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Swallowing hard, Hallie went toward Cristiano, planting herself in the middle of his path through the lobby. Her heart was pounding wildly.
It was funny, really. If she’d known when getting ready for the single-moms group that afternoon that she’d end up facing her old lover, she might have put on lipstick and worn something nicer than an old faded sundress that fit her post-pregnancy body. He’d probably take one look at her and wonder how she’d ever ended up in his bed in the first place. Well, there was no help for it now. And it wasn’t like she would ever, ever, ever want to sleep with him again. Ever.
Putting her hands on her hips, she tried to hide her nervousness as she waited.
His bodyguard tried to smooth his way, holding out his arm. “Excuse us, miss.”
Then, from behind him, Cristiano’s eyes caught hers.
For a split second, he went completely still. Then his jaw tightened. “It’s all right, Luther.” He came forward. “What are you doing here, Hallie?”
He remembered her name. She was almost surprised. She hated the shiver that went through her at having him so close, towering over her in his tuxedo, nearly touching her. His dark gaze seared through her. She found herself wanting to blurt out everything, to tell him not just that she’d had his baby but that he’d broken her heart.
She forced herself to say, “I need to talk to you. In private.”
His expression became distant. “That’s not a good idea.”
“I have something important to tell you.”
“Tell me now.”
“In the middle of the lobby?” Hallie’s cheeks went hot. She could feel people watching them. Even the model, standing nearby in her high heels, was looking down at Hallie with scorn. They were all probably wondering why such a frumpy girl would dare talk to Cristiano Moretti. For a moment, Hallie’s nerve faltered. She wanted to run away, to forget the whole thing.
Then she saw her friends watching from the other side of the lobby. Saw her sleeping baby cuddled in the stroller. That gave her courage. “It’s important.”
“Not interested.” But as he turned to go, she stepped in front of him.
“Either you speak with me privately right now,” she said, determined, “or I’ll make a scene in this lobby you can’t possibly imagine.”
Cristiano stared at her for a long moment, as if assessing her. Then he held up his hand, halting the bodyguard’s intervention.
“Go ahead to the gala, Natalia,” he told his date. “My driver will take you. I’ll see you later.”
The woman’s pout intensified. She glared at Hallie, then said, “All right, darling,” and sashayed out of the lobby hips first, as if she were on a catwalk at New York Fashion Week. She was so obviously a model that even the sophisticated patrons of this luxurious hotel turned to watch her go. So did Hallie, a little wistfully. What would it be like to get that much attention wherever you went? She would be able to get an audition at the Blue Hour, for one.
“Follow me,” Cristiano said, turning on his heel without waiting to see if Hallie followed.
She glanced nervously back at her baby and friends. Then, biting her lip, she went up the sweeping staircase, following the man she hated most on earth, to face him alone in his lair.
* * *
Cristiano Moretti’s jaw was tight as he went to the wet bar in his private office on the second floor.
Lifting the lid off the crystal decanter, he glanced back at Hallie as she followed him hesitantly into the high-ceilinged room with its dark oak panels. “Scotch?”
Hallie shook her head, her beautiful brown eyes wide.
Turning back to the bar, he poured himself a short glass over ice. He could almost feel her vibrating with anxiety behind him. He put the lid back on the decanter, then drank the Scotch in one long, slow gulp. He realized he was playing for time.
But then, Hallie Hatfield had been Cristiano’s biggest mistake. And at thirty-five years old, with his scandalous past, that was saying something.
He turned to face her. “Va bene,” he said shortly. “We are alone. What do you want?”
Hallie swallowed, blushed, hesitated. He could see her trying to formulate her words, but she didn’t have to say anything. Cristiano already knew why she was here.
She’d come to demand money.
Silently he cursed himself. How could he have been so stupid?
