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Di CESARE PREGNANT MISTRESS - Chapter 38
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Even now the memory of the explosive passion they had shared that night made her blush. Their loving had been as wild and elemental as the lightning that had ripped the sky apart, and in a strange way it seemed fitting that their child had been conceived at the apex of a thunderstorm.
‘You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?’ Jess had insisted. ‘You can’t do this on your own, Stephanie. I mean, I’ll help out as much as I can, but you have to consider your financial situation. You won’t be able to work when you’re caring for a newborn baby, and Alexander is a billionaire, for heaven’s sake. It’s only right he should support his child.’
A shudder had run through Stephanie at Jess’s words. She could just picture Alexander’s fury if she went to him demanding money. ‘I suppose I’ll have to tell him. He has a right to know. But I don’t want anything from him,’ she told Jess fiercely. ‘This is my baby and I’ll take care of him—or her.’ Her voice had faltered. ‘But it’s still early days,’ she’d said, her throat constricting as the agonising memory of losing her first baby filled her with fear. ‘Anything could happen.’
It wouldn’t happen again, she tried to reassure herself now. Her miscarriage had been brought on by the stress of discovery that Fabian had been cheating on her throughout their marriage. This time she would not allow anything to upset her, or cause her to risk losing another baby.
But the knowledge that she would at some point have to tell Alexander that she was carrying his child hung over her like a heavy clouds, and the sight of his stunningly handsome face smiling from the front cover of a celebrity gossip magazine had been the last straw. The woman in the picture looked as though she was intent on climbing inside his jacket with him, Stephanie had noted sourly. She was an internationally famous model, and as Stephanie had stared at her she recalled Donata’s words that she was happy for Alexander to indulge in his predilection for beautiful blondes until they married.
The sooner she told him about the baby, the sooner she could put him out of her mind and her life, she decided, as she turned down a side street close to Hyde Park. She knew from the magazine article that he was currently in London, and now seemed an ideal time. She was absolutely certain he would not want to have anything to do with her or their child, but her heart was racing with nervous apprehension when she walked into the London offices of the House of Di Cesare.
Alexander got up from his desk and strolled over to the window of his office to stare out at the rain-lashed streets. Usually he exerted such supreme control over his life that nothing ever happened to surprise him. He did not like surprises, he conceded, and nothing had prepared him for the news imparted by his secretary that a Miss Stephanie Stewart was waiting in Reception and wanted to see him.
Why had she suddenly reappeared in his life, almost two months after he had returned to the Villa Rosala—his tiredness from a hellish few days evaporated at the anticipation of taking her to bed—and found that she had gone?
His mouth tightened at the memory. He’d read her pithy little note, explaining that she was returning to her job in London and didn’t want the distraction of continuing their affair, with a mixture of anger and disbelief. Being dumped was a new experience for him, and he didn’t like it.
Not that he was heartbroken, he thought caustically. Since the day his father had believed his stepmother’s lies and told him he no longer considered Alexander his son he had built a concrete wall around his heart that he was confident was impenetrable.
He had cynically wondered if Stephanie was playing a game perhaps she believed that his unabated desire for her meant that he was actually falling for her? It was certainly no coincidence that she had walked out to him after he had asked her to remain in Italy as his mistress. But if she’d hoped that he would chase after her, she had been doomed to be disappointed. He’d missed her—he would admit that much—but he could live quite happily without her, and the only reason he had instructed his secretary to send her into him in five minutes was because he was curious to know what she was playing at now.
His office door opened and his secretary appeared.
‘Miss Stewart’s here.’
‘Grazie, Michelle.’ He forced himself to remain at the window for several more seconds before he turned and glanced across the room, and he was irritated to find that his heart was beating uncomfortably fast as he stared at Stephanie.
She had lost weight, was his first thought. Her golden tan had faded, and she looked pale and drawn but no less beautiful. Her incredible blue eyes seemed too big for her face, but he dismissed the idea that she looked fragile with a shrug of his shoulders.
‘Please sit down.’ He indicated a chair and noted that her hands were shaking when she immediately sat and pushed her hair over her shoulders. He wondered why she was nervous, and why he liked the idea that he disturbed her, but his face was impassive as he resumed his seat and studied her coolly across his desk. ‘I’m afraid I’m not quite sure why you are here. Is this a social visit?’ he murmured.
‘No, not really.’ Stephanie licked her parched lips and dropped her gaze to the desk in front of her.
She had been mentally prepared for this for days, but the moment she had walked into his office and seen him—tall and dominant and achingly beautiful—her brain had seized up and she could think of nothing but the memory of the wildfire passion they had once shared.