Page 128 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

Despite the evidence on the screen, disbelief still sliced through him. More than disbelief.

What the hell had she been playing at, Siena Westbrook? Why come here—stand right here, in front of this very desk—tell him she was pregnant and then never follow through on paternity tests?

Why had she not simply included him in the round of DNA testing she had presumably been instigating since their confrontation here? Why get that termagant in PR to do what she had? Threaten a press scandal? Why had that been the slightest bit necessary? It made no sense.

His mouth thinned, his frown deepening. Just as it made no sense that she should throw that hysterical outburst at him when he’d confronted her at the termagant’s flat—telling him she wanted nothing to do with him. That wasn’t the message he’d got when she’d told him she was pregnant, or she wouldn’t have turned up here in the first place.

He thrust it aside. It was irrelevant. As irrelevant as her objecting to his demand for a paternity test—refusing to co-operate until, losing patience, he’d instructed his lawyers to exert the necessary pressure to get her to comply. Eventually, she had. He’d left her no option but to do so, or be hauled—expensively—into court. So finally she’d had the required blood test, and he had had the required cheek-swab. At this stage of pregnancy, nearing the end of her first trimester, there were sufficient foetal cells circulating in her system for the test to be completely non-invasive—and for the results to be ninety-nine point nine percent accurate. No room for effective doubt.

He stared at the screen, emotion still scything through him.

He’d been so sure the results would be negative. So completely sure...

And yet—

Into his head one last question shaped itself. The one that he could not avoid.

So what the hell do I do now?

CHAPTER FOUR

‘HEWANTSTOtake you out to dinner to discuss the future.’

Megan’s voice was neutral, but her observation of Siena as she made this declaration was wary.

‘It’s none of his business,’ came the terse reply. ‘And I told you not to have any more contact with him!’

‘If you won’t, I must!’ Meg shot back. ‘Look, Si, he’s got responsibilities—to the baby and to you. He knows he has to sort maintenance out—’

‘No, he does not. Megan, stay out of this. I won’t have him anywhere near me or my baby. He’s a vile, despicable jerk and he can go to hell and stay there!’

Siena’s voice was vehement. She shut her eyes. Megan kept going on and on about maintenance...

But I’m not taking a penny from him! Not a single damn penny! Not now, or ever—not after the way he’s treated me!

All she wanted to do was plan the future she was facing, find a decent enough place to live—far away from London and a million miles from Vincenzo Giansante!—see out her pregnancy, have her baby in peace, all by herself.

‘Si,please... Just meet him andtalk—’ Megan started again.

Siena’s eyes snapped open. OK, maybe that was what she should do—tell him to his face that he could go to hell. Get him off her back—and Megan too.

‘So, where and when does he want to meet?’ she heard herself asking.

‘Tomorrow night. La Rondine—and that’s a hell of a fancy restaurant, by the way. In my job I know just about every fancy restaurant in town!’ Megan’s voice relaxed. ‘I’m wondering if it’s significant that he doesn’t want you to meet at his hotel...’ Now she gave a wicked laugh. ‘Maybe he’s worried he’ll fall for your charms all over again and haul you up to his room! I have to say, Si, that you are looking totally gorgeous. You know, pregnancy really is making you bloom—just like they say it does!’

Siena threw her a fulminating glance. ‘That isn’t funny,’ she said brusquely. ‘What time does His Lordship want to summon me?’

‘Half-eight. What are you going to wear? Like I say, La Rondine is a pretty fancy place. Borrow something of mine—you can still fit into just about anything, so make the most of it before you turn into a barrage balloon!’

Siena didn’t find that amusing either. ‘I am not dressing up for him. I’ll wear whatever comes to hand first.’

She did just that—deliberately dressing down. Deliberately choosing the very top and skirt she’d worn when she’d gone to his office. Would he recognise it? Probably not—but it gave her a sense of satisfaction to do so. The only sense of satisfaction she could find right now. That and the prospect of telling him to go to hell and take his precious money with him.

She left for the restaurant, put into a taxi by Megan, with Megan’s final admonition ringing in her ears.

‘See what he’s offering but agree to nothing—that’s for the lawyers.’

Siena hadn’t bothered to answer.

---