One Last Night by Melanie Milburne Page A

Had he felt less of a man? Had he felt less potent, less virile because he hadn't been able to fulfil what he saw as one of his primary roles as a husband?
    Giorgio swung away and paced the room, or at least with what little space allowed for his long legs. He stopped after a moment and faced her, his expression so full of loathing Maya actually cringed. 'Were you hoping to pass it off as mine?' he asked. 'Was that what that night was all about after my brother's wedding? You know, I did think at the time how it was a little out of character for you. You were the one so insistent on a divorce and then there you were, tearing my clothes off.'
    'I didn't tear your clothes off.' It wasn't much of a comeback or a defence but it was all Maya could think of at the time. 'We were both almost fully dressed apart from…you know…'
    Giorgio sent her a livid glare. 'No, you didn't bother with the preliminaries. It was all about getting laid as quickly and as thoroughly as possible so you could get your insurance policy in place.'
    Maya wrung her hands for the want of something better to do. 'It wasn't like that, Giorgio…'
    'Damn it; what was it like?' he demanded furiously.

    It was wonderful, it was just like the old times and it was spontaneous and passionate and totally unforgettable, but she couldn't tell him that. 'I never intended sleeping with you that night,' she said. 'The thought never crossed my mind.' Liar, her conscience prodded her. It was just as he had said the other day. She had thought of nothing else from the moment she had walked into the church and seen him standing next to his brother. It had reminded her so much of their wedding, how excited she had been, how gorgeously handsome Giorgio had looked and how she had been so proud to be his chosen wife, even if he hadn't once openly declared he loved her.
    No wonder she had consumed one too many glasses of champagne at his brother's reception. No wonder she had been so unguarded when he'd suggested they go up to his room to discuss the terms of the divorce. What a silly fool she had been. He had set the scene for seduction, not her.
    How ironic that he had twisted things round to blame her for the consequences.
    Giorgio stabbed a finger at her. 'You are a calculating little gold-digger,' he said. 'I am not the fool you take me for. How could this child possibly be mine when for two and a half years I have not been able to get you pregnant?' He changed the stabbing motion to a numerical one. 'Two and a half years, Maya.' He underlined the words with his biting tone. 'Do you know how many times we had sex during that time?'
    Maya was close to tears but pride would not allow her to give in to them. 'You are the father, Giorgio, but my advice is to enjoy it while it lasts because it might not last much longer.'
    His throat moved up and down as if he was trying to swallow a boulder. 'What are you saying?'
    She met his frowning gaze with her glistening one. 'I am six weeks pregnant. I have never gone past eight weeks, you know that. Most doctors say twelve weeks is the time to stop holding your breath; others say fourteen.'
    Six weeks. Giorgio did the maths in his head. He wasn't the financial controller of the Sabbatini Corporation for nothing. His stomach clenched as if a cruel pair of sharp-edged tongs had snatched at his insides.
    Six weeks.
    One thousand and eight hours ago.
    The night of Luca and Bronte's wedding, the night when he had lost all control and taken Maya like a whore, not even bothering to make sure she got home safely. He had sent her on her way without a word. Pride had kept him silent. He hadn't wanted to beg her to stay the night, to stay another night and the night after that. But he had sent her away because that was what she had wanted. Damn it, it was what they had both wanted. They'd been desperately unhappy, sniping at each other at every turn. Sure, she was the one who'd insisted on bringing an end to their marriage, but it would only have