Page 48 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
Carrie felt sad. She shook her head. ‘Not me. My price is my baby being born healthy and having enough to live on and get by.’
‘Without me.’
‘I’m not saying that. I would want you to be part of his or her life.’
Massimo paced back and forth. He stopped and looked at Carrie. ‘I might never have planned on having a family, because I don’t want to pass down whatever destructive genes I might carry, but I will not shirk my responsibility.’
Carrie’s heart lurched. ‘You don’t carry any destructive genes.’
Massimo dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. ‘I need to know that you are both safe and well. I need to be able to control the PR in case something is leaked to the press. Do you have any idea of what a child of mine stands to inherit? This isn’t just about you any more, Carrie.’
She balked at that. She really hadn’t got her head around the fact that her baby would be heir to a vast legacy.
She put her hand over her belly instinctively, as if to shield the child within from its own future. And a reluctant father.
And then something came to her—a compromise. She said carefully, ‘It’s clear now that whatever was between us is...over?’
‘Yes.’
The speed with which he agreed sent a little knife into her gut, but she ignored it. It was better this way. What if he actually tried to charm her into marrying him? She wouldn’t have a hope. At least he was being honest.
‘I have a solution...if you’re willing to agree to it.’
Six weeks later
Massimo pulled his car into the forecourt of his London home. He was tense. He’d been tense for weeks now. Tense and something else he didn’t quite want to admit to. But he knew what it was: sexual frustration. A sexual frustration that only one woman could alleviate.
He got out of the car. A distinct chill in the air and the leaves on the ground foretold of winter settling in, but he noticed none of that. He approached the immaculately glossy black front door and it opened as if operated by some kind of magical device. But there was no magic—just his housekeeper, Carrie, on the threshold. She was dressed in her uniform of black shirt and black trousers. Flat shoes. Blonde hair pulled back neatly in a bun at the base of her neck. No overt make-up. No jewellery.
She had no discernible expression on her face. ‘Welcome back, sir.’
The sense of déjà-vu was strong enough to almost knock him backwards. Had he in fact imagined the last couple of months? Had he imagined the best sex he’d ever had?
No.His blood was humming to see her again. The one woman he wanted and the one woman he couldn’t have.
He looked at her midriff. Was it thicker? With his child?
An unsettling feeling of pride took him unawares.
He’d spent the last six weeks mired in crisis after crisis that had kept him from coming back to London.
He’d spent the last six weeks trying not to think about the fact that he was going to be a father, whether he liked it or not.
On the one hand he had to admit he’d welcomed the distraction, but on the other hand he’d felt rudderless. And for the first time in his lifelonely. A new concept.
But every time he’d spoken to Carrie on the phone she’d been breezy, as if there was nothing strange about the fact that they’d agreed to her continuing to work as his housekeeper. He’d only accepted her proposal because it was that or she was going to leave entirely and make her own way.
He walked into the house. Her scent caught him. The same scent. Uncomplicated. But nothing about this situation was uncomplicated. Her calmness made him feel volatile.
He said, ‘Can we talk? In my office?’
‘Of course,’ she said smoothly. ‘Shall I bring you a coffee?’
Massimo felt like snapping,No, get someone else to bring it, but he forced himself to be civil. ‘Yes, sure, a coffee would be lovely. Thank you.’
Carrie went towards the kitchen and Massimo undid and ripped off his tie as he went to his office. He took off his jacket and paced back and forth, full of restless energy in spite of a transatlantic flight.
A light knock on the door and Carrie came in with a tray. She put it down on the table and stood back.
