The Italian's Wedding Ultimatum Page 12

  "Relax, your secrets are safe, I prefer your underwear with you in it."

  Sam drew a startled breath as her aquamarine eyes lifted to his. A shock of white-hot excitement washed over her, infiltrating every individual Alessandro-deprived cell of her body as their glances connected.

  "Save the smouldering looks, Alessandro," she growled angrily. "They don't do a thing for me," she lied.

  "You are a terrible liar, cara."

  "Oh, God!" she groaned, lifting a hand to her cheek. "Don't do this to me, Alessandro."

  "What am I doing to you, tesoro mio?"

  Appalled, because his chest was the only place her head wanted to be, Sam walked over to the window and lifted the casement. Ducking her head outside, she took several restorative gulps. She tensed and closed her eyes as she sensed him come up behind her. When his hands came to rest on her hips instinct took over and she leaned back into him with a sigh.

  It was the sound of crunching metal that broke the spell.

  "What was that?" Alessandro, his expression curious, but at that point unalarmed, leaned past her to see through the window. "That woman has driven straight into my car."

  "That woman is my mother."

  "Your mother!" He winced, as there was a further agonised crunching of metal as the Volvo reversed away from the rear of his gleaming Mercedes.

  "She says that's what bumpers are for," Sam explained, as her parents emerged from the Volvo and her mother's voice drifted upwards.

  "I thought there was plenty of space, George."

  "Let me do the talking..."

  Sam closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. She had long ago come to the conclusion that her parents' main objective in life was to embarrass her as much as was possible. But today they were surpassing themselves.

  "My car..."

  Sam's hands fell away from her face, "Nevermind your stupid car," she hissed. If dented cars were the worst thing to come out of this she would consider herself very lucky indeed. Being a realist, she knew this was unlikely.

  This slight made him look offended. "My stupid car...?"

  "Well, it's only a car, and I'm sure you have dozens of others, My parents are coming up,.. "

  "And you want me not to mention your mother's driving?"

  "I want you not to be here," Her sinking heart reached rock bottom. Short of making him climb down the drainpipe, she was going to have to explain him being in her flat to her parents. Even her fertile imagination wasn't that creative. "They can't find you here."

  He arched a sardonic brow, a frown forming on his face as he recognised the extent of her agitation. "Why can't they find me here?"

  "Because they might think - " She stopped, her eyes sliding away from his. What was she meant to say? They might think you're the father of my baby, and they'd be right.

  "That we are lovers?" Sam was unable to tear her eyes from the nerve that had begun to throb in his lean cheek. "You are ashamed to have your parents know of our relationship?"

  "And you on the other hand are ready to shout it from the rooftops.. .I don't think," she drawled. "We can't exactly say you just dropped by for a chat, can we?"

  "Why not?"

  She looked at him, exasperated. "Because they know I can't stand you."

  "Do you often have sex with men you can't stand?"

  "You were the first."

  "In more ways than one," he observed soberly.

  "Oh, for heaven's sake. I don't know why you're so hung up about this virginity thing!" she groaned in exasperation. "It's not like I was waiting for you specifically or anything."

  "Maybe..." One dark brow arched as he scoured her resentful features. "But I seem to recall you saying you were glad you had waited, and that it was me."

  "And I," she countered flushing deeply, "recall you saying a lot of things not to be taken literally either."

  His eyes narrowed as he folded his arms across his chest. "Such as...?"

  "Such as I'm beautiful and sexy and... " Her eyes slid from his bold, provocative stare. "Stuff," she added gruffly, "like that."

  "And you do not feel sexy or beautiful?"

  As if he didn't know he had the ability to make any woman feel that way. "I am a realist."

  "Realist!" he flared. "You are the most irrational, contradictory female I have ever encountered."

  "Don't you dare start with that you're an irrational female guff!" she warned.

  He looked from her angry pink cheeks to her tightly clenched fists and heaving bosom and smiled. "You're the soul of reason, cara." He stopped suddenly, his frowning gaze lingering on her soft features. "You know, you look different..."

  First Mum, now Alessandro...What is it with me? Did someone stick an "I'm pregnant" sticker on my forehead when I wasn't looking?

  "Nobody could stay reasonable around you. And the way I recall it you weren't too anxious to have your precious friends know about our relationship."

  A spasm of annoyance crossed his lean features. "It was you who seemed to get some sort of thrill from our relationship being illicit. I just went along with it."

  Sam stared at him. "Me...? You're suggesting...?" Feeling pushed into a comer, she gritted defensively, "You don't care about me. We didn't have a relationship - we had sex!" she blurted, thinking, Please say it meant more.

  Only he didn't. In fact nothing in his manner suggested it had meant more, apart from a strong desire to throttle her.

  The anger that had flared in his dark eyes faded as he recognised the glitter of unshed tears in her eyes. "Not enough sex."

  Sam fought the surge of debilitating weakness that followed his seductively soft complaint.

  "I came here this evening to rectify that."

  She stared at him, unable to think. Her body was literally thrumming with desire. And then there was a loud knock on the door.

  "Don't answer it."

  His compelling glance locked with hers.

  If he had touched her then Sam knew she would have gone along with his suggestion... Heck, she'd have gone along with just about any suggestion he cared to make! But he didn't. He just stood there, looking explosive and impossibly sexy, while he waited for her to give in.

  Someone outside leaned on the doorbell and didn't let go.

  Sam shook her head and tried to think, but every attempt at rational thought got as far as Alessandro naked. "God, what am I going to do with you?" She thought of some things she could do with him and her focus slipped another fatal notch.

  "You want me to hide under the bed, perhaps?"

  Sam greeted this sarcastic interjection with a genuine sigh of relief. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't I think of that?"

  Outrage and disbelief stamped on his patrician features, Alessandro stared at her. "You are suggesting I hide under your bed?"

  "Not under the bed, obviously." A grin formed on her lips as she looked him up and down. "You wouldn't fit." But with me he fits perfectly.

  In response to the hands she laid flat against his chest, and without taking his fascinated gaze from her face, Alessandro began to back towards the closed door of her bedroom.

  "You wish me to hide from your parents?" he said, as if he couldn't quite believe that was what she was suggesting.

  "That's the general idea." When he didn't respond she opened the door and gave him a push. "And whatever you do," she added, pressing a finger to her lips, "don't make a sound, I'll get rid of them as quickly as I can."

  Just as she closed the door the doorbell rang again. Sam took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Chin up, she walked to the door and opened it. If that doorbell hadn't rung when it did I could be doing something very stupid

  A certain lack of appreciation for her narrow escape was responsible for the cranky expression on her face when she pulled open the door.

  "Where's the fire? Mum and Dad - what are you doing here?" She looked from one to the other, pretending surprise, as she added under her breath, "As if I didn't know. I supp
ose you'd better come in," she added ungraciously.

  "Sorry, darling, but it just slipped out," her mother murmured contritely as they stepped past her into the sunny room.

  "And just as well it did," her father observed. "I'm only disappointed my daughter didn't feel able to tell me herself."

  Sam accepted this parental chastisement with a rueful, apologetic grimace,

  "Am I such a terrible father?"

  Sam repressed a groan. Her father yelling she could take; it was infinitely preferable to Dad taking the blame. "Of course not, Dad. I just..."

  "Now, what is this nonsense about the father not wanting to know? Not wanting to know!" he repeated, his face reddening. "What sort of irresponsible loser would not want to know about his own child?" he demanded.

  "Dad, no matter what I say, you're not going to like it."

  "You tell me who he is, Samantha, and I'll change his mind," he predicted rubbing his hands in anticipation.

  Sam's eyes flickered towards the bedroom door. Her father's gruff voice had a penetrating quality and the walls of the flat were paper-thin. She guided them towards the kitchen area, which was farthest from the bedroom. "Will you calm down, Dad?" she begged. "It's not the end of the world," she soothed.

  "Calm!" George echoed in an incensed bellow that made Sam wince. "My little girl gets pregnant by some loser," he choked, "and you expect me to stay calm!"

  "Shall I open the window?" Sam enquired bitterly. "I think that deaf lady in number three might not have heard you."

  Her father's eyes narrowed. "This is no laughing matter. I'll wring the irresponsible bastard's neck. This guy is going to learn you don't mess with a Maguire."

  Sam rolled her eyes. "You've been reading those Westerns again, haven't you, Dad?" She sighed. "Say after me," she suggested. "I am not Wyatt Earp, I am a middle-aged GP who hates paperwork." Her father did not return her coaxing smile, so with a rueful shrug she eased herself onto the countertop and began to swing her legs. Regressive behaviour she thought, and stopped swinging like the kid her father obviously considered her to be.

  "You think this is some sort of joke, young lady?"

  "No, Dad, I do not think this is some sort of joke. But I do think this is my life," she said quietly. "You have to let me do this my way."

  "Which is how?"

  "I don't know yet," she admitted.

  Her father responded to this confession by pulling at his thinning sandy hair and groaning.

  "I knew this was the way you'd react, which is why I asked Mum not to tell you. I'm not your little girl, Dad."

  "You'll always be my little girl."

  Sam, who was a whisker away from crying like a baby, sniffed loudly.

  "Shall I make a nice cup of tea?"

  Her husband and daughter turned to look at Ruth Maguire, their expressions both incredulous.

  "A nice cup of tea isn't going to solve this, Ruth," her husband informed her with withering scorn.

  "Neither will wringing anyone's neck," Sam pointed out. "Actually, Mum," she said, glancing at her watch, "I need to be somewhere..."

  "Well, if Sam needs to be somewhere, George-" Ruth began hopefully.

  "I'm not going anywhere until I get some straight answers," her husband announced bullishly, "And neither are you, young... "

  "You should have woken me, cara." Rich and sleepily intimate, the deep voice cut across her father's irate rant.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Watching her father's jaw drop, Sam closed her eyes and felt her body flood with dread, Of course in hindsight she could see that this had been inevitable. You didn't shove a man with an ego like Alessandro's in a dark cupboard, or in this instance your bedroom, and not expect him to exact some sort of retribution.

  Only he had not the faintest idea what he was walking into.

  When she opened her eyes and turned her head she saw that Alessandro had pulled out all the stops. I suppose, she thought, swallowing past the aching constriction in her dry throat as her glance roamed hungrily across the expanse of rippling golden torso on show, I should be grateful he kept his pants on! Though the unbuckled belt that hung around his narrow hips and the unfastened top two buttons of his jeans were a nice touch, all geared to cause her the maximum embarrassment. My God, she thought, you have absolutely no idea of how embarrassing this is likely to get.

  Barefooted, he padded into the room, moving with the inimitable sexy animal elegance that even at this moment she found totally riveting. "Is that coffee I smell?"

  No, it's fear, she thought.

  Their eyes touched, and the malicious gleam in his told her that her reading of his motives had been bang on target. Still holding her eyes, he stretched lazily and lifted a hand to his artfully tousled sable hair. He stopped, and appeared to notice they were not alone.

  An Oscar-winning performance, she mused, watching self-consciousness register on his face as he looked at her parents. Self-conscious? Sure, that was really likely, she thought struggling to contain her indignation. She was pretty sure that Alessandro could walk stark naked into a Women's Institute meeting and not blush!

  "Mum, Dad - you know Alessandro, I believe?"

  "What does this mean, Samantha?" demanded her father, looking from the tall, half-naked Italian to her daughter,

  Her mother, who had been staring as the splendid bronzed figure emerged with a stunned expression, suddenly released a long sigh and smiled as things clicked into place.

  "For goodness' sake, George, what do you think it means?" Sounding exasperated, she flashed her husband a look loaded with meaning. The smile she then bestowed on Alessandro was so warm and approving that he in his turn looked taken aback.

  In response to the questioning glance he flashed Sam, she shrugged. He'll look even more taken aback once he realises that Mum is measuring him up as potential son-in-law material, Sam thought, swallowing the bubble of hysterical laughter that rose to her throat.

  "You've been having an affair with this man?"

  Sam flushed.

  "Well?"

  "Answer the man, cara,"

  "Not an affair," she snapped.

  "He has just come out of your bedroom naked! What was he doing?"

  "Well, why ask if you already know?"

  Alessandro's dark brows drew together as he bared his teeth. "Not an affair? Then what would your definition be?"

  "The biggest mistake of my life!"

  George, forgotten by the two combatants, went a shade deeper and his barrel chest swelled with wrath as his glare moved from one to the other. "You're not going to deny that you're sleeping with my daughter?"

  "Of course he isn't. Now, please don't get excited, dear. It's bad for your blood pressure," Ruth said, patting her husband's shoulder.

  "I don't need you to tell me about my blood pressure! I'm a doctor!" George Maguire drew a deep breath and turned his narrowed gaze on the younger man. "I want to know what you intend to do."

  "Putting on some clothes would be a good start." Sam inserted drily, before Alessandro could respond to the challenge.

  "Nevermind that," her father interrupted impatiently. "What I want know is are you going to marry her?"

  "Marry!" Alessandro exclaimed, looking shaken for the first time during this interchange.

  "It hasn't even occurred to you, has it?" A look of contempt contorted the older man's face.

  Sam closed her eyes and missed the revealing expression on Alessandro's face. She accepted that the point where she could avert disaster had passed, and held her breath and waited in a fatalistic fashion for the truth to emerge.

  "Men like you are contemptible!" her father declared, looking at the younger man as though he was something unpleasant on his shoe. "The scum of the earth."

  Alessandro's nostrils flared, his darkly defined brows lifted and his breathing quickened. But his expression remained politely enquiring, if slightly wooden. Sam thought that under the circumstances he was taking the scathing denouncement of his character q
uite well.

  "I don't suppose this is the first time."

  "I am thirty-two, Dr Maguire." Thirty-two, and I thought I would never find a woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I finally do, and she is ashamed to acknowledge our relationship." Irony glittering in the dark depths, his eyes slid towards Sam as her father yelled.

  "Is that meant to be funny? You obviously have no concept of decency whatsoever. Sam is right. She and the baby are better off without you." Oblivious to the bombshell he had just delivered, George turned his attention to his daughter. "I demand, Samantha, that you promise me here and now that you will never see this man again."

  "I'd not planned to." she said, leaden as she looked into a future that held no Alessandro.

  "Baby?" The heel of his hand pressed to his forehead, Alessandro took his first breath for a full sixty seconds. His stunned dark glance swivelled back towards Sam.

  Sam, thinking, Here it comes, watched the muscles in his brown throat working as he swallowed convulsively.

  "Baby?"

  "This innocent act is all very well-" George began.

  "Dad," Sam interrupted, her eyes fixed on Alessandro's lean face. "He didn't know."

  Her father gaped at her incredulously. "You haven't told the man you're pregnant?"

  Alessandro drew a deep, shuddering breath. "Dio!" His searing glance moved over Sam's flushed and defensive face before dropping to her stomach. "You are pregnant?"

  The focus of all eyes, Sam shrugged and pushed out her chin. "Looks like it!"

  "And I am the father...?" There were two slashes of dark colour along Alessandro's cheekbones as his eyes lifted to hers.

  Sam took a deep, offended breath. " It's possible," she admitted between gritted teeth. "But when double numbers are involved the math gets tricky"

  "Sam!" her mother reproached. "She always gets flippant when she's embarrassed," she explained in an aside to Alessandro.

  Sam blinked furiously before the tears that filled her eyes could fall. "Thanks for the support, Mum, but I'm not embarrassed," she muttered bitterly, before turning to the sink. She turned both taps on full blast and began to mechanically pile clean cups into the water.

  "If you will excuse me, I need to have a private conversation with your daughter,"