A Champagne Christmas: The Christmas Love-Child / The Christmas Night Miracle / The Italian Billionaire's Christmas Miracle. Catherine SpencerЧитать онлайн книгу.
lie,” he ground out. He looked at her, and his eyes glittered. “I hated lying to you. But I made the choice, Grace. I chose you.”
He stroked her cheek, looking down at her with emotion. She closed her eyes, her heart pounding at his touch.
“Come with me to Moscow,” he whispered. “I want you with me. As my secretary, as my mistress, whatever you—”
Her eyes flew open. “Your…secretary?”
She ripped away from him. After everything they’d been through together—the romance that had consumed her so utterly that she’d fallen in love with him and was about to have his child—that was still how he saw her. As a secretary?
And now that he’d won the merger with Exemplary Oil, he wasn’t even trying to hide it. He was no longer even vaguely trying to pretend that he cared for her.
“You mean because I’ve helped you steal a billion-dollar deal from my last boss,” she said scornfully, “you’ll kindly allow me to type your letters and make your coffee in Moscow? Except you’ll want different fringe benefits than Alan, I suppose. I assume I’m to spend my evenings and weekends earning my wages on my back?”
His dark brows lowered furiously as he grabbed her shoulders. “You know that’s not how it is—”
“You want to hide me away in Moscow, so you can enjoy Francesca in London!” The images she’d seen of Francesca with him outside the hotel went through her. “Marrying her is part of your deal, right?”
“Damn you!” he shouted. “I don’t want her! I want—”
“I saw you with her yesterday!” she shouted back. He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “What?”
Tears filled her eyes. She wiped them fiercely. “After I was fired, I went to your hotel. Stupid me, I actually had faith in all the lies you’d told me.”
“They weren’t lies, not all of them—”
“Oh, yes, I always get things wrong, don’t I?” She could barely speak over the lump in her throat. “Because I’m just a silly little secretary. That’s all I’ve ever been to you.”
“You little fool,” he ground out. “You know that’s not true—”
“Stop trying to have it both ways!” she shouted. “You never cared for me, you just took my virginity, you seduced me, you got me—” Pregnant with your child, she almost blurted out, but she stopped herself just in time. Humiliation gnawed at her, causing her cheeks to go hot.
She didn’t want to tell him about the baby. Ever.
She just wanted him out of their lives for good.
“I did you a favor to get you away from Barrington,” he ground out. “You were letting him walk all over you!”
He’d felt sorry for her?
“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much,” she said. Waves of acute misery continued to build inside her, making her feel more ill by the minute. “I wish to God I’d never let you touch me!”
Gut-wrenching nausea waved over her. Covering her mouth, she ran to the bathroom, stumbling on the floor to retch over the toilet just in time.
She heard him come in behind her. His voice was suddenly gentle as he said, “But Grace, you’re ill.”
“It’s nothing—the flu—just go!” She wiped her mouth, looking back at him with eyes of fury. “I hate you!”
“Grace—”
“Just go! You liar, you back-stabbing bastard!” She grabbed a bar of soap and threw it at him. He ducked it easily, enraging her still more.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“If I’m sick,” she bit out, “it’s because looking at your face makes me want to puke! My skin crawls when I think of how I let you touch me.” She looked at him with eyes of ice. “You’re not a prince—you’re not even a man.”
She’d finally pushed him too far.
He stiffened behind her.
“Fine.” His lip curled. “Now that I know your true opinion of me, I won’t fight to keep you. I see now there is nothing for me here…”
Turning to go, he stopped.
Bending over the carpet, he picked up something that had fallen to the floor and rolled across the carpet.
The pregnancy test had fallen from the hole in her pocket!
She gasped, rising quickly to her feet. “It’s not what you think. It’s nothing…an old test…a friend’s…left here,” she stammered helplessly.
“You’re pregnant.” He looked at her. “You’re pregnant?”
She stared at him. She wanted to deny it, but the lie stuck in her throat.
“Am I the father?”
She gasped at the insult.
“You know you are! Although I wish to God you weren’t. I wish any other man on earth was the father but you!”
His eyes focused on her coldly. “And I realize now everything I ever thought about you was wrong. I thought you were special. You’re not. You’re selfish and deceitful. Jealous and controlling.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “More than your precious Francesca?”
“Francesca and I broke up because she tried to push me into marrying her. You did something far worse. You were going to let me walk right out that door, weren’t you? You were going to keep my child a secret. You intended to sacrifice our child’s need for a father, and live in poverty without even a home, all for the sake of your own selfish pride!”
He knew the house was in foreclosure? She gasped, feeling as if he’d exposed her vulnerable jugular.
“How did you know?” she whispered.
“I told you. I protect what is mine. That means my child. That means his family.” His lip curled. “And whether I wish it or not, that means my child’s mother.” His eyes were cold as he looked down at her. “You will be my wife.”
His…wife?
She sucked in her breath.
His duty bride, the ignored spouse he would leave trapped in a lonely Muscovite palace while he continued to pursue the wickedly lovely Francesca in London?
“No,” she whispered desperately. She looked around the sunlit cottage. She desperately wanted her family to keep their home. Then she thought of the tiny life in her womb who needed to be protected. Better to remain in poverty in the warm sunshine of California, near family who loved her, than risk either of them anywhere near Maksim’s icy Siberia of a heart!
She shook her head hard. “How many times do I have to say it? I don’t want your money!”
“But now you will take it.” His voice was low, dangerous. His gray eyes glittered at her as he added maliciously, “As you will take my name. Today.”
“No! I won’t!”
He grabbed her painfully by the shoulders. “Apparently, I haven’t made myself clear. You have no choice.”
She was suddenly afraid of him, this dangerous man who seemed to control his anger with such icy reserve.
“Your wife in name only?” she whispered.
He gave a hard laugh. “And now you think to trick your way out of my bed? No. You will be my wife in every way. You will sleep naked in my bed and service me at my will.”
It was the final stab to her heart. He’d already made it plain he cared nothing for her. He expected her to surrender her body to his possession, without