Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child. Annie West

      She might despise him, but she was still woman enough to respond to his sheer sex appeal.

      ‘Nothing. I was just thinking about how you’ve changed.’ It was only half a lie.

      ‘Have I altered so much?’ She sensed movement and turned her head to find him leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

      She shrugged. ‘It’s been…’ Just in time she stopped herself. He didn’t need to know she recalled to the day how long it had been. ‘A while. People change.’

      ‘How have I changed?’

      Carys wondered at the intensity of his stare. She felt it like the caress of a jade blade across her skin, smooth but potentially lethal.

      ‘Well, there’s the scar for a start.’

      She closed her lips before she could blurt out questions about his health. Had he been in an accident? Or, her thudding heartbeat faltered, had it been surgery?

      Sternly she told herself she didn’t care.

      ‘I’m in excellent health now.’ The murmured words surprised her. How had he read her mind?

      ‘Of course you are,’ she said too quickly. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.’ If he was ill he’d be in Italy, under the care of the country’s top doctors, not summoning her to his room in the early hours to talk about…what did he want?

      Carys’ nerves spasmed in denial. There could only be one reason for his presence. Only one thing he wanted.

      Her son.

      Surely Alessandro’s presence here meant he’d decided belatedly that he wanted Leo after all.

      Alessandro didn’t do things by halves. If he wanted something he’d take it all. And surely any normal Italian male would want his own son?

      Fear wrapped icy fingers around her heart. If she was right, what chance did she have of stopping him?

      ‘How else have I changed?’

      Carys frowned at this fixation with his looks. The man she’d known had been careless about that, though he’d dressed with the instinctive panache of one who’d grown up amongst a chic, fashion-conscious set.

      ‘You’re paler than before. And thinner.’

      When they’d met, he’d been on a skiing holiday, his olive skin burnished dark golden-brown by the alpine sun. His body was all hard-packed muscle and rangy height. Carys had looked into his dancing green eyes and sensuous smile that made her feel she was the only other person on the planet. Without a second thought she’d fallen for him like a ton of bricks.

      Now he seemed pared down, but that only emphasised his spectacular bone structure. The way he moved made it clear he hadn’t lost his whipcord strength and abundant energy.

      He lifted the brandy to his lips again, but not before she read a wry grimace. ‘I’ve been working long hours.’

      Such long hours he’d stopped eating?

      Carys looked away, silently berating herself for caring.

      ‘Some things don’t change, then.’

      Those last weeks, Alessandro had used work as an excuse not to be with her. At first she’d thought there was a problem with the business, or with Alessandro assuming its control after his father’s death, but her tentative questions, her attempts to understand and offer support, had been firmly rebuffed.

      The company was fine. He was fine. She worried too much. He just had responsibilities to fulfil. She remembered the litany.

      Methodically Alessandro had shut her out of his life, day by day and hour by hour. Till their only communication was during the brief pre-dawn hours when he’d take her with a blistering-hot passion that had threatened to consume them both.

      Until she’d discovered it wasn’t just business taking him away. That he’d had time for other things, other…people. How gullible she’d been, believing he’d be content with the naïve, unsophisticated woman who shared his bed…

      ‘Being the CEO of a multi-national enterprise requires commitment.’

      ‘I know that.’ She’d given up worrying about the ridiculous hours he’d begun working. Given up trying to understand what had happened to the charming, attentive man with whom she’d fallen in love. That man had worked hard too, but he’d known how to switch off. How to enjoy being with her.

      Her stomach churned. Whatever they’d once shared was over. He’d left her in no doubt she’d never live up to his exacting standards.

       What was she doing here?

      Her throat closed as the futility of their conversation swamped her. This could lead nowhere, achieve nothing but the reopening of painful wounds.

      Carys shot to her feet. ‘It’s been…interesting seeing you again. But I have to go. It’s late.’

      The words were barely out of her mouth when he was before her, looming so close she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. His gaze licked like flame across her skin.

      Instinctively she stepped back, only to find her way blocked. Heat engulfed her as her brain processed frantic messages. Of surprise. Of anger. Of excitement.

      ‘You can’t leave yet.’

      ‘I can and will.’ She refused to play the fool for him again. ‘We’re finished.’

      ‘Finished?’ One straight brow quirked up, and his mouth curved in a tight, unamused smile. ‘Then what about this?’

      He snagged her close with one long arm so she landed hard against him. Then he lowered his head.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘ALESSANDRO!’

      Her voice was scratchy with surprise as she said his name for the first time, making him pause. Yet the sound was familiar. He felt it deep in his bones.

      She was familiar, the way her body melded to his, all feminine enticement as he pinioned her to him.

      He’d tried to hold back. Go slow. Behave sensibly.

      But from the moment she’d walked in everything had changed. His caution, his adherence to the niceties of social behaviour had melted away. Now he operated on raw, primal instinct that overrode logic and convention.

      He held her satisfyingly close. With her breasts cushioned against his torso, her hips pressed against him. He felt anticipation surge.

      When she’d arrived, looking weary yet defiant, he’d questioned his need to confront her tonight. But those doubts disintegrated as her body softened against his and he heard the tell-tale hitch in her breathing.

      There might be fire in her eyes, but the way she fitted against him belied her indignation.

      This was mutual.

      He had no conscious recollection of her but his body remembered her. The stirring in his loins told its own tale of familiarity and desire.

      He looked down into grey-blue eyes, darkening with sparks of azure and indigo, and felt he was falling through mist, towards a bright sunny place.

      He inhaled her spicy soft cinnamon fragrance and his brain cried Yes! This is the one!

      ‘Alessandro!’ Her voice was more determined now, like her hands pushing at his chest. Yet that underpinning note of hesitancy betrayed her.

      He lifted one hand to palm her face. Her cheek was soft and pale as milk. Her eyelids fluttered and drooped then snapped wide open.

      ‘You have no right to do this. Let me go.’ Yet she’d stopped struggling, merely stood straighter and unyielding in his embrace.

      ‘No right?’ He swiped his thumb across