The Italian's Future Bride(16)

Taut muscles stretched as he pulled himself in like a man trying to  field his own hard knock. 'I presume from your response that it is a  problem.'                       
       
           



       



'I've told you once-I don't sleep around!' she cried out.



A nerve flicked at the corner of his hard mouth. 'You don't need to sleep around to take oral contraception.'



'Well, thank you for that reassuring piece of information,' she said  hotly. 'But, in my case, and becauseI don't sleep around , I-don't take  oral contraception either … 'The heat in her voice trailed into a stifled  choke.



He cursed.



Rachel covered her face with her hands.



She had just indulged in uninhibited sex with a stranger without any  protection; now his millions of sperm were chasing through her body in a  race towards their ultimate goal!



Fertilisation. A baby-dear God …



Suddenly she was diving out of the bed and heading at a run for the  bathroom. She thought she was going to be sick but then found that she  couldn't. She wanted to wash herself clean inside and out!



Instead she just stood there with her arms wrapped around her middle and shook.



She heard him arrive in the door opening. 'I h-hate you,' she whispered. 'I wish I'd never heard your stupid name.'



Raffaelle shifted his tense stance, relaxing it wearily so he was  leaning against the doorframe. He wanted to echo her sentiments but he  did not think she was up to hearing him say it while she stood there  resembling a skittish pale ghost.



'It happened,cara . Too late now to trade insults,' he murmured flatly instead.



She swung round to stare at him, blue eyes bright with anger and the  close threat of tears. 'You think that kind of remark helps the  situation?'



Pushing his hands into his trouser pockets, Raffaelle raised a black  silk eyebrow. 'You think that your previous remark helped it?'



No, she supposed that it didn't.



Losing the will to stand upright any longer she sank down on to the closed toilet seat. 'I'm so horrified by what we've done.'



'I can see that.'



'I don't w-want a baby,' she whispered starkly.



'Any man's or just mine?'



Rachel looked at the way he was standing there in the  doorway-loungingthere half-undressed. A tall, lean, tightly  muscledsupremo , the image of everything you would want to grab from the  human male gene pool.



Feeling something disturbingly elemental shift in her womb, she went on the attack. 'Being flippant about it doesn't help.'



'Neither does flaying yourself.'



She stared at him. 'Where the heck are you actually coming from?' she  gasped out. 'You don't know me, yet you stand there looking as if you  couldn't care less about what we've done!'



'I am a fatalist.'



'Lucky you,' Rachael muttered, pushing her hair back from her brow. 'Whereas I am wishing that yesterday never began.'



'Too late to wish on rainbows,cara .'



'Now you are just annoying.'



'I apologise,' he drawled. 'However, since we could well be in this for  the long haul, I suggest you get used to my-annoying ways.'



'Long haul-?'Her chin shot up. What was he talking about now?



'Marriage comes before babies in my family,' he enlightened.



Marriage-? 'Oh, for goodness' sake.' It made her feel sick to her  stomach to say it, but-'I'll take one of those m-morning after pills  that-'



'No, you will not,' he cut in.



She stood up. 'That is not your decision.'



His silver eyes speared her. 'So you are happy to see off a fragile life before it has been given the chance to exist?'



'God, no.' She even shuddered. 'But I think it would be-'



'Well, don't think,' he said coldly. 'We will not add to our sins if you  please. This is our fault not the fault, of the innocent child which  may result. Therefore we will deal with it the honourable way-if or when  it comes to it.'



'With marriage,' she mocked.



'You must know I am considered to be quite a good catch,cara .'



Softly said, smooth as silk. A sharp silence followed while Rachel took  on board what he was actually implying. Then she heaved in a taut  breath. 'I suppose I should have expected that one,' she said as she  breathed out again.



'I don't follow.' He frowned.



'The-you set me up for this accusation.' She spelled it out for him.  'The-you got me into bed deliberately so you could position yourself as  the great millionaire catch!'                       
       
           



       



'I did not say that.' He sighed impatiently.



Oh, yes, he damn did! Inside she was quivering. Inside she was feeling as if she'd stepped into an ice cold alien place.



'I'll take the other option,' she retaliated and went to push past him.  The hand snaking out of his pocket grabbed her by the arm as the other  hand arrived, holding a mobile telephone.



'Let go of me.'



He ignored her and there was nothing relaxed about him now, Rachel saw as he hit quick-dial, then put the phone to his ear.



'Are we still under siege from the press?' he demanded.



He had to be talking to the security man in the foyer, Rachel realised. A  new kind of tension sizzled all around them while he listened to the  answer and she waited to find out where he was going with this.



The hard line of his mouth gave a twist as he cut the connection.  Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he speared her with a hard look.



'The paparazzi is still out there,' he stated grimly. 'I do not expect  them to leave us alone any time in the near future-understand?'



Rachel just stared at him, all eyes and weighty heart and pummelled feelings.



'Wherever you or I go from now on, I can almost guarantee that they mean  to follow.' He made his point brutally clear. 'So think about it,cara  ,' he urged grimly. 'Do you want to take a walk out to the local  all-night pharmacy and turn this thing into a tabloid sensation as the  pack follow to witness you purchasing your morning-after medication-?'



Ice froze the silence between them as diamond eyes locked challengingly  with frosted blue. Rachel thought about screaming. She felt like  screaming! He really, truly and honestly believed that she was ruthless  enough to calmly take something to rectify the wrong they had done, his  wonderfulfatalist attitude giving him the right to believe that his  morals were superior to her own.



And why not? she asked herself starkly. What did he really know about  her as a living, breathing person? Hadn't she flipped out the clever  counter attack to his marriage deal? Wasn't she the cool liar and cheat  around here, who could hit on a man and let him take her to his bed for  no other reason than she'd fancied him?



Why not tag her as a woman who was also capable of seeing off a baby before she was even sure that there was one?



Hurt trammelled through her body, though, melting the ice and turning it  into tears because she could not deny him the right to see her as a  cold, ruthless schemer-she'd painted her own portrait for him to look  at, after all.



He saw the tears and frowned. 'Rachel-' he murmured huskily.



She pushed his hand off her arm and walked away, only to pull to a hovering halt in the middle of the bedroom.



Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide, she realised as her tears grew and  grew. In the end she did the only thing she could see open to her right  now and climbed back into the bed and disappeared beneath the duvet  again.



Heart thumping, eyes burning, she pressed a clenched fist against her  mouth to stop the choking sobs she could feel working their way up from  her throat.



She heard him move. The lights went off. A door closed quietly. He had  the grace to leave her alone with her misery and at last she let the  first sob escape-only to jerk and twist her head on the pillow just in  time to see him lift up the duvet and the warm dark shape of his now  fully naked body slide into the bed.



Her quivering gasp was lost in the arm he used to draw her against him.  Eyes like diamonds wrapped in rich black velvet searched her face, then a  grimace touched his mouth.



'You're crying,' he said huskily.



'No, I'm not.' Squeezing a hand up between them, she went to brush a stray tear from the corner of her eye.



Or she would have done if one of his fingers had not got there before  hers took the tear away; she could not hold back another small sniff.



'I would not have done it,' she mumbled.



'Si, I know that.' He sighed. 'We were fighting. You used your weapon  well. I retaliated by cutting you to pieces. I apologise for doing it.'



'You're so ruthless it's scary.'



'Si.' On another sigh he sent one of his legs looping over her legs to  draw her in a bit closer to him, then he caught her hand and pressed it  to his chest.



She felt his warmth and his muscled firmness and the prickle of hair  against her palm. It was all very intimate and very dangerous-especially  so when she didn't try to pull away. The shirt formed a sort of barrier  to stop the more frightening skin to skin contact, but-