The Shock Cassano Baby. Andie Brock

He paused, meeting her heated gaze with measured calmness. ‘As for your home—what are you suggesting? That I move into your apartment? I suspect it would be a little crowded for the three of us.’

      Isobel scowled. The idea of him moving into her flat was farcical, as well he knew.

      She squared her shoulders. ‘I don’t remember agreeing to us living together at all.’

      ‘We are both going to have to make sacrifices, Isobel.’ Orlando pinned her with his gaze. ‘That’s the fact of the matter.’

      Sacrifices. Was that how he saw this? Was that how he viewed their baby?

      Because that wasn’t how Isobel felt. She already loved this growing life inside her—already knew that she would do anything to protect it, to provide for it, to keep it safe. That wasn’t sacrifice—that was love. But it wasn’t the same for Orlando—how could it be? He had no emotional attachment to this baby. To him it was just a millstone around his neck, a huge encumbrance that he felt compelled to deal with.

      With a spark of hope, Isobel decided to give it one more try—to make him realise that he could walk away if he wanted to, leave her to it. She could cope. In fact she would trade the tumult of living with him for the hollow calmness of raising the child alone a thousand times over.

      ‘I meant what I said earlier, Orlando,’ she started. ‘I am prepared to raise the child alone, to take full responsibility. There is no need for you to make any sacrifices for this baby.’

      ‘Let me make something clear, Isobel.’ Orlando’s voice dipped dangerously low. ‘I intend to meet my responsibilities, and that will inevitably involve sacrifices. But I will make them willingly and wholeheartedly. It’s the only way. I assume you feel the same?’

      ‘Well, yes, obviously.’ It was all very well, him coming over all noble, but he expected her to give up her life in London and fly halfway across the world to share a life with him that he freely admitted would only be for the sake of their child.

      Deep down, Isobel knew that was what hurt most of all. And deep down was where that particular misery was going to have to stay. Because she had more than enough to worry about right now.

      ‘I know that having a baby will radically alter my lifestyle, but not to the extent that I have to leave England and move to another continent.’

      ‘Do you have a better idea?’

      Isobel sucked in a breath, all too aware that Orlando was poised, ready to pounce. Still, she had to try. ‘I don’t see why you can’t successfully be a part of the child’s life even if we live in different places.’

      There was a telling pause. Orlando’s eyes were holding hers with an icy sharpness that lowered the temperature by several degrees. Dimly Isobel registered the burble of voices, the throaty laugh of a woman on the table behind them, the ominous drum of Orlando’s fingers on the table.

      ‘I don’t want to be “a part of the child’s life”, Isobel.’ When finally he spoke his voice was low, but full of intent. ‘I want to be a father.’

      The weighting of the word left no room for misunderstanding.

      Squaring his shoulders, he gave Isobel the full force of his gaze, those deliciously dark, bitter chocolate eyes piercing her with almost painful intensity.

      ‘And I mean a father from the get-go—starting now. I will be supporting it financially, emotionally, and any other way that is necessary. I will be involved in all decisions regarding every aspect of its life until it reaches adulthood, and after that too—whenever he or she wishes it or I deem it to be required. I am going to be one hundred per cent committed to our child. Do I make myself clear?’

      Isobel swallowed.

      ‘And one more thing.’ He set his jaw determinedly. ‘We will need to get married.’

      Orlando coldly watched the look of panic sweep over Isobel’s face, The irony of the situation was striking a heavy blow to his pride. Never had he expected his marriage proposal to be met with such a reaction. But then never had he expected to make one.

      Life for him was all about working hard and taking his pleasures when and where he chose—usually in the form of beautiful women and always, always on his terms. Marriage was for mugs. And as for children... Based on his own upbringing, they brought nothing but misery and heartache.

      But circumstances had changed dramatically and the unimaginable had happened. Now he was determined to make Isobel his wife, no matter how distasteful she might find it. Because no way was he going to have his child growing up illegitimate, as he had. No way was he going to follow the pattern of his father in any shape or form.

      In the few hours he’d had to get used to the idea of Isobel’s pregnancy, shock had turned to discipline as adrenaline had kicked in, telling him to take charge, control the situation, do what he did best. Now he was intent on working out the practicalities, finding the best way to make a stable home for this child. Because that was how Orlando worked—logically, methodically, with a cool head and a razor-sharp brain that defined and solved problems.

      It was a winning combination that had served him well in business, kept him ahead of the game, made him the hugely successful man he was today.

      But logic couldn’t account for the tightening in his chest when he looked at Isobel now. Or why her expression—sheer horror just about summed it up—twisted at something inside him. If he had asked her to jump off a cliff she couldn’t have looked more aghast. He had no idea why that look bothered him—it wasn’t as if he was even surprised.

      ‘Married?’ Finally finding her voice, Isobel used it with chilling authority. ‘No, I’m sorry. I can’t commit to that.’

      Orlando felt the blood start to pulse in his veins. ‘I’m afraid you are going to have to.’

      ‘I don’t have to do anything, Orlando.’

      Isobel’s stark words pulled him up short, and as the waiter arrived with their food Orlando was forced to accept that she was right. Right now, Isobel held all the cards. There was absolutely nothing to stop her from digging in those sexy heels and refusing point-blank to agree to any of his demands. Or, worse still, striding off in them and leaving him with nothing but a foul temper and a pending paternity case.

      He watched from beneath lowered lashes as she looked at the food being set before her, politely thanking the waiter. If he wasn’t careful he was going to blow this. His every instinct was telling him that he had to win control of this situation, of Isobel—of his whole life, goddammit. Because at the moment he was still in free fall, with no idea of where he might land.

      A huge surge of emotion was telling him to get this sorted right now. He would have frog-marched Isobel to a register office there and then if he’d thought he could get away with it. But he knew he had to rein in his domineering attitude before it spooked Isobel completely and she bolted out of his life.

      He picked up his knife and fork. ‘I’m sorry you find the idea so abhorrent, Isobel.’ His knife sliced through a scallop with a surgeon’s precision. ‘But I think it’s important that we establish some security for our child as soon as possible. Things can change...who knows what might happen in the future?’

      ‘Meaning what, exactly?’

      ‘Meaning you might meet someone else—find a lovely roses-round-the-door family life that I would have no part in.’

      ‘No, that wouldn’t happen.’

      ‘It’s possible.’

      ‘So what are you saying? We have to marry in order for you to have legal rights over the child?’

      ‘That is one of the reasons.’

      ‘In that case let me give you my word right now. I would never dispute the child’s parentage nor deny you access.’

      ‘Not good enough, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Well,