The Royal House of Niroli: Innocent Mistresses: Expecting His Royal Baby / The Prince's Forbidden Virgin. Robyn DonaldЧитать онлайн книгу.
the scene where she told him about their baby over and over again in her head, preparing for rejection. She had even drafted the accusations for him: she should have been more responsible; she should have taken precautions; she should have been on the pill at the very least. Condoms? Condoms took a degree of forward thinking and there had been no time for that….
Freeing her seat belt and standing up, Carrie eased her way into the packed aisle. As she waited for the line to move forward a woman in front of her turned and said, ‘Perfect, isn’t it?’
Nico had said she was perfect….
No one had a door into her thoughts, Carrie told herself firmly. The woman was only making a comment about the sun-drenched landscape as they waited to disembark. ‘Yes, perfect,’ she agreed pleasantly, trying to blank the precise moment Nico had said that to her. But it was too late. She was already remembering Nico releasing the clasp on his jeans, lowering the zipper and freeing himself. Helping her to lift her legs and lock them around his waist, he’d leaned over her, pressed her knees back and said, ‘Perfect …’
Her cheeks were on fire as she forced her thoughts back onto a practical track. It was important to keep her wits about her. She had nowhere to stay and very little money … So she would just have to take it one step at a time, Carrie reasoned calmly. First, she would find a bed for the night and then she would find Nico.
Doubt hit her again as she stepped onto the tarmac. As she looked around and inhaled the warm, spicy air she could tell that Niroli was even more glamorous and exclusive than she had thought. Even the airport officials were elegant. She felt pallid and shabby by comparison, just as she had on the night of the party….
Staring at her face in the bathroom mirror after they’d made love she had compared herself to the other women at the party and known she was plain. Her glorious hair was a bad joke that had landed on the wrong head. Just like one of the paper dolls she had played with as a child she was all jumbled up—the wrong eyes in the wrong face on the wrong body. It wasn’t possible that Nico would want her for herself. Nico had wanted sex, and that was all. She had lost her virginity to a man who treated sex like a fast-food meal and used her like a disposable container.
And she was totally innocent of course, Carrie thought dryly, glancing up as she tried to orientate herself and search for some signs to Baggage Reclaim. She had encouraged Nico with everything she’d had, and, unsurprisingly, he had given in without a fight. The moment he had cupped her buttocks in his work-roughened hands was something she would never forget. She had rubbed herself against him, loving the sensation and knowing that for all his power in the boardroom Nico was a man who used physical strength as well as brainpower on-site. One of his greatest pleasures, he had confessed during a meeting where she had been taking notes, was to see his designs rise from the paper and take three-dimensional shape. He liked to see, touch, feel and suck everything he could out of each new experience.
She had always believed this thoroughness accounted for his success; she knew it made him a fantastic lover. She had been frantic by the time he had moved lightly back and forth and, when he had allowed the tip to catch inside her, it had shot the breath from her lungs like a punch. But he had pulled back before she’d had chance to close around him, by which time her body had been liquid fire. Working her nails cruelly into his bunched-up muscles, she had begged him, ‘Nico, please …’
‘Please, what?’
‘You know what I want….’
‘Do I?’ He had seemed amused, and she’d gone way too far to pull back.
Face it, Carrie, you didn’t want to pull back.
Carrie tried not to smile as she heaved her suitcase off the carousel, but it wasn’t easy when she remembered the next time she had bucked towards him Nico had taken her deep.
Thinking about Nico was one way to get through the tedium of airport formalities, Carrie reflected, responding to a prompt to move forward in the queue. Handing over her passport, she smiled thinly in response to the immigration official’s well-mannered scrutiny. Her mood had flattened, tiredness, maybe, or perhaps she had just reached the point in her reminiscences where it had all gone wrong. It had happened when Nico had said he loved her, because what he had actually said was, ‘I love my mouse.’ By reducing her to a cartoon image, Carrie guessed, Nico found it easier to brush her off. He didn’t love Carrie Evans, he loved the compliant mouse she had allowed him to think her.
Carrie’s mood had deteriorated to the point where she was scanning the departure board for flights home by the time she’d walked across the concourse, but the moment she walked outside she changed her mind. Her artist’s eye was immediately drawn to the richness and variety of the colours all around her. Fuchsia-tinted bougainvillea tumbled down yellow-sandstone walls and there was an imposing water feature in front of the terminal building throwing cascades of glittering spray into the air. Then she remembered Nico had designed the building and came back to earth with a bump.
What would he say when she told him about the baby?
What could he say?
Whatever happened she would never think of her baby as a mistake. Loving Nico was the only mistake she had made. Picking up her case, Carrie walked briskly towards the taxi rank.
The taxi driver, clearly proud of his beautiful island home, gave her a running commentary as he drove towards the old city of Niroli. The island had a colourful history, filled with ancient rivalries, rebels and kings. She learned that Nico’s family’s fortune had been founded on ancient trading routes, thanks to the island’s tactically advantageous position to the south of Sicily.
Gradually Carrie found herself relaxing. The sky was so blue, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight and everywhere she looked there was something new and interesting to see … ruined castles, vineyards, orange groves and fields and, leaning forward, she could see mountains capped with snow….
Niroli was beautiful, and it was easy for her to understand the elderly taxi driver’s pride in his homeland. The only problem was his old taxi lacked air-conditioning and she was still wearing her heavy London suit. It was too late to wish she had been less impetuous and had thought to bring more clothes. When had she ever found calm reason possible where Nico was concerned?
Certainly not the morning after the party, Carrie thought as the taxi driver fell silent. She had taken such care with her appearance, knowing she was going to see Nico again. From her small stock of clothes she had chosen the best of her sombre suits and a sensible top. She hadn’t wanted to look like a tease. She had felt shy and embarrassed, remembering her wantonness, her brazen pleading….
She had known it wasn’t going to be easy to face him again, and the last thing she’d wanted was to give Nico the wrong idea. She had known the party was over.
But even so, deep inside she had harboured a kernel of hope … She had brushed her hair until it had gleamed, and had toyed with the idea of leaving it down, but as long hair was impractical in the office she had drawn it back before applying a touch of lipstick. She wasn’t good at makeup, but she had made a special effort that day.
Her pulse had been off the scale, her body humming with awareness when she’d spotted Nico. He had been coming out of a breakfast meeting and she’d had to wait on tenterhooks for him to finish talking to a colleague. But then he’d walked past her….
‘Good morning, Nico …’
She had to call again before he turned. And then his face had lit up, making her heart thunder.
‘Oh, good, you’re here.’ He’d squeezed her arm and looked down into her eyes, all charm, all warmth … and well-honed professional courtesy. ‘Scan these documents and get them back to me ASAP, will you, Carrie? We’ve got a rush on—’ He’d pushed some papers into her hands, hands that had been holding him in the most intimate way only hours before. ‘And could you bring some coffee to the boardroom?’
Sure of her answer, sure of her, he hadn’t even bothered to turn around.
The boardroom had looked the same way