A Facade to Shatter (5 page)

He turned his head and stared off into space. His profile was sharp, handsome. His hair was still cut in that military style, short and cropped close. On him, it was perfect. Not for the first time, she wondered
what he’d seen in her. No doubt he was wondering the same thing.

“You seem to have it all thought out,” he said evenly. Coldly.

Lia clutched the glass in her hands. “Not really. All I know is we created a baby together. And our baby deserves to have both parents in his or her life.”

It was the one thought that had sustained her on the long trip from Sicily. The one thing she’d had to cling to when everything else was falling apart.

Zach would want his child. She’d told herself that over and over.

But she didn’t really know if it was true.

What if he was exactly like her father and just didn’t care about the life he’d helped to create? Despair rose up inside her soul. How could this be the same man she’d lain in bed with? That man had been warm, mysterious, considerate. He wouldn’t abandon a helpless baby.

But this man …

She shivered. This one was cold and hard and mean.

He looked at her evenly. Across the room, a few people sat at tables or lounged at the bar. One woman leaned in toward the man across from her and said something that made him laugh. How Lia envied that woman. She was with a man who wanted her, a man who was happy she was there.

“I don’t know what you expect, Lia, but I’m not the father type. Or the husband type.” His voice was low and icy, his emotions so carefully controlled she had no idea if he felt anything at all.

“You don’t have a choice about being a father,” she said, her throat aching.

His dark eyes glittered. And then he smiled. A cruel smile. “There is always a choice. This is the twenty-first century, not the dark ages. You don’t have to have this child. You don’t have to keep this child.”

His words seared into her. Lia shot to her feet and clutched her tiny purse to her like a shield. Her hands were trembling. Her body was trembling.

“I want this baby, Zach. I intend to give my child the best life possible. With or without you,” she added, her throat tightening over the words. Though she didn’t know how she was going to do that. She had nothing. The money she had from her mother wasn’t in her control. She didn’t even know how much there was; her grandfather had always managed it. Now, she supposed, Alessandro was managing it.

She didn’t really know Alessandro, but he was her grandfather’s handpicked successor. And if he was anything like Salvatore had been, then he was not a man you demanded anything from.

When she walked out of here, she had nothing more than she’d walked in with. The bit of cash she’d saved
from her allowance and the credit card on her grandmother’s account. She kept hoping her grandmother wouldn’t notice the charges, though she had no idea how much longer that could last. She’d fled while her grandmother was out of town, but Teresa would return any day and find Lia gone.

Then what? The family would shut down her ability to spend a dime other than her cash. Then someone would come for her. Lia shuddered.

Her heart thundered while Zach stared her down.
Please
, she silently begged.
Please don’t reject us. Please don’t send us back there.

His eyes did not change. There was no warmth, no sympathy. No feeling at all. She’d been too hasty with that ultimatum. Too stupid.

“Without me,” he said, his voice low and measured.

She considered him for a long moment, her eyes pricking with tears, her breath whooshing in and out of her chest as she fought to maintain control. He was a bastard. A horrible, rotten bastard.

What had happened to the man who’d been frightened and alone in that ballroom back in Palermo? The man who’d been vulnerable, and who’d dropped his military medal because he must believe, on some level, that he didn’t deserve it?

She’d come here with such hope for the future.
She’d come here expecting to find the man who had charmed her and made her feel special.

But this man was not the same man. She despised him in that moment. Despised herself for being so weak and needy that she’d had sex with a stranger—not once, but many times over two days. It was as if she’d wanted to challenge fate, as if she’d been laughing and daring life to knock her in the teeth one more time.

Well, it certainly had, hadn’t it? She’d let herself feel something for a man she didn’t know, let herself believe there was more to it than simple biology. Not love, certainly not, but … something. Some feeling that was somehow more than she should have felt for a man she’d only just met.

She was so naive.

The pain sliced into her heart. “I spoke with Taylor Carmichael after you left Sicily. She thinks you are a good man,” Lia told him. Something flickered in his gaze, yet he said nothing. “But I think she doesn’t really know you the way she thinks she does.”

She turned and headed for the exit, though the door was a blur through her tears. One of the patrons in the bar looked up as she passed. He grinned at her, an eyebrow lifting, but she kept walking, her entire world crumbling apart. She hoped Zach would stop her. Prayed he would.

Prayed that she was wrong and he was just very surprised and not reacting well.

But she reached the door and tugged it open, and still he wasn’t behind her. Lia stepped into the corridor and hurried down it, her heels sinking into the plush carpet. And then she was outside, nodding to the doorman’s query if she would like a taxi. Here, the world moved as it had before. Nothing had changed. Inside her soul, however, everything was different.

She was pregnant. She was alone.

She wished she had someone to talk to—a friend, a sister, anyone who would listen—but that was wishful thinking. She’d never had anyone to talk to.

A taxi glided up the rounded drive and the doorman opened it with a flourish. Lia handed him a few dollars and then slid inside and turned her head away from the elegant building as the taxi drove away. She refused to look back. That part of her life was over.

L
IA DIDN
’
T SLEEP WELL
. She’d returned to her hotel, ordered room service—soup and crackers—and then taken a hot bath and climbed into bed with the television remote. She’d fallen asleep almost instantly, but then she’d awakened when it was still dark out. She lay there and stared at the ceiling.

Her entire life was crashing around her ears, and there was nothing she could do about it. Zach had rejected her. She had no choice but to return to Sicily. No choice but to tell her grandmother everything that had happened. She could only pray that Alessandro was a better man than her grandfather had been, and that he wouldn’t force her to marry someone she didn’t love simply for the sake of protecting the family reputation

She didn’t hold out much hope, actually.

She put her hand over her still-flat belly. What was she going to do? Where was she going to go? If she
tried to keep running, the Correttis would find her. She couldn’t melt away and become anonymous. She couldn’t find a job and raise her child alone. She had no idea how to begin. She had no skills, no advanced education. She’d never worked a day in her life.

But she would. She would, damn it, if that’s what it took. She wasn’t half-bad with plants. Maybe she could get a job in a nursery, or in someone’s garden. She could prune plants, coax forth blooms, mulch and pot and plan seasonal beds.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Tears filled her eyes and she dashed them away angrily. Eventually, she fell asleep again. When she woke this time, it was full daylight. She got up and dressed. She thought about ordering room service again, but she needed to be careful with her expenses. She would go and find a diner somewhere, a place she could eat cheaply.

And then she would figure out what to do.

Lia swept her long hair into a ponytail and grabbed her purse. She was just about to open the door when someone knocked on it. The housekeeper, no doubt. She pulled open the door.

Except it wasn’t the housekeeper.

Lia’s heart dipped into her toes at the sight of Zach on the threshold. But then it rose hotly as anger beat
a pulse through her veins. He’d been so cruel to her last night.

“What do you want?” she asked, holding the door tight with one hand. Ready to slam it on him.

“To talk to you.”

He was so handsome he made her ache. And that only made her madder. Was she really such a pushover for a pretty face? Was that how she’d found herself in this predicament? The first man to ever pay any real attention to her had the body of a god and the face of an angel—was it any wonder she’d fallen beneath his spell?

This time she would be strong. She gripped the door hard, her knuckles whitening. “I understood you the first time. What more can you have to say?”

He blew out a breath, focused on the wall of windows behind her head. “I called Taylor.”

Her heart throbbed with a new emotion. Jealousy. “And this concerns me how?”

“You know how, Lia. Let me in so we can talk.”

She wanted to say no, wanted to slam the door in his face—but she couldn’t do it. Wordlessly, she pulled the door open. Then she turned her back on him and went over to the couch to sit and wait. He came inside and stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets.

“You went to see Taylor,” he said. “To find out where I lived.”

She lifted her chin. “I knew you lived in Washington, D.C. You told me so.”

“Yes, but it’s a big city. And you needed an address.”

She toyed with the edge of her sleeve. “I’d have found you. You did tell me about your father, if you recall.”

But it would have been much harder, which was why she’d gone to see Taylor. And how embarrassing that had been. She’d had to explain to a complete stranger that she needed to find Zach because she had something to tell him.

Taylor hadn’t accepted that excuse. She’d demanded to know more. Lia hadn’t blamed her, since she was Zach’s friend, but it was still a humiliating experience. Taylor hadn’t actually believed her—until she’d produced the medal. Lia still wasn’t certain that Taylor believed everything, but she’d relented at that point because she’d believed enough.

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he said.

Lia swallowed. What could she say?
I had no choice? My family will be furious? I’m afraid?

“A baby needs two parents,” she said. “And a man should know if he’s going to be a father.”

“And just what did you expect me to do about it, sugar?”

Irritation zipped through her like a lash.
Sugar
wasn’t an endearment, spoken like this; it was a way of keeping her at a distance. Of objectifying her. “You know my name. I’d prefer you use it.”

His eyes flashed. “Lia, then. Answer the question.”

She folded her arms and looked toward the windows. She could see the white dome of the Capitol building sitting on the hill. Why had she chosen this hotel? It was far too expensive. If her grandmother cut off her credit cards, she’d be doing dishes in the hotel kitchen for the next ten years just to pay for one night.

“I thought you would want to know.”

“You could have called.”

She swung back to look at him. “Are you serious? Would you want this kind of news over the phone?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled something from his rear pocket and tapped it on his palm. “How much money do you want, Lia?”

Her heart turned to stone in her chest as she realized he was holding a checkbook. And though she needed money—desperately—it hurt that he thought all he needed to do was buy her off.

And it hurt that he didn’t want this child growing inside her. That he could so easily shove aside that
connection and have nothing to do with a person who was one half of him.

My God, she’d really chosen well, hadn’t she?

“You think I came here for money?” It would solve her most immediate problem, but it wouldn’t really solve anything. She’d still be single and pregnant, and her family would still be furious—and the Correttis had a long arm.

“Didn’t you?”

Lia stood. She had to fold her arms over her middle to hide their trembling. “Get out,” she said, fighting the wave of hysteria bubbling up inside her.

He took a step toward her and then stopped. The checkbook disappeared in his jeans again. He looked dark and broody and so full of secrets he frightened her. And yet a part of her wanted, desperately, to slide into his arms and experience that same exhilaration she had back in Sicily.

“You expect marriage,” he said, almost to himself. “That’s why you came.”

It seemed so silly when spoken aloud like that, but she couldn’t deny the truth of it. She had thought she would race to D.C., tell Zach she was pregnant and he would be so happy he’d want to take care of her and the baby forever.

Lia closed her eyes. What was wrong with her? Why was she always looking for acceptance and affection
where there was none? Why did she think she needed a man, any man, in her life anyway?

“This is your baby in here,” she said, spreading her hand over her abdomen. “How can you not want it?”

He raked a hand through his hair and turned away from her. Once more, she was studying his beautiful, angry profile.

“Assuming what you say is true, I’m not good father material.” He said it quietly, with conviction, and her heart twisted in her chest.

Still, she couldn’t allow sympathy for the pain in his voice to deflect her from the other part of what he’d said. “If you don’t believe me, why are you here? Do you usually offer to pay women to get them to go away?”

He turned back to her, his expression cool. “I’ve encountered this situation before, yes. It has never been true, by the way.” He spread his hands wide. “But my family name encourages the deception.”

Lia stiffened. “I really don’t care who your family is,” she said tightly. “I did not come here for them.”

“Then what do you want, Lia?”

She swallowed. She’d thought—naively, of course—there had been something between them in Palermo. Something more than just simple animal attraction. She’d thought he might be glad to see her. God, she was such a fool.

The only thing she had was the truth.

“My family will be very angry when they find out,” she said softly. “And Alessandro will likely marry me off to one of his business associates to prevent a scandal.” She dropped her gaze and smoothed her hand over her belly again. “I suppose I could deal with that if it were only me. But I’m afraid for my baby. A Sicilian man won’t appreciate a wife who is pregnant with another man’s child.”

She could feel his gaze on her and she lifted her head, met the tortured darkness of his eyes. And the heat. It surprised her to find heat there, but it was indisputable. The heat of anger, no doubt.

“You know this to be true,” she said. “You are part Sicilian yourself.”

“A small part, but yes, I know what you mean.”

She could have breathed a sigh of relief—except she didn’t think he’d changed his mind about anything. “Then you will not want your child raised by another man. A man who will not love him or her, and who will resent the baby’s presence in his household.”

Zach was still. “You should have chosen better,” he said.

She blinked. It was not at all the response she’d anticipated. “I beg your pardon?”

“That night. You should have chosen to leave instead of stay.”

She’d bared her fears to him and this was what he had to say. Anger spiked in her belly. “It takes two, Zach. You were there, too.”

He took a step toward her, stopped. His hands flexed at his sides. “Yes, and I tried to send you away, if you will recall. Considering how we first met, you should have run far and fast.”

Her skin was hot—with shame, with anger, with self-recrimination. “It’s not all my fault. Perhaps you should have tried harder.”

As if anything would have induced her to leave after the way he’d looked at her: as if he wanted to devour her. It had been such a novel experience that she’d only wanted more.

“I should have,” he said. “But I was weak.”

“This baby is yours,” she said, a thread of desperation weaving through her. If he walked out now, if he sent her back to Sicily, what would become of her and the baby? She couldn’t face her cousin’s wrath. Her grandmother would do what she could, but even Teresa Corretti would do what the head of the family dictated in the end. And he would dictate that she not have a child out of wedlock. Or he would throw her out and cut her off without a cent.

For a moment, she contemplated that option. It would be … heavenly, in a way. She would be free of
the Correttis, free of the pain and anger that went along with being the outsider in her family.

Except she knew it wouldn’t happen that way. Salvatore Corretti had ruled his family with an iron fist. And no wayward granddaughter would have ever brought shame on the family name in such a way. A Corretti grandson could father illegitimate children all day long, and he would not have cared. Let one of his granddaughters get pregnant, with no man in sight, and he most certainly would have come unglued.

Alessandro was a Corretti male and would be no different. He’d learned at their grandfather’s knee how to run this family and she could not take the risk he was somehow more enlightened. He’d never been enlightened enough to pay attention to her in all these years, which told her a lot about how he already felt about her. Add in the humiliation of his aborted wedding, and she was certain he was in no mood to be sympathetic.

“How can you be sure, Lia?”

She had to give herself a mental shake to retrieve the thread of the conversation. He wanted to know how she could be sure the baby was his, as if she was the kind of woman who had a different sexual partner every night.

“Because I am. Because I’ve been with no one else.”

He swore softly.

Her cheeks heated. Hot emotion whipped through her. She was tired of feeling guilty, tired of feeling as if she was the one who’d done something wrong. She felt snappish.

“This isn’t ideal for me, either, you know. I didn’t ask to get pregnant, especially not my first time ever having sex—”

She broke off as she realized what she’d said. His face grew thunderous. He closed the distance between them, stopped just short of grabbing her. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. “What did you say?”

Lia’s heart pounded. Adrenaline roared through her veins. She felt light-headed. “Nothing,” she whispered as his eyes darkened. “It was nothing.”

“You told me that night it had been a long time… .” His voice was diamond-edged.

“I thought if I told you the truth, you’d send me away.”

He swallowed, hard. “I would have. I should have anyway.” His gaze dropped, his dark lashes dipping to cover his beautiful eyes. “I thought something was … different with you. But it had been so long since I’d been with anyone that I dismissed my intuition. You didn’t act like a virgin, but you felt like one when I …”

He swore again, his eyes meeting hers once more.
“I’d have done things differently if I’d known. Been more gentle. You should have told me.”

Lia couldn’t stop herself from lifting a hand and sliding it along the bare skin of his arm. It was the first time she’d touched him, really touched him, in a month. And the electric sizzle ricocheting through her body told her just how little had changed for her.

“I should have. I know it. But everything was so surreal, and I was afraid it would end. You were the first person to make me feel wanted in a very long time. I liked that feeling.”

He moved away from her, went over and sank down on a chair. Then he sat forward and put his head in his hands. Lia didn’t say anything. She didn’t move, though her heart throbbed at the sight of him looking so overwhelmed.

“This is not what I expected to happen at this point in my life,” he said to the floor.

“I don’t think either of us did,” she replied, swallowing. “And though I could make it all go away with a visit to a doctor, as you intimated earlier, I can’t do that. It’s not who I am or what I want.”

He lifted his head. “No, I know that.” He blew out a breath, swore. And then he stood again, his presence nearly overwhelming her as his eyes flashed fire. “The press will have a field day with this.”