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He’d made this mistake once before, in the out-of-control early days of their relationship. One mistake when desire had overwhelmed him in the warm darkness of the night, on the cliffs above Porto, when he’d had no protection with him, no thought of being able to hold back. Every other time he’d been scrupulous about using contraception but stupidly, irresponsibly, he’d made that one mistake. And one mistake had been all it had taken…
The thought that he might have impregnated Imogen with another child of his when she hadn’t even cared enough to keep the first one sent black waves of horror crashing through his mind. How had he let the overpowering lust he felt for this woman scramble what little was left of his rational brain cells? He had been thinking only with his.
He hadn’t been thinking at all!
The realisation pushed him out of bed as if he had been stung. His clothing was still scattered about the floor, evidence if he needed it of how uncontrolled his thoughts had been as they’d made their way up here, tumbled onto that bed…
‘What is it?’
Imogen had swivelled round, the sheets twisting even tighter about her. Her face had lost the flush that orgasm had left on her cheeks but there was still that wide-eyed, unfocused look she had turned on him, revealing that, like him, she still hadn’t fully collected her thoughts.
‘I asked, did you sleep with Adnan?’
He was dragging on his trousers as he spoke.
‘You asked me that,’ Imogen acknowledged, her thoughts reeling, remembering the way he had declared he was not ashamed of his growing erection. Not concerned to show that he wanted her again even after so short a time. And she had seen no reason for shame either. In fact, the truth was she had found it a thrill to know that the burning connection between them was still there. That, like the way it had been on those passionate nights in Corsica, he had not been satisfied easily, or quickly, but wanted her again straight afterwards.
So how had they got from there to this in what seemed the blink of an eye?
‘And I said it was none of your business.’
‘It is my business, seeing as we’ve just come together—without protection.’
Oh, hell.
She felt as if the whole room had suddenly started to close in on her, growing darker with every breath she sucked in. Raoul’s face was shaded and hidden, the brilliant bronze eyes just glittering cold pools above the slash of high carved cheekbones, his mouth nothing but a thin, hard line. What had happened to those softly sensual lips, the hotly demanding mouth that had taken hers so passionately, forcing her own lips open, tongue plunging into her mouth, tasting her, taking her?
Realisation had happened. She could read the thoughts that were going through his mind as clearly as if they were transmitted on to the bleak, withdrawn face.
He had realised what they’d just done; how foolishly they’d behaved. And now, because he so obviously had second thoughts, the horrifying truth dawned on her too.
‘You don’t need to worry!’
‘No?’ One black eyebrow lifted sharply, cynically questioning. ‘And why not?’
She felt the truth bubbling up like lava in her mouth, but she didn’t dare to let it out. Not now, not ever, possibly, as she was sure there was no way he’d ever have wanted to know the truth about the tiny legacy their past relationship had left with her. The heavy sensation of tears clogging the back of her throat told her there was no way she was going to be capable of revealing that truth to him.
So she stuck to the one fact she was sure of, the simple, irrefutable declaration she could make.
‘Adnan and I…we haven’t, we never, slept together.’
‘You’ve not been intimate?’
It was such a strange, old-fashioned way of expressing it—coming from the man who looked like a bandit, standing there before her with his bare feet splayed out on the shabby bedside rug, dark jeans pulled on roughly so that they were up around his waist but not fully fastened, the belt undone and hanging loose at his narrow hips. His bronzed, broad chest was still exposed, almost shockingly dark against the white and gold décor of her room.
‘No—never.’ It was vital that he believe her. ‘I—I haven’t been with anyone at all, not since you.’
