The Shock Cassano Baby. Andie Brock

calves down to those ankle boots with their vertiginously high heels.

      He’d noticed them as soon as she had walked into the boardroom—as had every other person sitting around that table. Their vivid red colour had flashed brighter than a robin’s breast in the glass and steel setting of this modern office building.

      Immediately his thoughts had flown to how he would remove them, sliding down the zippers at the side and inching them off her feet whilst Isobel was splayed across his bed, waiting for his attentions. That would work. Or maybe leaving them on, removing the rest of the clothes from her luscious body and waiting for those long legs to wrap around him, boots and all, with the suede rubbing against his skin, the scratch of the heels down his back.

      Hearing Isobel clear her throat, he forced his way back to the present, his eyes back up to her heated face.

      ‘So...’ He leant back, stretching long legs out in front of him. ‘Am I allowed to ask why the change of heart?’

      Isobel shifted uncomfortably in her seat. ‘It’s not a change of heart.’

      ‘What, then?’

      He could see her struggling to find the right words. Her lips, he noticed, were still swollen from the force of their kiss—a kiss that had affected them both equally, no matter how much Isobel tried to cover it up.

      ‘This is just for curiosity’s sake, you understand. I will obviously respect your decision, no matter what the reason.’

      ‘I know that.’

      ‘So...?’ he repeated.

      Goddammit, why didn’t she have the guts just to come out with it? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t worked it out for himself by now anyway.

      Impatience, and a possessiveness he didn’t want to acknowledge, made his voice a growl. ‘Perhaps you would like me to make it easier for you?’

      At this, Isobel’s green eyes shot up from where they had been watching her hands twisting in her lap. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘You’ve met someone else.’ Orlando was surprised by the way just saying those words made him want to go out and punch something—hard. ‘A new boyfriend?’

      ‘Ha!’

      Isobel’s bitter laugh, coupled with the look of astonishment on her face, told him he’d got that wrong and for a fleeting moment relief washed over him.

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Orlando.’

      Was that so ridiculous? They hadn’t seen each other for over a month. Plenty of time for some young gun to step in and claim Isobel for his prize. But it would seem that wasn’t the case. Orlando’s clenched fists loosened momentarily, before tightening again as another thought took hold.

      ‘An old boyfriend, then?’ His eyes narrowed, piercingly intense now as he waited for her answer. ‘Perhaps someone you failed to mention when we were on Jacamar?’

      ‘Of course not!’ Isobel straightened her spine, tossing back her head so that the mane of hair gleamed richly. ‘I would never have slept with you if I had had a boyfriend. What sort of a person do you take me for?’

      Orlando shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Isobel, you tell me. Presumably not the same person I knew on Jacamar. Because she appeared to enjoy my company every bit as much as I did hers.’

      ‘I did!’ Her reply came out in a burst of anguish before she lowered her voice in soft confession. ‘Of course I did.’

      She turned her head to one side, but not before Orlando had caught sight of the flush of heat that had flooded her face. He waited, watching with cold interest as she struggled to find her composure.

      ‘I’m not denying that what happened between us was...mutual.’ The intensity of his gaze demanded more. ‘Was...good, in fact. But that was in the past. Circumstances have changed.’

      ‘Evidently.’

      He didn’t have time for this. Orlando felt what little patience he’d had march out of the door.

      Pushing back his chair, he drew himself up to his full height and looked down on this infuriating woman. ‘Look, Isobel, I’m not here to mess about or to play games. I’ve only got a short time in London and I thought it would be nice to spend some of it with you. Even if it’s just dinner. But I’m certainly not going to force your hand.’

      Standing with his feet apart he folded his arms decisively across his chest.

      ‘If you have other plans, or would rather not, that’s fine too. Just say the word.’

      ‘Two words, actually, Orlando.’

      Orlando narrowed his eyes, something about the tortured expression clouding Isobel’s face halting the pumped up pride in his chest, preventing any sharp retort from escaping. Instead he grew very still.

      ‘Go on.’

      Isobel dragged in a deep breath and he found himself willing her to just damn well come out with it. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for the words when they eventually came.

      ‘I’m pregnant.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘PREGNANT?’

      Isobel watched as Orlando’s face turned to stone, his features hardening, his jaw clenching.

      ‘No.’ Getting to his feet, he stared down at her, his body rigid with tension. ‘You can’t be.’

      ‘It’s true, Orlando.’ Isobel heard her reply through the roar in her ears—flat, dull, as if spoken by somebody else.

      ‘And I am the father?’

      Pain lanced through her. Did he really know her so little that he had to ask that humiliating question?

      She sat up straight, bracing herself, meeting his penetrating gaze with icy contempt. ‘Yes, Orlando, you are the father. Considering you are the only person I have ever had sex with, I think we can take that as definite.’

      Orlando’s eyes narrowed with stunned disbelief. ‘The only one? You mean...?’

      ‘Yes, exactly that. I was a virgin, Orlando.’

      Darkness twisted his handsome features. ‘I didn’t know.’ Then, more harshly, ‘Why the hell didn’t you say?’

      ‘Why would I?’ Isobel replied, with a calm that threatened to shatter like glass. ‘It was irrelevant. It still is irrelevant.’

      ‘Not to me, it isn’t.’ Cursing under his breath, Orlando shook his head, then raised a hand to his brow.

      ‘And this pregnancy... You are quite sure about it?’

      ‘Quite sure.’

      She let her eyes slide to the floor, to the pair of handmade Italian shoes that were planted in front of her.

      The shoes moved a couple of steps away and, raising her eyes again, Isobel saw Orlando raking a hand through his hair, his expression one of abject horror.

      ‘The split condom?’ He fired the question at her as the spinning cogs of his mind whirred to find an explanation.

      Isobel gave a small nod. ‘It has to be.’

      She had been over it a hundred times, convinced this had to be the only answer. During one of their many mad, passionate, crazy lovemaking sessions on the island of Jacamar she had heard Orlando curse, then reach out for another condom before pulling her back into his arms. She remembered the raw panting of his breath, the pounding of his heart beneath his ribcage as he straddled her once more, intent on finishing where he had left off, taking them both soaring to the heights of ecstasy they’d so badly craved.

      As