still, went back to England, met someone else, forgot all about him. He had been fortunate, he had to concede, that that hadn’t already happened. That she hadn’t already taken up with some uncomplicated young man and started living a happily-ever-after that certainly didn’t include him. But his investigations had revealed nothing apart from that slimeball of a boss at the gallery where she worked.
He flexed his fingers. There was a guy asking for a punch on the nose if ever there was one. But even if she was unattached now he had had no way of telling for how long. He’d had to act fast.
But not in the way he just had. Dio... His hand came down over his eyes. What the hell had he been thinking of, pressing himself up against her like a horny teenager? Displaying, oh, so physically, just how easily she could still turn him on? Because she did, didn’t she? Every little maledetto thing about her sent his logical brain into a tailspin south. And to the trouble that was waiting for him there.
Though it hadn’t just been him. The memory of the way Lottie had responded still pulsed through his veins. Had that been deliberate? A test to see what it would take to make him react? If so, he had shown himself to be the weakest of creatures. She had eventually swept from the room, seemingly not able to get away from him fast enough, presumably gloating with the satisfaction that she could turn him on just like that, just the way she always had.
Well, enough. Getting up from the sofa, he stretched back his shoulders, circling them up and around to ease the stiffness, almost enjoying the physical pain that shot down one side of his body. He had to resist, be strong. Moving over to the fireplace, he caught sight of his battered reflection in the enormous gilt mirror, demonstrating yet again the mess he had made of his life. He looked away quickly, only to be confronted by the carved marble cherubs on either side of him, mocking him with their adoring faces.