The Gold Collection. Maggie Cox

surprised that she responded to him unthinkingly. Oh, she’d missed him, she thought, as he deepened the kiss to something so deeply sensual that she began to tremble, and when he pulled her close she melted in his arms.

      ‘I recall the sofa was a very comfortable place to make love,’ he murmured. ‘Or shall we attempt to make it to my bedroom this time?’

      ‘No … I mean … neither. I’m not here for that,’ Rebekah gasped. The sound of Dante’s voice shattered the sensual web he had woven around her and, with a little cry of despair that she had succumbed to him so weakly, she pulled out of his arms.

      ‘You could have fooled me,’ he said drily. Why was she playing hard to get? Dante wondered impatiently. He grabbed his glass and strode over to the bar. ‘Do you want a drink?’ he asked roughly, pouring himself another Scotch. ‘I forgot—you can’t drink alcohol. I can offer you a soft drink.’

      ‘No, thanks.’ Rebekah took a deep breath. ‘Actually, my strange allergy to alcohol is sort of the reason why I’m here.’

      Dante lifted his brows but made no comment. On the train journey from Wales Rebekah had rehearsed what she was going to say to him, but the kiss had thrown her. She hadn’t expected him to still desire her. Perhaps it was a good thing, she thought shakily. It gave her hope that they might be able to make something of their relationship. But first she had to tell him, and the longer she hesitated the harder it was becoming.

      ‘I … I’m going to have a baby,’ she blurted out.

      He went very still and for a second his shock showed on his face. His silence simmered with tension. Lifting his glass, he took a swig of his drink.

      ‘Congratulations. I assume that’s what you want me to say?’ His jaw tightened. ‘You didn’t waste much time, did you? I assume the father is someone you met when you went back to Wales.’

CHAPTER TEN

      REBEKAH had tried a hundred times over the past weeks to imagine what Dante’s reaction would be, but it had never occurred to her that he would jump to the conclusion that she was pregnant with another man’s child.

      ‘The baby is yours,’ she said quietly. ‘I conceived the first night we slept together after the party.’

      For what seemed like a lifetime he made no response. ‘You assured me you were on the Pill,’ he said eventually. His expression was unreadable. ‘I trusted you.’

      His words seemed to echo around the silent room. Dante felt as though a lump of ice had formed inside him and his blood ran cold as he remembered the other occasion when he had been told by a woman that she was pregnant with his child. Like a fool, he had believed Lara. This time he would not be so gullible or so trusting, he thought grimly.

      How could Dante’s eyes that a few moments ago had blazed with fiery passion have turned to hard steel? She hadn’t expected him to be thrilled to learn of his impending fatherhood, Rebekah acknowledged, but his coldness felt like a knife in her heart.

      ‘I certainly didn’t lie to you,’ she told him with quiet dignity. ‘I was on the Pill but, because there is a history of high blood pressure in my family, I was taking the mini-pill, which isn’t quite as effective as the more common type. I didn’t know there was alcohol in the fruit punch at the ball, and if I had I wouldn’t have touched it. When I was sick after we spent the night together I didn’t realise I wasn’t protected against falling pregnant.’

      He stared at her speculatively. ‘You must admit it sounds convenient,’ he said at last, in a curiously emotionless voice. ‘If the child you are carrying is really mine, why did you wait so long to tell me? It’s the end of October, yet you say you conceived at the end of June. That’s four months.’

      He strode back over to her and jerked the edges of her coat open, seeing the slight but distinct mound of her belly, and shock jolted through him. There was no doubt she was pregnant, but he was struggling with the idea that it could be his child.

      ‘My dad was seriously injured in an accident on the farm. The tractor he was driving rolled over and he was crushed beneath it.’ Rebekah’s voice shook at the memory of seeing her father’s body trapped beneath the tractor’s wheels. Her mother, usually so calm, had looked terrified, and her older brother Owen had been grim-faced as he had called the emergency services. Ifan Evans was a giant of a man who had never suffered a day’s illness in his life. His near-fatal accident had shaken the whole family, and for several weeks while he remained in intensive care Rebekah had simply pushed her pregnancy to the back of her mind and concentrated on supporting her parents through their ordeal. It was only now her father was back home at the farm and making a good recovery that she was able to focus on the new life growing inside her.

      ‘I understand you must be shocked about the baby,’ she told Dante. ‘I was too at first. But we’re both intelligent adults and we have to accept that no form of contraception is one hundred per cent safe.’

      ‘I’ll want proof that the child is mine.’

      She bit her lip and tasted blood. ‘And once you have your proof, will you demand I have an abortion?’ Her voice shook as she fought to control her emotions. ‘If so, you’ll waste your breath because I am going to have this child, with or without your support.’

      He was visibly shocked. ‘Of course I would not want you to …’ He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence and he cursed himself for his insensitivity when he remembered how her ex-fiancé had reacted when she had told him she was pregnant. Had Rebekah hoped he would be pleased to hear she was expecting his child? If so, then he had cruelly disappointed her, he accepted, gripped by guilt as he stared at her tense face. She deserved so much more than he had given her. But he was reeling from shock and all he could think of was how he’d felt as if his heart had been ripped out when Lara had taken Ben.

      When Rebekah had told him she was pregnant he had experienced a feeling of déjà vu. It seemed unbelievable that history was repeating itself. The hurt expression in her violet eyes made him wince.

      ‘How do you feel about the pregnancy?’ he asked her gruffly.

      ‘Happy,’ she said instantly. Her voice wobbled. ‘And scared.’

      Dante turned away from her and sloshed more whisky into his glass, vaguely surprised to find that his hands were shaking. It was his fault that Rebekah was in this situation, he thought grimly. She had suffered the agony of her first child being stillborn and understandably this second pregnancy must bring back terrible memories and make her afraid of what lay ahead. She needed his reassurance and support, not his anger. But he could not reach out to her. It shamed him to admit that he was scared too, afraid of being hurt like he had been once before.

      Rebekah felt sick with despair. Once again she was carrying a child inside her who was not wanted by its father. Blazing anger replaced her misery. Fatherhood might not appeal to Dante but he had a responsibility to his baby. How dared he try and wriggle out of that responsibility by suggesting that the baby wasn’t his?

      ‘I am carrying your child, no one else’s.’ She placed a hand on her stomach and her eyes blazed with maternal pride and protectiveness. ‘In five months’ time we are going to be parents, so you’d better get used to the idea.’

      She took a steadying breath, afraid that her thudding heartbeat couldn’t be good for the baby. And the baby was all that mattered. The welfare of the tiny scrap of life inside her was her only concern and it should be Dante’s too. ‘If you insist on proof, I’m willing for a paternity test to be done.’ She closed her eyes to hold back the tears that suddenly blinded her. ‘How could you think I would try and con you into fatherhood if I knew the child wasn’t yours?’

      Dante gulped down the rest of the whisky in his glass, aware that he owed Rebekah an explanation. In fact the explanation was long overdue, he thought heavily, when he saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

      ‘Because