‘Are you pregnant?’
The neutrality in his voice was absolute.
But it cost him every ounce of effort. His mind had slammed shut. Totally shut. It was essential.
He heard her take a breath.
Was it him, or did the breath seem to take for ever?
Then—‘No,’ she answered.
He felt relief sheet out, like a flash flame through his consciousness.
‘But…’ She was speaking again. ‘But if I were, what…what would…what…?’
‘But you’re not.’ His voice was flat. Inside, he was nailing something down, very hard, very instant. ‘So idle speculation of this kind is pointless. Especially since you are not going to get pregnant—are you, Vanessa?’
He looked straight at her, into those wide, expressionless eyes.
Too expressionless?
He felt that thing he’d nailed down so fast, so hard, strain against him, but he ignored it. Instead, he directed every ounce of his mental focus on to what he said next.
‘If you’re concerned about your current method of contraception it can be changed. Go to the doctor this afternoon and sort something else.’ He made a heroic effort to inject a lighter note into this conversation from hell. ‘I’ll even put up with condoms if it makes you happy. Now, isn’t that a sacrifice?’ He forced a smile to his lips.
But she didn’t smile back. Her eyes were still staring at him, still quite expressionless.
A shaft of annoyance speared through him.
Though he didn’t want to, he knew it was time to get tough. And that annoyed him even more. Never in all the time Vanessa had been with him had he thought he was going to have to have one of these damn conversations with her. He’d thought she knew better.
Evidently not.
Maybe all women were the same, after all, whatever the appearances to the contrary.
He sat up, reaching for the bathrobe he’d abandoned after showering when he’d got back from the airport. Standing up, he shrugged it on, and belted the tie.
Then he stood, looking down at her, so he could get the message across. He didn’t want to do it, but it had to be done. God, who knew better than him that it had to be done?
He took a sharp intake of breath and began.
‘Vanessa, I’ve told you this before—you’re the best mistress I’ve ever had, and I appreciate you considerably. But—’ His eyes bored down into hers, nailing home the message. ‘This is a very big but, and you have to take it on board—I am not going to marry you. Under any circumstances. So, please, do not try and bargain with a child’s life in order to achieve that end. Because if I have the slightest suspicion that you are trying to play that game then you are out. OK? Totally out. No hesitation, no second chances. Nothing. Out.’
For one long, level moment he stood, looking down at her where she lay in his bed, ripe from his lovemaking.
Her face was expressionless.
So was his.
‘Out,’ he repeated, the warning sounding like a hammer blow.
Then, turning on his heel, he stalked into the en suite bathroom.
There was an old black and white movie playing on the huge plasma screen TV in the lounge, but Vanessa wasn’t watching it. She was staring at the flickering images, but she wasn’t seeing them.
She wasn’t doing anything, except sitting, curled up on the sofa, while the rain beat on the closed terrace windows, the wind buffeted the high penthouse apartment.
Markos was gone. Gone to his offices in the City, whisked away in his chauffeured car, the faithful Taki and Stelios in attendance as usual. A rich man, with a rich man’s things to do.