My Shocking Monte Carlo Confession Page 16

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Belle

  MY HAND WHIPPED UP of its own accord, Alexi’s snarled words wounding me so deeply the anger surged from nowhere before I could stop it. But as his head reared back in an instinctive reaction to avoid the slap—a reaction I knew he had learned as a boy—my hand dropped back to my side.

  I had never hit another human being in my life. And I had almost hit him. The horror of that was almost too much to bear. But as he watched me, his eyes guarded, the fortifying anger returned.

  ‘You bastard,’ I whispered. ‘You were my first lover and you are my only lover, Alexi.’

  His expression changed, going from anger to astonishment, tinged with stunned disbelief. The pain ground into my gut.

  Why had I kept my innocence a secret? Why had I ever been ashamed of my lack of experience? Suddenly I didn’t care how vulnerable it made me for him to know he was the only man I had ever wanted... Ever loved.

  I had owned the mistakes I’d made—not telling him of Cai’s existence—but he had never owned his. Because I’d never told him the truth. But, if I never did, he would always have this power over me. I would always be less than him. Why shouldn’t I own my feelings, own the love I had for him? If he didn’t want my love, he could reject me again, but I’d be damned if I’d let him ride in and claim my body, make this all about sex when for me if had always been so much more.

  ‘I’ve never slept with another man,’ I said, gritting the words out. ‘Only you. I’ve never felt for any other man what I feel for you. But that doesn’t mean you own me, not any more.’

  I could still see the staggered incredulity in his eyes and my heart shattered in my chest, just as it had a month ago. Just as it had five years ago. For so long I’d despised that foolish girl for her wayward emotions but, as I stared back at him, I didn’t despise her any more. I had been right to feel what I did. The mistake I had made was never to admit it.

  Hiding my feelings to protect myself from hurt had only allowed him to hide his too...

  ‘I’ve just told you I love you, Alexi. That I’ve always loved you. Don’t you have anything to say to me?’

  He blinked but then his face became the mask I’d seen so many times before. The mask that kept him safe. I knew that mask, because I’d worn it myself.

  ‘How can you love me?’ he finally said, sounding shocked now as well as incredulous.

  ‘Really, that’s all you have to say?’ I said.

  When he didn’t speak, I huffed out a sad laugh that tasted bitter on my tongue. I hadn’t expected a return declaration of undying love. But I had hoped for something, despite everything. One burning tear slipped over my lid and trickled down my cheek, his gaze tracking it as I brushed it away. ‘Then I guess there’s nothing more to talk about,’ I murmured.

  He didn’t believe me. He didn’t trust me. And now I knew he never would.

  I turned to go, keeping my back straight and my legs as steady as I could. But as I took a step away I heard a choked cry.

  ‘Wait! Stop...’

  He grasped my wrist, but this time he didn’t drag me back, only held on to me.

  ‘Per favore, non andare,’ he rasped. ‘Per favore, non lasciarmi.’

  My Italian wasn’t fluent, but I understood him.

  Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.

  As I turned, to my shock he dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead against the back of my hand. It was an act of supplication, of penitence so real, so powerful, so naked that the hope I had thought was dead surged back to life, firing through my heart like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

  His shoulders shuddered, and for one terrible moment I thought he might be crying. I wasn’t looking at the man any more, I realised, I was looking at the boy, who had been abandoned all those years ago by a woman who should have loved him but hadn’t loved him enough.

  I sunk to my knees too, the marble cold against my shins as I gripped his face. His hard jaw flexed against my fingers as I lifted his head, the sheen of moisture in his eyes piercing my heart.

  ‘It’s okay, Alexi, I won’t leave you,’ I said. ‘If you need me to stay.’

  His breath shuddered out on a rasp of relief and he gathered me close, squeezing my ribs, my heart pummelling my chest so hard I was sure he could feel it.

  ‘I do... I need you so much,’ he whispered, his voice raw as he spread kisses over my cheeks, my lips, my neck, worshipping me with his mouth. ‘I always have. Forgive me for never admitting it,’ he said as he drew back, cradling my face to stare into my eyes, all the love in my heart reflected in the warm blue depths of his. He sighed, the shudder of breath reverberating through my body as he gathered me close, stroked my hair and held me to his heart as if he would never let me go.

  ‘I was so scared to love you,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘So scared that if I did I would lose you, the way I lost my mother. The way I lost Remy. The way I lost you when I turned you away. Can you ever forgive me?’

  I pulled out of his embrace, the tears streaming down my cheeks now unbidden. But they were no longer tears of sadness, of heartache, they were tears of love. ‘There is nothing to forgive,’ I said, my voice thick with the happy tears.

  A small drop escaped his own eye, but even as he scrubbed it away with his fist the emotion behind it pierced my heart.

  It was a tear for us both, of sadness for all that we had suffered, for all that we had lost. And a tear of joy, for all that we had gained and would continue to gain. Together.

  ‘There is much to forgive,’ he said, but the wry smile that lifted his lips only intensified the joy. ‘But I intend to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.’

  Standing up, he offered me his hand. I took it and let him haul me off the cold stone and into his arms. The insistent heat rose to match the warm glow in my heart.

  ‘If you will let me?’ he asked, his hands settling on my waist as his gaze searched my face, still a little unsure, still so naked with need.

  Love spread through me like wildfire—for this damaged, determined, indomitable man.

  ‘Of course I will,’ I said as I flung my arms over his broad shoulders and let his soft laugh wrap around my heart.

  EPILOGUE

  Three months later

  Alexi

  THE WINTER SUN warmed my face as I stood beside my brother’s grave with Belle’s hand gripped tightly in mine and our son perched on my hip. I had never had the courage to return to this place until today, scared the immense sadness—and the terrible guilt over Remy’s death that had crippled me for so long—would return.

  The deep, aching loss was still there, of course, as I knew it always would be, but I didn’t feel hollow and empty any more. The hole in my heart was tempered by joy. Not just the remembered joy of being Remy’s brother, but the new joy of being Cai’s father and the all-consuming joy of becoming, as of an hour ago, Belle’s husband.

  I still missed my brother, I always would, and I knew Belle would too. Her slender body in the seductive white velvet wedding gown she had worn in the chapel as she’d pledged herself to me did nothing to stem the shudder of emotion running through her as her green eyes met mine. Her hand squeezed my fingers tight. Sweetly reassuring but also life-affirming.

  ‘Who are we meeting here, Daddy?’ Cai asked, his inquisitive blue eyes and that dimpled smile making my heart skip a beat. ‘I can’t see anyone.’

  ‘We can’t meet him, Cai,’ I said, my voice rough as the sense of loss sharpened. I cleared my throat, determined finally to introduce my son to his uncle, the way I should have done months ago.

  I knelt beside the grave, placing Cai gently on his feet to point out the grave stone. ‘Because sadly Remy, my brother and your uncle, isn’t here with us any more. But this is where he is buried. I thought we could come to his grave and say hello to him. Today is
a very special day for us all because you and your mummy became Galantis.’

  The surge of pride that had hit me earlier, when Belle had said, ‘I do,’ and Cai had leapt into my arms after our kiss, made my chest ache all over again. ‘And Remy is a Galanti too.’

  ‘Remy is my extra name,’ Cai said, looking thoughtful.

  ‘I know,’ I replied. ‘Your mummy gave you that name because she loved Remy too, just like I did.’

  ‘Where did he go, Daddy?’

  I heard Belle cough and sniff, and guessed the emotion was probably choking her the way it was choking me. But I sent her a smile and squeezed her fingers back.

  ‘I’ve got this,’ I mouthed at her.

  ‘He went to Heaven,’ I said to our son. ‘But I know he would have loved to meet you.’

  Cai wrapped his small arm around my neck and stared at the grave stone. ‘Did he like racing cars, like I do?’

  I let out a raw chuckle, the feel of his sturdy body beside mine—so trusting, so affectionate—making the emotion thicken my throat again. ‘He liked racing cars the best of all, just like you do.’

  ‘Will he come back? So I can show him my racing cars?’ Cai asked.

  I shook my head, not quite able to speak. ‘No,’ I managed at last. ‘He can’t come back. But he’s here.’ I pressed a hand to my heart. ‘Always, just like you and Mummy are. Because I loved him very much, just the way I love you two.’

  I scrubbed away the tear that slipped over my lid, but then I heard Belle stifle a sob.

  Cai’s head whipped around. ‘Why are you crying, Mummy?’ he asked. ‘Are you sad?’

  Belle shook her head, wiping her tears away with the heel of her hand as she sent us both a radiant smile. My heart expanded even more than it had an hour ago when she had walked down the aisle towards me in the stunning dress and Cai had skipped behind her, throwing petals around as if they were grenades.

  ‘I’m sad and happy at the same time,’ she said.

  Cai giggled. ‘That’s silly, Mummy.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. Her eyes connected with mine over our son’s head, the teary smile becoming tender. ‘I’m sad that Remy isn’t here, but happy that he’ll always be with us in our hearts. And I know he would be so happy that we have each other...’ She pressed a hand to her stomach, the way I’d noticed her do several times in the past week. ‘And that we’re going to have a new Galanti baby to join us in eight months’ time.’

  ‘What...?’ I croaked, the joy and shock blindsiding me as Cai began to dance with excitement.

  ‘You made me a baby brother with all your kissing!’ Cai shouted. ‘Just like Imran’s mummy and daddy.’

  Belle

  ‘Yes, we did, Cai-baby, although we don’t know yet if it’s a brother or a sister,’ I said to our son, who looked ecstatic as I grinned at Alexi’s look of shock and awe.

  I hadn’t intended to tell Cai or him today. I’d only taken the test this morning to confirm my suspicions, and I was still reeling from the news myself.

  The wedding preparations had been insane in the last few months after Alexi had insisted in Milan we marry as soon as possible. It must have happened during one of the many stolen moments we’d shared—in the shower, on the balcony, by the pool at night, and even one memorable moment at the test track in Nice after the rest of the staff had left for the evening—while frantically juggling our careers, family commitments and the wedding preparations.

  We must have jumped the gun before the contraception I had started taking had become fully safe. We hadn’t planned this, hadn’t spoken about having another child, yet. But we had spoken about having another child eventually. Alexi was such a brilliant father, and we had both agreed we didn’t want Cai to be an only child.

  But hearing Alexi speak about Remy, standing over his grave, had just made it seem like the right moment to share the news. Why was I keeping it a secret? I’d married the man of my dreams today, and while I’d said my vows to my husband I’d felt Remy’s presence by my side and had heard his voice in my head, laughing and saying, It’s about damn time you finally kept your promise to me, bellisima.

  ‘If I have a sister, can she play racing cars with me?’ Cai asked, swivelling his head between the two of us.

  ‘Of course she can,’ Alexi said as he rose to his feet—still looking a little shell-shocked. But then he leaned close, gripping my cheeks with his usual confidence while sandwiching our son between us.

  The broad smile that spread across Alexi’s impossibly handsome features made my chest feel tight as Cai wriggled furiously and started to giggle.

  ‘Galanti girls like racing cars too,’ Alexi said to our son as he wriggled free. ‘And I’ve got the bestest Galanti girl of all,’ Alexi whispered against my mouth, before wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off my feet.

  He swung me around, to Cai’s delight—and a spontaneous laugh burst out of my mouth to match the joy I could no longer contain bursting in my heart.

  * * *

  If you fell in love with My Shocking Monte Carlo Confession you’re sure to adore these other stories by Heidi Rice!

  Carrying the Sheikh’s Baby

  Claiming My Untouched Mistress

  Contracted as His Cinderella Bride

  Claimed for the Desert Prince’s Heir

  Available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A Bride Fit for a Prince? by Susan Stephens.

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

  Escape to exotic locations where passion knows no bounds.

  Welcome to the glamorous lives of royals and billionaires, where passion knows no bounds. Be swept into a world of luxury, wealth and exotic locations.

  8 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!

  A Bride Fit for a Prince?

  by Susan Stephens

  CHAPTER ONE

  HE ENTERED THE restaurant at the front. The young backpacker rushed in from the alley at the back. They met in the middle at the bar.

  More accurately, she crashed into him.

  ‘Sorry! Sorry!’ she exclaimed, bouncing off him with a yelp.

  ‘No need to apologise.’

  He took stock of the new arrival. Bright eyes, firm chin and a face smudged with dust from her travels. It was an interesting face full of character and not unattractive. The impression of soft curves yielding to his muscular frame stayed with him as he stared into eyes the colour of an emerald ocean on an uncomplicated summer’s day—which this should have been. But when was anything as straightforward as it appeared?

  ‘I’m gagging for a drink of water,’ she gasped to no one in particular. Turning to study his face with engaging frankness, she added, ‘Do I know you?’

  ‘I don’t believe so.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  He thumbed twenty-four hours’ worth of stubble. ‘As I can be.’

  She continued to stare at him intently, as if his face rang a bell but her brain refused to yield the required information.

  This break in proceedings allowed him to inhale her wildflower scent, and to appreciate more than a sweet rosebud mouth pursed in thought. Though, sweet was not a word he would use to describe her, he decided, noting the stubborn set of her chin and narrowed eyes as she ran his features through some internal search engine.

  ‘I’m sure I know you from somewhere,’ she insisted, still frowning. ‘I just can’t place you yet. But I will,’ she warned with a smile that lit up her face. ‘You’re as out of place here as me, and yet you’re totally relaxed...’

  ‘Okay, Sherlock Holmes. Anything else?’

  ‘You’re obviously more used to eating in swanky eateries than I am...’

  Undaunted by his silence, she turned to take stock of their surroundings. And gasped. ‘Paint me staggered—I must have stumbled into Oz. Do people really drink magnu
ms of champagne at midday?’

  ‘It would appear so.’

  She had freckles on her nose, he noticed as she wrinkled it with amusement. Having strayed off the alleyway behind the restaurant, she had landed in Babylon, where vintage wines were discussed in hushed tones, as if they were the answer to all the world’s woes, while waiters served delicacies to clientele who, for the most part, couldn’t care what they ate, so long as it was expensive enough to brag about. They were standing in a temple to excess on what was arguably the most stylish marina on the planet. He guessed the staff had left the rear entrance open to allow for the non-stop arrival of stock, as no place on earth could hope to keep sufficient food and booze on the premises to satisfy the appetites of the super-rich.

  ‘Water and a job are what I need, and in that order,’ the young woman announced, appearing to look to him for the solution. ‘Do you know of anything going?’ Chin angled to one side, she studied his face with brazen interest. Keen intelligence blazed from emerald eyes, and she had an eminently kissable mouth, he mused as she smiled again. ‘Maybe I could get some work on board one of those huge boats in the marina...’ She waited, and when he said nothing, she admitted, ‘I’ve run out of funds. This trip has lasted longer than I expected. There’s just so much to see, and so little time to fit everything in.’

  ‘You’re on some sort of deadline?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ she replied, ‘but I do have to get back to work eventually—don’t we all? I can’t spend my entire life roaming. Though, I’d like to.’ A wistful look crept into her eyes. ‘At some point I’ve got to stop travelling and make a go of things again...’

  ‘Again?’ he probed as she stared off into the middle distance.

  ‘Oh, you know what I mean,’ she insisted with a careless flip of her wrist.

  ‘I’m not sure I do. Have you travelled far?’

  ‘From London, originally.’

  ‘Where you live and work?’