that?’
‘Can’t I? Perhaps it’s the first clear-headed thought I’ve had in a long time, now that I’m no longer completely mesmerised by your pale skin and witchy eyes.’ He shook his head like a man who was emerging from a deep coma. ‘Now I’m beginning to wonder whether something like this was in your sights all along.’
Darcy felt foreboding icing her skin. ‘What are you talking about?’ she whispered.
‘I’ve often wondered,’ he said harshly, ‘what you might give a man who has everything. Another house, or a faster car?’ He shook his head. ‘No. Material wealth means nothing when you have plenty. But innocence—ah! Now that is a very different thing.’
‘You’re not making sense.’
‘Think about it. What is a woman’s most prized possession, cara mia?’ The Italian words of endearment dripped like venom from his lips. ‘Sì. I can see from your growing look of comprehension that you are beginning to understand. Her virginity. Precious and priceless and the biggest bartering tool in the market. And hasn’t it always been that way?’
‘Renzo.’ She could hear the desperation in her voice now but she couldn’t seem to keep it at bay. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Sometimes I would ask myself,’ he continued, still in that same flat tone, ‘why someone as beautiful and sensual as you—someone hard-up and working in a dead-end job—hadn’t taken a rich lover to catapult herself out of her poverty before I came along.’
Desperation morphed into indignation. ‘You mean...use a man as a meal ticket?’
‘Why are you looking so shocked—or is that simply an expression you’ve managed to perfect over the years? Isn’t that what every woman does ultimately—feed like a leech off a man?’ His black gaze roved over her. ‘But not you. At least, not initially. Did you decide to deny yourself pleasure—to look at the long game rather than the lure of instant gratification? To hold out for the richest man available, who just happened to be me—someone who was blown away by your extraordinary beauty coupled with an innocence I’d never experienced before?’ He gave a cynical smile. ‘But you were cunning, too. I see that now. For a cynic like me, a spirited show of independence was pretty much guaranteed to wear me down. So you refused my gifts. You bought cheap clothes and budget airline tickets while valiantly offering me the money you’d saved. What a touching gesture—the hard-up waitress offering the jaded architect a handful of cash. And I fell for it—hook, line and sinker! I was sucked in by your stubbornness and your pride.’
‘It wasn’t like that!’ she defended fiercely.
‘You must have thought you’d hit the jackpot when I gave you the key to my flat and bought you a diamond necklace,’ he bit out. ‘Just as I did when you gave yourself so willingly to me and I discovered you were a virgin. I allowed my ego to be flattered and to blind myself to the truth. How could I have been so blind?’
Darcy felt her head spin and that horrible queasy feeling came washing over her again, in giant waves. This couldn’t be happening. In a minute she would wake up and the nightmare would be over. But it wouldn’t, would it? She was living her nightmare and the proof was right in front of her eyes. In the midst of her confusion and hurt she saw the look of something like satisfaction on Renzo’s face. She remembered him mentioning his parents’ divorce and how bitterly he’d said that women could never be trusted. Was he somehow pleased that his prejudices had been reinforced and he could continue thinking that way? Yes, he was, she realised. He wanted to believe badly of her.
She made one last attempt because wasn’t there still some tiny spark of hope which existed—a part which didn’t want to let him go? ‘None of that—’
‘Save your lying words because I don’t want to hear them. You’re only upset because I came home early and found you out. How were you going to explain the absence of the necklace, Darcy?’ he bit out. ‘A “burglary” while you were out shopping? Shifting the blame onto one of the people who service these apartments?’
‘You think I’d be capable of that?’
‘I don’t know what you’re capable of, do I?’ he said coldly. ‘I just want you to listen to what I’m going to say. I’m going out and by the time I get back I want you out of here. Every last trace of you. I don’t ever want to see your face again. Understand? And for what it’s worth—and I’m sure you realise it’s a lot—you can keep the damned necklace.’
‘You’re not going to go to the police?’
‘And advertise exactly what kind of woman my girlfriend really is and the kind of low-life company she keeps? That wouldn’t exactly do wonders for my reputation, would it? Do whatever you’d planned to do with it all along.’ He paused and his mouth tightened as his black gaze swept down over her body. ‘Think of it as payment for services rendered. A clean-break pay-off, if you like.’
It was the final straw. Nausea engulfed her. She could feel her knees buckling and a strange roaring in her head. Her hand reached out to grab at the nearest chair but she missed and Darcy felt herself sliding helplessly to the ground, until her cheek was resting on the smooth silk of the Persian rug and her eyes were level with his ankles and the handmade Italian shoes which swum in and out of focus.
His voice seemed to come from a long way off. ‘And you can spare me the histrionics, Darcy. They won’t make me change my mind.’
‘Who’s asking you to change your mind?’ she managed, from beneath gritted teeth.
She saw his shadow move as he stepped over her and a minute later she heard the sound of the front door slamming shut.
And after that, thankfully, she passed out.
‘YOU CAN’T GO ON like this, Darcy, you really can’t.’
The midwife sounded both kind and stern and Darcy was finding it difficult keeping her lips from wobbling. Because stern she could handle. Stern was something she was used to. It was the kindness which got to her every time, which made her want to cover her face with her hands and howl like a wounded animal. And she couldn’t afford to break down, because if she did—she might never put herself back together again.
Her hand slipped down to her belly. ‘You’re sure my baby’s okay?’ she questioned for the fourth time.
‘Your baby’s fine. Take a look at the scan and see. A little bit on the small side perhaps, but thriving. Unlike you. You’re wearing yourself out,’ continued the midwife, a frown creasing her plump face. ‘You’re working too hard and not eating properly, by the look of you.’
‘Honestly, I’ll try harder. I’ll...I’ll cut down on my hours at work and start eating more vegetables,’ said Darcy as she rolled up her sleeve. And she would. She would do whatever it took because all she could think about was that her baby was safe. Safe. Relief washed over her in almost tangible waves as the terror she’d experienced during that noisy ambulance ride began to recede. ‘Does that mean I can go home?’
‘I wanted to talk to you about that. I’m not very happy about letting you go anywhere,’ said the midwife. ‘Unless you’ve got somebody who can be there for you.’
Darcy tried not to flinch. She supposed she could pretend she had a caring mother or protective sister or even—ha, ha, ha—a loving husband. But that would be irresponsible. Because it wasn’t just her she was looking out for any more. There was a baby growing inside her. Her throat constricted. Renzo’s baby.
She tried not to tense up as the midwife began to measure her blood pressure. Things hadn’t been easy since Renzo had left her lying on the floor of his Belgravia apartment, accusing her of histrionics before slamming the door behind him. But Darcy’s unexpected faint hadn’t been caused by grief or anger, though it had taken a