The Spaniard's Pregnant Bride

He laughed. “I meant our attraction, mi tesoro.”

“We don’t have an attraction, Cristian,” she said, sounding very much like a disgusted teenager. “In fact, the two of us had to be completely disguised before anything like heat flared between us at all. I would say that we don’t have to worry about anything.”

Referencing that night sent a kick of heat through him. He had done nothing but dream about it ever since it had happened. The fact that it was Allegra Valenti he had lost his mind with twisted it into a nightmare. But it was a nightmare that was no less erotic than it had been before.

He hadn’t been with a woman since Sylvia’s death. Had not even been tempted. And then, he had descended the stairs of the ballroom to see a wild, purple creature, barely wrapped in that sensuous dress, her curves golden and generous. Her dark hair curling luxuriously around temptingly exposed shoulders.

He had known only one thing in that moment. Want. He had wanted her with a deep, feral desire that had transcended anything else. It had transcended reason. It had transcended decency. He had wanted nothing to spoil the moment. And so, when he had approached her, he had prevented her from speaking. He had not said a single word to her. He had not wanted to lose whatever spell had been cast over them.

He should have known that it was witchcraft. And that he would burn for it.

One indulgence in a lifetime of obedience and he had destroyed everything.

“I fear you are wrong on that score,” he said, schooling his tone into a bored, steady rhythm. “Chemistry like this is undeniable.”

She waved a hand. “Look at me. Denying it.”

“Your denial is empty as you carry my child in your womb.”

“Only because I didn’t know it was you that I was...with that night at the ball,” she shot back.

“So you say.”

“A marriage between us will not work,” she said, her words brittle.

“Oh, I have no doubt that it won’t. But you will marry me before the child is born, and you will stay married to me for what appears to be a suitable amount of time. Afterward, divorce me. As quickly and painlessly as you would like.”

“There will never be anything painless about a divorce where my parents are concerned.”

“I imagine not. They are very Catholic, are they not?”

She frowned. “I shall be married to you until the end of time in their eyes.”

“And yet, I find that my need for an heir transcends my concerns for your sense of family.”

“There is nothing simple about this, that’s my point. Anyway, you’re acting as though I can just take a couple of years out of my life to molder away in some Spanish castle.”

“It’s more of a villa.”

“And you’re only a duke. I was supposed to marry a prince.”

“It was not the prince who had you up against a wall, Allegra. I doubt you’re regretful of the fact that you can no longer marry Prince Raphael.”

“That’s almost like admitting you’re wrong, isn’t it?” she asked, her tone baiting. “Seeing as you essentially arranged our engagement.”

“I was not wrong about it being advantageous. Chemistry, on the other hand, is harder to predict. You clearly have no great passion with him.”

Her cheeks colored. “What makes you think that?”

He lifted a shoulder. “You didn’t think for one moment the child could be his. Otherwise, you would not have broken off your engagement. What other conclusion can I draw but one which suggests you are not actively sleeping with him?”

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. “Maybe it isn’t yours. Maybe I make love to all manner of strange men in corridors at parties. Maybe the only thing I’m certain about is that it isn’t Raphael’s because he’s such a gentleman that he wouldn’t touch me.”

“Still trying that story out?”

“Perhaps it’s the truth. Perhaps, I am the very whore of Babylon.” She lifted her chin and shook her head, her dark hair shimmering in the light. “You don’t know me, Cristian. Not really. At least, you don’t know the woman I have grown into. You have this idea that I’m a child, but I am in my twenties.”

He laughed, suddenly feeling quite old. “Ancient.”

“I only mean that I am a woman. Whatever you might think.”

“I am under no illusions about your femininity, Allegra.”

He was gratified to see her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, however, there was a cost to the victory. It made his stomach tighten with hunger. Made his body ache with need.

For Allegra.

It was unacceptable.

“Well, there are a great many men who have no illusion about it,” she sniffed. “They know about it. Personally.”

He didn’t believe her. And yet, the thought of Allegra with other men angered him. He could only attribute the possessiveness to the fact that she was having his baby. Perhaps combined with the fact that she was the first woman he had been with in quite some time.

“Or perhaps,” Cristian said, watching her face closely, “you are so certain about it because you were a virgin.”

He relived the moment that he had pushed inside her body. She had been tight, there was no doubt about that. He had attributed the cry she’d made at the time to pleasure. Now, he wondered.

The realization was...intoxicating. He should be disgusted with himself. But he was...triumphant. He wondered about himself. At whether or not he was still under some kind of black magic spell.

The color in her face deepened. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Closer to the truth, I think.”

“Who would lose their virginity that way?” She sounded close to hysterical.

“Perhaps a woman who is being married off to a man she doesn’t love?”

She said nothing. Satisfaction surged through him, and he gritted his teeth to hold back a growl of triumph. “The child is mine then. For certain.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He kept his eyes trained on her, trying to ignore the riot of heat that was coursing through him. “You will give me my heir, my legitimate heir, and preserve the reputation of the child, and then you can move on as though none of this happened.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet! And are you suggesting I leave our child with you?”

“The Acosta heir should be raised in Spain, I should think.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Helplessly, he found his gaze drawn to the soft swells. “I’m not leaving my child. Regardless of our arrangements.”