Page 56 of Pregnant and Stolen by the Tycoon

His gaze met hers with solemn contemplation, long enough for her to squirm.

‘Is it a social cue I’m missing? A rule that says you have to endure someone you dislike?’

Something hard chased across his face. ‘It’s not that simple.’

‘Isn’t it? You don’t like him, so don’t invite him.’

‘Sometimes circumstances demand we put our emotions aside.’

As he’d done with her? Was there a logical conclusion she was missing? Something deeper?

‘Are...are you trying to prove something to yourself, Seve?’ she asked.

He stiffened. ‘What if I am?’

Her heart lurched then ached for him.

He’d listened to her past without judgement. Told her it was time to step into the light because she deserved it. Wasn’t it time he did the same too? If that meant confronting his uncle, then wasn’t she selfish to protest? If this thing they were doing was ultimately to succeed, mutual support was imperative.

She nodded. ‘Then let him come. If only to witness first-hand his failure to subjugate you.’

A jolt went through him, as if her words had shocked him. When he started to frown, she rushed on. ‘Besides, with the number of guests attending, spending minimal time with him shouldn’t be hard at all.’

His mouth quirked without humour. ‘Your faith in me is touching,pequeña. Unfortunately, he isn’t a man who likes to be ignored.’

‘If you’re telling me to act a certain way around him, I can’t guarantee I will.’

For the first time in the last few tense minutes, his lips quirked in a genuine smile. ‘I would prefer you to be exactly who you are.’

Genie’s spine melted again and she realised she’d started to tense up again. Resisting the absurd urge to smile back, she nodded. ‘I will. Thank you.’

Seve watched her for a few more charged minutes. Then he inclined his head. ‘Sleep well,mi dulce. I will see you at the altar,’ he said.

She nodded, her emotions too overwhelming to form words.

With sure strides he went to the door. Opened it. Then looked over his shoulder. ‘A lot can happen in thirty-six hours. Ensure that you not turning up isn’t one of them.’

Far from being annoyed by his high-handedness, she caught the barest hint of vulnerability in that statement. It was what kept her buoyed that night, and the next.

Right up to the moment Lita kissed her gently on her cheek on the morning of her wedding, told her to take a moment if she needed it.

Right up to the moment she stepped out onto the terrace, dressed in her wedding gown, ready to marry the father of her child.

And the tendrils of uncertainty set in.

CHAPTER NINE

‘NONEEDTOstart a war yet, friend. She’s only nine minutes late. I’m told an hour, even two, is standard operating procedure for a bride’s tardiness. Of course, that’s a theory I never intend to test.’

Seve shot a glare at the man he’d chosen as his best man. The man who was gently teasing him because of that one flicker of his gaze to the terrace doors. Fine, perhaps it’d been more than one.

He could count the number of his true friends on the fingers of one hand.

Alessio Montaldi was one of them.

Although their paths crossed in person only a handful of times in any given year, the flint-eyed Sicilian had an outlook on life that Seve found...agreeable. He possessed a familiar single-mindedness, and by all whispered accounts he’d pulled himself up from dire circumstances as a child to become a formidable businessman.

But what impressed Seve most was that Montaldi held his past close to his chest, just as Seve did. Somehow they’d formed a friendship from behind their individual impenetrable walls.

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