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Coming closer, he looked down at her, his dark eyes glittering. “But it was just a night.”
To him it had just been a one-night stand, nothing more? One night, easily enjoyed and easily forgotten?
Tess’s cheeks went hot as she remembered telling him in bed, in the hushed quiet before dawn with their naked bodies still intertwined, “I’m already falling in love with you.”
In her innocence, Tess had meant every word. She’d been intoxicated by sensual pleasure she’d never imagined. In just twelve hours, he’d given her the most intense happiness of her life, more emotion and joy and beauty than she’d known for twelve years before. If that wasn’t love, what was?
Now, looking at his coldly handsome face, Tess realized that her honesty had been a fatal mistake. Because when she woke the next morning, he’d been gone.
“Your Highness!” A young girl caught up behind him on the sidewalk. She was obviously a model—tall, slender, dark-haired and incredibly beautiful in a white dress that set off her dark skin. She held out a small notebook to Stefano. “You forgot this.”
“Thanks, Kebe,” he said gruffly.
She tossed her dark curls. “See you in Paris.”
She left in a perfect catwalk stride.
“Who was that?” Tess whispered.
“A friend,” he said. His dark eyes flicked briefly to the sleeping baby in the stroller behind her. “Well. It was nice to see you again.” His expression was cool. Courteous. Distant. “Goodbye.”
Pain and shock spread through Tess’s body, making her knees shake.
He hadn’t been looking for her.
At all.
He’d rejected her long ago. She just hadn’t known it till now. Stinging tears filled her eyes.
All this time she’d dreamed of him as a romantic hero who was desperate to return to her. The truth was that Stefano simply hadn’t wanted to see her again.
Over the last year, as Tess had dropped out of college to work full-time at her uncle’s bakery, struggling to provide and care for their baby, Stefano had been traveling the world, enjoying himself. In fact, it seemed he’d just been out on a date with a beautiful girl who looked barely eighteen. Whom he’d promised to see again in Paris.
Stricken, she looked at him with tears in her eyes.
Stefano’s expression hardened. “Tess, it was for the best.”
Wordlessly shaking her head, she backed away. For so long, she’d held out hope, imagining one perfect love brought by destiny, by fate. She’d remained faithful to Stefano’s memory, dreaming of the day her handsome prince would return on a white horse to whisk her and the baby to his castle.
But Stefano was no prince.
Her friends and family had been right.
Tess gripped the stroller for support as anguish and exhaustion punched through her.
They’d been right.
“Come now. Don’t act like your heart’s broken,” he said sharply. “How long did it take you to get over me? A few days?”
“How can you say that?” she whispered.
He looked pointedly at the baby in the stroller. “She’s yours, isn’t she?”
Yes. And yours. The words rose inside her, but got caught in her throat.
“And what about her father?” he demanded. “How would he feel if he knew you were here now, talking to me?”
“You tell me.”
