The Consequences of That Night (At His Service #6)(41)

“I admit nothing. You are the one who said we shouldn’t ask each other questions!”

“About the past, not the present!”

“That’s fine for you, because as you well know, you are my only past, while your past could fill every bedroom in this mansion. And probably has!”

Her voice caught, and for the first time he heard the ragged edge of repressed tears. He frowned down at her. When he spoke again, his voice was low, barely audible over the music. “What’s wrong?”

“Other than you accusing me of flirting, while I torture myself with questions every time I meet one of your beautiful guests—wondering which ones you’ve slept with in the past? And suspecting—all of them!”

Her voice broke. Her green eyes were luminous with unshed tears. He glanced around uneasily at the women around them. Emma was right. He’d slept with more than one of them. No wonder she was upset. He’d nearly exploded with irrational jealousy, just seeing Leonidas talking to her.

Pulling her tighter in his arms, he swayed them to the music, continuing to dance as he spoke to her in a low voice.

“They were one-night stands, Emma. Meaningless.”

“You called our first night together meaningless, too. The night we conceived our baby.”

He flinched. Then emotion surged through him. He glared at her.

“This is why I wanted our marriage to be in name only. To avoid these arguments and stupid jealousies.”

“You mean the way you practically hit your good friend in the face for the crime of dancing with me and making me laugh?”

For a moment, he scowled at her. Then, getting hold of himself, he took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I never meant...to make you cry.”

Emma looked away, blinking fast. “That’s not why I was crying.”

“What is it, then?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

She swallowed.

“They all think I’m a sly gold digger. All your friends.” She wiped her eyes. “A few women actually congratulated me on tricking you into marriage. Some of them could hardly believe a woman as—well, fat—as me could do it. Others just wanted tips for how to trick billionaire husbands of their own. They wanted to know if I poked holes in the condom wrapper with a needle or what.”

Cesare’s hands tightened on her back. He stared down at her, vibrating with rage as they swayed to the music. “I will take a horsewhip to all of them.”

She gave a small laugh, even as tears spilled down her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly, but he could feel how much that wasn’t true. To her, the simple question of honor and a good name did matter. Her pride had been hurt.

He fiercely wiped a tear off her cheek with her thumb. “You and I, we know the truth.”

“Yes. We do. But I still wish,” she whispered, “we were a million miles from here.”

“From London?”

“As long as we’re in London, I’ll always be your gold-digging housekeeper. And you’ll be the playboy who’s slept with every woman in the city.” She looked up at him with tearful eyes. “I wish we could just go. Move away. Somewhere I’ll never have to wonder, every time I see another woman, if she’s ever been in your bed.” She shuddered. “I hate what my imagination is doing to me—”

“Since the first night we slept together, I haven’t touched another woman.”

Her lips parted. “What?”

Cesare was almost as surprised as she was that he’d said it. But damn it—how could he not tell her? He couldn’t see her pain and do nothing. “It’s true.”

“But—why?”

He stopped on the dance floor.

“I haven’t wanted to,” he said quietly.

“I don’t understand.” Emma shook her head. “If that’s the case, why would you say you wanted a marriage in name only?”

Reaching out, he brushed back some dark hair from the soft skin of her bare shoulder above her gown. “Because all my love affairs have ended badly.”

She swallowed. “Mine, too.”

“Our marriage is too important. I cannot let it end in fights and tears and recriminations. The only way to make sure our relationship never ends...is never to start it in the first place.”

“It won’t work. Listen to us! We’re still fighting anyway.”

“Not like we would if—” He cut himself off, then shook his head. “You know lovers are a dime a dozen to me. But you... You are special.” Reaching up, he stroked her cheek. “I need you as a partner. As my friend.” He set his jaw. “Sex would ruin everything. It always does.”

Swallowing, she exhaled, looking away.

“All right,” she said finally. “Friends.” There was a shadow of worry behind her eyes as they lifted to his. “You really haven’t slept with any other women?” she said in wonder. “Since the night we conceived Sam?”

He gave her an unsteady grin. “Don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” She smiled up at him, even as her eyes still shone with tears. “And you might as well know—your friend Leonidas is a very clumsy dancer. That’s why I was laughing at his dumb jokes. To try to disguise yelps of pain every time he stomped on my foot.”