An Inheritance of Shame(30)

‘It is obvious that I’ve offended you somehow with my suggestion,’ Angelo stated tersely as he headed down the drive. She didn’t answer, and he smacked the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. ‘At least talk to me, Lucia.’

‘I don’t think I have anything to say that you’d want to hear.’

That didn’t sound good. Angelo blew out a breath. ‘I want to hear what you’re thinking.’

‘Do you really, Angelo? Or will that just make you angrier, because I’m not falling into line with your plans? I’m not falling into your bed.’

‘You fell into my bed last night,’ he snapped, and then could have cursed himself. Not a helpful observation to make at this point.

Lucia kept her face to the window. ‘I did,’ she said quietly, ‘and I don’t regret it. But that’s all I ever intended last night to be. One night, just as before. I’m not going to be your—your long-term booty call.’

‘That is offensive.’

‘No kidding.’

His fingers clenched the steering wheel so hard his knuckles whitened. ‘You told me that a one-night stand was not something you’d be willing to repeat.’

‘I changed my mind.’

‘And I changed my mind,’ he answered back. ‘So you see, we both can change.’

‘You think you can change?’ She turned to him, eyebrows raised, her tone utterly disbelieving. ‘You think, with this suggestion, you have changed?’

He forced back the instinctive anger at her incredulous, almost sneering tone. ‘You obviously don’t think I have,’ he said levelly.

She shook her head, folded her arms, the stance clearly one of rejection. ‘One night, one week, one month. There’s not much difference, Angelo.’

He pressed his lips together and stared straight ahead. All right, he saw her point, but hell, this was new territory for him. He didn’t do relationships. He didn’t have girlfriends or even mistresses. His entire life he’d been focused on work, driven by success and revenge. He had no time for the messy sprawl of romance or, God forbid, love. Sex had always been a transaction—

And, he realised, he was proposing such a transaction to Lucia now. He’d dressed it up a bit, yes, but essentially it was a business deal. A bargain.

But he didn’t do anything else. This was all he had to offer, and damn it, he wanted her to accept it. It wasn’t, he thought grimly, such a bad deal.

He glanced at her now, saw she’d turned back to the window. All he could see was the smooth, round curve of her cheek, her plaited hair revealing the vulnerable nape of her neck.

He let out a weary breath. ‘Why put a time limit on it, Lucia?’ he said, and although she didn’t turn from the window he saw her mouth curve in the barest of sad smiles.

‘You already did.’

‘I did not.’ He shook his head, denying the judgement he felt from her. What would make her see sense? ‘We didn’t use protection last night,’ he said after a moment. It hadn’t even occurred to him, much to his own shame. ‘What if you’re pregnant?’

He saw her tense, felt it. ‘I don’t think that’s a possibility.’

‘You’re on birth control?’ Absurd to feel jealous if she was, yet he did. Had she had many other lovers?

‘No,’ Lucia said after a moment. ‘But I—I don’t think it’s likely.’

‘And if it is?’

She turned to him, her expression utterly unreadable. ‘You think a pregnancy would force my hand? Make me agree to your…suggestion?’

‘It’s not such a bad suggestion, Lucia.’

‘I think it is.’

‘What do you want? Marriage?’ He injected the word with the contempt he couldn’t help but feel, and he saw hurt flash across her face. Damn it.

‘And if I did?’ she asked quietly.

‘I’m not capable of that. I thought—I thought you knew that.’

Her mouth twisted in something like a smile. ‘You speak as though it’s a chronic condition.’

‘I can’t help who I am, Lucia.’

‘Exactly.’

Frustration bubbled inside him, an unholy ferment of emotion. She was twisting everything he said, taking it completely the wrong way. ‘So that’s it? You’re not even going to give us a chance?’