Page 7 of Bound Enemies
Because they were clearly recalling the same thing.
“You may recall the night of my brother’s wedding,” she said after she’d loaded up a small plate with some of thepa amb tomàquet and la bomba, and had eaten a bit.
Even watching her eat…affected him. “How could I forget?”
She shot him a swift glance, then dropped her gaze again. “What you may perhaps have forgotten is that we were rather…careless.”
He had not forgotten. It had rather been the point of the exercise, at least going in, but he didn’t say that. This was not the time to unveil every possible truth. Only some of them. Only the ones he knew he could use to his advantage.
And he had to remind himself not to assume he knew where this was going—though he did. He was certain that he did. The good news about that being that he could control his reactions well ahead of having anything concrete to react to.
Theoretically, anyway.
“I am not known for my carelessness,” he said after a moment, as if he’d needed the time to sort through the reasons she might show up here and say such a thing.
Then he watched, fascinated, because she didn’t fidget. She didn’t twist her fingers around in her lap, bite her lower lip, or show any of the signs that he would have expected a woman in her position to exhibit. Instead, she seemed, if not perfectly at her ease, completely self-contained. Not scared or emotional or furious or any of the array of emotions he might have imagined she would be unable to hide.
It was fascinating.
“I’m pregnant,” she told him. Straight and to the point, and he enjoyed that flare of victory deep inside him. Not to mention the immediate response from the cock that had gotten her in this predicament—and was clearly volunteering to continue its valorous service. “Before you ask, it’s yours.”
“Did you think I was unaware you were a virgin?” he asked.
He didn’t mean to ask that either, though he was glad he had when the color grew on her face. It was the only sign she’d given so far that she was not as calm as she was pretending she was.
Because otherwise, all she did was aim that smile at him. That smile he knew was atoolshe used. Meaning she was handling herself—and him. “My understanding is that paternity is always the first question when someone turns up with an announcement like this. Especially when the father is a man of your…” Her smile became something like demure, yet never quite reached her eyes. “Consequence, I think you’d call it.”
Pau settled back against his chair. He studied her. He had been studying her for quite a while, though she couldn’t know that, and yet he couldn’t help feeling that somehow, he’d gotten it wrong. That he was missing something here, because she did not seem to be frantic over this.
That wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but it wasn’t what he’d expected.
And Pau Calixto did not generally like surprises. He preferred plans that were executed as expected. But then, Leontina had been a surprise from the start.
“I’m typically excellent at predicting behavior,” he told her after a moment that, this time, he had very much required. “And I would tell you that I would be deeply surprised indeed if, within three months, a twenty-four-year-old virgin who so as far as I’m aware very rarely leaves her father’s home suddenly embarked upon a campaign of sin and scandal. Not that it couldn’t happen. But I would think it would require more than one, single night of debauchery.”
Leontina set her small plate down on the table between them. She seemed to take her time straightening. When she did, he could no longer see any color on her face and her gaze was cool.
He found himself even more intrigued than before.
“Was it debaucherous, then?” she asked, politely, as if inquiring after the time. “I didn’t think it was, but then, as we’ve established, I have very little basis of comparison.”
That sounded significantly spicier than he would have expected from her, especially in the absence of that weaponized smile. He felt something inside him sit up and take notice, and not simply because he would very much like to get his mouth on her again.
He was, regrettably, only a man.
“We barely slept,” he reminded her, almost gently, though there was no denying the heat in his voice. He could see it reflected in her dark green gaze. “I had my mouth on every part of your body and you returned that favor. I took you in every position I could dream up. You came so many times you lost her voice.” He shook his head. “How quickly they forget.”
“Oh dear,” she replied, her voice bland.Toobland, he thought. “I didn’t realize I was so special, Pau. I thought that was…just how it was.”
Pau very nearly laughed at that. And that shocked him more than everything else that had come before. Whowasthis woman?
But there would be ample time to excavate that question. They just needed to come to terms—his terms.
“So you’re pregnant,” he said, and maybe he sounded a bit more serious than necessary. That was what happened when he nearly found himselflaughingin the middle of what should have been a straightforward exchange of information. “I’m not surprised. It is perhaps easy enough to dodge one bullet. But we did not do it only the once, did we?”
Her smile reappeared then, and Pau could not decide if that was a victory or a loss.
“There is a rather more pressing issue than what I’m sure would be a delightful amble down memory lane,” she said. He realized then that she was studying him, for a change. Or maybe it was that he was more aware of it now. “My father.”
