The Irresistible Royal Page 9

  In a way, her timing couldn’t be better. It would be somewhat gratifying to have Lidia in his office as the news of Stewart’s arrest came to air. The crook’s wife deserved much more than humiliation—she should be joining her husband in jail, charged with attempted blackmail after the stunt she’d pulled with her daughter.

  Certain that karma would catch up with Lidia eventually, it would be sufficient to have Lidia in his office to savour her reaction as she discovered her whole rich lifestyle was about to come crumbling down. As for her daughter...

  ‘Your Highness?’

  ‘Send her up with a member of security and have the security man wait outside my office while she’s here.’ She wouldn’t be there long, then the guard could escort her from the building.

  Standing, Marco turned to look out through the floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded him an uninterrupted view of some of the most famous landmarks in England’s capital. He’d worked damned hard to achieve his position as the youngest ever CEO of the most prestigious private bank in Europe. His position had nothing to do with his royal title or connections and everything to do with his ability. His success afforded him wealth and privileges way over and above his royal heritage, but also made him a target.

  It still aggravated him every day to know that in having sex with Chloe, he’d put himself into the position that’d allowed Lidia and her daughter to think they could blackmail him.

  Chloe Salvatore was still a thorn in Marco’s side. Everything about her needled him. She’d seemed so refreshingly unaffected. Her distress had seemed genuine when Lidia had burst in on them. His gut twisted because there was still a bloody little imp inside his head that urged him to wonder whether Chloe had been as much a victim as he’d been. The rage and indignation had pounded through him with such force that night, he’d hardly been thinking straight. All he’d been able to see was Lidia’s smugness. All he’d heard was how complicit Chloe had been.

  Slamming the door on thoughts of Chloe, he moved restlessly around his desk and buzzed through to his assistant. ‘Rose, would you please contact Miss Drysden and invite her to accompany me tonight to dinner and the theatre?’

  ‘Certainly, Your Highness.’

  ‘Book tickets for whichever show she prefers.’

  ‘I’ll get on to it as soon as Mrs Stewart arrives and I’ve shown her into your office.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Supermodel, Cynthia Drysden, was exactly who he needed tonight to try to banish all thoughts of Chloe. It was almost six weeks since the Stewart house party. Six long celibate weeks. Weeks where Marco had driven himself at work at an even more relentless pace than usual, and hadn’t said no to a single social invitation. But during that time he hadn’t been able to accept the blatant sexual invitations from any of the women he’d met.

  What he needed was a night out with the fun-loving supermodel to take his mind off the ugly memory of the incident at the Stewart party.

  The light knock at the heavy walnut door of his office set his teeth on edge.

  Lidia Stewart was here.

  ‘Yes,’ he called as his gaze flicked to the huge television screen on the wall opposite his desk. Nothing on the news bulletin yet.

  His assistant was the perfect picture of cool, professional elegance as she opened the door. ‘Prince Marco, Mrs Stewart to see you.’

  Lidia almost pushed Rose out of the way as she swept into the room in an overpowering cloud of expensive perfume and what was no doubt a designer-label cream suit. She sported a Chanel handbag, fake tan and coiffed hairstyle, and looked as though she owned the place.

  Would those flashy diamonds on her fingers be repossessed to cover some of her husband’s debt?

  ‘Thank you, Rose,’ he acknowledged.

  Rose shut the door quietly behind her and Marco leaned back, propping himself against his desk. He didn’t bother to offer Lidia a seat. ‘Well?’ He arched an eyebrow at the blonde witch who stood opposite him.

  ‘Chloe is pregnant.’

  The three words whipped at him, unleashing a host of memories which stabbed painfully right through the centre of his chest.

  Memories of an afternoon in Paris crowded his brain. He was stretched out on a bed after making love for the first time to the woman he loved. Dappled sunlight had broken through the canopy of trees outside the window, playing over her beautiful features as they’d spoken about her inability to have children.

  He’d finally been able to convince her that their deep and abiding love for one another was far more important to him than having children. After years of loving her and trying to get her to admit she returned his affections, she’d finally opened up her heart to him and accepted his marriage proposal.

  ‘Are you listening to me?’ Lidia’s shrill voice brought him back to the present. ‘I said Chloe’s pregnant.’

  He denied the words. Holding himself ramrod straight, he kept his expression neutral. ‘And?’

  A brittle laugh escaped her lips as she took her suit jacket off and draped it over the back of a chair. ‘I’m here to discuss payment, Marco.’

  Ice-cold fury dripped down his spine. ‘Go to hell, Lidia.’

  ‘Oh, I probably will,’ she said with a laugh, ‘but I’m not ready for the journey at present. What time I do have on this earth, I plan to live in style. That’s why I’m here.’ She sat down in the armchair and crossed her legs in a manner that was deliberately intended to draw his eyes to the movement.

  It was a wasted effort. He’d rather look at the legs on a piano.

  ‘Clearly you’re the father, and I’m sure you don’t want to court negative publicity, any more than you want to be saddled with the responsibility of raising a child. How much will you pay to make this little problem go away?’

  He forced his hands to remain motionless against the edge of the desk, when his reflexive action was to close them into tight fists—or better still, close them around her throat and squeeze hard. ‘There’s nothing clear about it. If your daughter’s pregnant, I’m sure any number of men could’ve fathered her child.’

  ‘Your condom broke.’

  ‘Nice try. Chloe told me she was taking an oral contraceptive.’

  ‘She was motion sick the entire flight from Los Angeles to London and it upset her hormone balance.’

  ‘That’s a very inventive story.’ And there was no way he was buying it.

  Lidia shrugged. ‘It happened. Now you have to face the consequences.’

  He replayed the way Chloe’s fingernails had scored over the latex, and wondered whether she’d deliberately used her nails to pierce the condom. Was it another twist in the elaborate scheme hatched by mother and daughter to extort money from him?

  Rage coiled through him. Rage and indignation this woman could present herself to him and make such a claim, and that her daughter could’ve aided her. ‘If she’s anything like her mother, I’d guess your daughter’s been out shagging herself silly at every opportunity in order to fall pregnant and foist the child on to me,’ he said contemptuously.

  ‘Believe me, I was tempted to suggest it,’ she told him with an unrepentant smile. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t have much influence on my daughter’s actions, and despite what I intimated the night you met her, she actually lacks the common sense to follow my suggestions.’

  Huh. ‘You’re trying to convince me now that she wasn’t part of your scheme to blackmail me?’ He shifted his stance so he appeared more relaxed. ‘Having congratulated your daughter for luring me to the library so the sex could be caught on videotape, it’s a little late for that now.’

  Lidia’s mouth tightened for a second before she said, ‘I admit I was a tad jealous when I watched you together. You were clearly really into her—both figuratively and literally.’ She gave a trill of coarse laughter. ‘Anyway, Chloe hasn’t inherited her sex drive, or her sexual skills, from me. It was blindingly obvious to me she’s woefully inexperienced.’ She tossed her blonde hair. ‘She’s spent her time in E
ngland keeping to herself and making little day trips into the countryside from the estate.’

  ‘She’s still in England?’ Why did his heart jump at the discovery Chloe was still so close?

  ‘You really think I’d let her leave before I found out whether she’d fallen pregnant with your child?’

  Did that mean they’d planned all along for a pregnancy?

  ‘I don’t give a damn one way or the other where she is.’ He spoke to Lidia, but he also tried to convince himself it was true. The fact Chloe was still with her mother underlined she’d lied when she said she was so desperate to return home.

  Inwardly his anger stirred again. It’d all been lies. Most likely every single thing that’d come out of her mouth had been a lie. Lies he’d believed.

  ‘My servants have told me that by day she’s played tourist. At night she’s had her nose buried in study material and legal work she’s brought with her. There’ve been no other lovers. You’re definitely the father, Marco.’

  ‘You’re wasting your time. I’m not buying your story.’

  ‘You won’t be able to argue with the results of a paternity test, and I’ll make sure I get a court order for one—a very public court order,’ Lidia threatened.

  A knot of unease lodged in his neck. He had no doubt this was all a hoax. Chloe had either been pregnant when they’d been together or she’d deliberately attempted to fall pregnant by someone else since so she could claim it was Marco’s child and get access to his fortune, but he’d rather avoid his name being dragged through the mud.

  His face tightened with challenge. ‘Go right ahead. It’ll be your daughter whose reputation suffers, not mine.’

  ‘You’re being foolish. Your parents certainly won’t be impressed. How will your board of directors react when they know you were irresponsible enough to impregnate a young American tourist in a one-night stand?’ She tilted her head to one side and her expression was smug. ‘There are a lot of people out there who’d feel nervous having their money tied up in an institution headed by a man who shows such irresponsibility in his private life.’

  He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘You’re wasting your time. I won’t be blackmailed.’

  ‘Chloe is understandably traumatised by this. I want you to pay for your recklessness—recklessness then heartless abandonment,’ she added, clearly winding up to a melodramatic performance. ‘She’s only young. She has her whole life ahead of her and she shouldn’t be saddled with your bastard child.’

  Marco remained unmoved. Lidia in the role of caring, avenging mother was thoroughly unconvincing.

  ‘Abortions are expensive,’ she continued as she uncrossed her legs and bent over toward her handbag. Opening it, she produced an envelope. ‘I’ll have my lawyers draw up an official contract, of course, but this is my proposal.’ She offered the envelope to him.

  For a few seconds he looked at the envelope. Then he took it from her fingers and ripped it neatly in half without even bothering to remove and read the contents. Three strides later, he’d dropped the papers into the bin.

  Lidia’s features tightened. ‘That’s your choice, Marco. If you want to declare war on us, bring it on. I won’t let her have some backyard termination, you know. You need to pay for the best doctor available for the abortion, and then you need to compensate her for her suffering and for her silence. Otherwise, be prepared for her to have your bastard kid and make a fortune telling her story to the tabloids before she takes you to court to sue for maintenance—maintenance that’ll be ongoing for years.’ She smiled. ‘Believe me, you’re better paying out now. It’ll save you in the long run.’

  A sound of derision escaped from his throat. ‘Not a penny.’

  ‘What a shame.’ She threw one hand up in the air in high drama. ‘I can see the headlines now... Prince Marco of Ralvinia Abandons his Pregnant Lover.’

  As if on cue, an image of the head office of Stewart Enterprises appeared on the television screen on the wall at Lidia’s back. Marco reached for the remote control. ‘Interesting headline you’ve come up with. Let’s see what’s making news right now.’ He indicated the screen and asked, ‘Is that your husband being escorted out of his office in handcuffs by the police?’ As Lidia turned around, he hit the audio button on the remote so they could hear the report.

  ‘In breaking news, London property developer, Barry Stewart, of Stewart Enterprises was arrested a short time ago on one hundred and seventy-seven counts of fraud.

  ‘Detectives from the fraud squad arrived at the company’s head office shortly after eleven o’clock this morning and made the arrest.

  ‘Mr Stewart, whose company was responsible for the construction of the high-rise apartment blocks in South Hampton that burned to the ground a few weeks ago, is already under investigation for negligence. It’s alleged that the fire detectors in the buildings were faulty and that the sprinkler systems fitted throughout the high-rise blocks were sub-standard. Two people lost their lives in the fire and the coroner’s office is still investigating the incident. If Mr Stewart is in any way negligent, he may also face manslaughter charges in addition to his trial for fraud.’

  Lidia sat motionless as images of her husband’s arrest and the South Hampton apartment block inferno were flashed across the screen.

  ‘If I were you, I’d be more worried about the headlines concerning your husband than any you have planned for me,’ Marco told her without mercy.

  She turned briefly to face him—eyes wide, all natural colour completely leeched out of her face beneath the layers of make-up. Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair and she turned her head back to listen to the rest of the bulletin. The station now showed a picture of Lidia and Barry on their wedding day and of their country estate.

  ‘I guess the estate won’t be his for much longer,’ Marco mused as satisfaction seeped through him.

  Lidia turned to send him a scathing look but failed miserably. Instead she just looked pathetic.

  Marco almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

  He wouldn’t feel sorry for a woman who’d not only tried to seduce him unsuccessfully, but who’d sent her daughter in to succeed where she’d failed—a woman who’d now tried to blackmail him twice.

  How the hell he’d managed to allow this woman’s daughter to impress herself upon him in the space of a heartbeat defied all logic. It shamed him, but Chloe Salvatore had bewitched him.

  Madre de Dio. How deeply was Chloe involved in the Stewarts’ scheme?

  Sternly, he told himself it didn’t matter. Chloe meant nothing to him. He’d walked away from her and she was bloody lucky he hadn’t reported her blackmail to the police. He had to believe for his own sanity that Lidia and her daughter were both toxic—that he hadn’t been misjudging Chloe.

  Lidia’s poison was obvious, but Chloe’s brand of venom was far deadlier. There’d been no acrid taste of it when he’d kissed her sweet lips, and it’d pervaded his system so thoroughly, he still awakened each night from dreams that he held her in his arms and was back inside the paradise of her body.

  Merda. He still needed to build up some immunity to her physical charms. He had to forget the intensity of the sex they’d had.

  Mind-blowing, incredible sex.

  The best sex you’ve ever had in your life. The thought taunted him before he could control it.

  With savage brutality, he slammed the lid on the box of memories that tortured him. What they’d shared had been a lie, because the woman he thought he’d been with didn’t exist. He would not remember her little groans of pleasure and the way her body had shattered around his. He would not remember anything about the night they’d shared except the way she’d set out to deceive him.

  Cynthia will be the perfect antidote to Chloe’s poison.

  The anchorman of the television network was back on screen in the studio announcing the next story. Marco pressed a button on the remote control and the screen reverted to blackness.

  The churning bitterness
inside him spilled forth as he asked Lidia coldly, ‘Would you like my assistant to order you a taxi to take you to the police station where they’re holding your husband, or do you think they would already have transferred him to one of Her Majesty’s prisons?’

  ‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ she accused as she stood up.

  ‘Do you or do you not want a taxi?’

  ‘Somehow, you’re involved in this—I can feel your satisfaction,’ she bit out as she grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair. ‘But it doesn’t change anything, Marco. Chloe is pregnant. One of my maids brought me the proof of the pregnancy test. You are the father. My God, if you’re in any way responsible for Barry’s arrest, I’ll find a way to make you pay and I’ll use the bastard baby as leverage against you.’

  Rage filled his veins—not heated anger, but rage so cold it chilled his heart. He felt his skin tighten over his cheekbones as he gritted his teeth together—knew his fury must be emanating from every pore and all too obvious to this money-grabbing bitch in front of him, because she actually shrank back into the seat.

  ‘Yes, Lidia. I was responsible for your husband’s arrest,’ he told her in clipped tones. ‘He conned a friend of mine and sent him into bankruptcy.’ His eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together tightly before he continued. ‘I was prepared to do whatever it took in order to see justice done for a wronged friend. I doubt you can even begin to imagine the lengths I’d go to in order to deliver justice to someone who wronged me.’

  He let the words hang and had the satisfaction of seeing her throat work up and down in a nervous gulp, and her hand tremble as she reached for her handbag.

  ‘Last warning. Don’t even contemplate going up against me. If you do, I’ll make sure you regret it every day for the rest of your life.’ There was definitely fear, now, in her eyes. ‘Have I made my position clear?’

  ‘Perfectly.’ One last spurt of defiance was obvious in the way her chin thrust forward. ‘You’re a cold, callous bastard, Marco. Chloe is pregnant with your child. I hope the time comes when you regret denying the child’s existence. I hope it comes to light that you’ve brought shame to the royal house of Ralvinia by spawning a bastard and denying its existence.’