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she’d spent her long-ago Christmases.

      ‘I’m illegitimate,’ she said baldly. ‘I don’t know who my father was and neither did my mother. And she… Well, for a lot of my childhood, she wasn’t considered fit to be able to take care of me.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘She had…’ She hesitated. ‘She had a drug problem. She was a junkie.’

      He let out a long breath and Darcy found herself searching his face for some kind of understanding, some shred of compassion for a situation which had been out of her control. But his expression remained like ice. His black eyes were stony as they skimmed over her, looking at her as if it was the first time he’d seen her and not liking what they saw.

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?’

      ‘Because you didn’t ask. And you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to know!’ she exclaimed. ‘You made that very clear. We haven’t had the kind of relationship where we talked about stuff like this. You just wanted…sex.’

      She waited for him to deny it. To tell her that there had been more to it than that—and Darcy realised she was already thinking of their relationship in the past tense. But he didn’t deny it. His sudden closed look made his features appear shuttered as he walked over to the table near where he’d undressed her last night and her heart missed a beat as she saw him looking down at the polished surface, on which stood a lamp and nothing else.

      Nothing else.

      It took a moment for her to register the significance of this and that moment came when he lifted his black gaze to hers and slanted her an unfathomable look. ‘Where’s the necklace?’ he questioned softly.

      Darcy’s mind raced. In the heat of everything that had happened, she’d forgotten about the diamond necklace he’d bought last night for her at the auction. She vaguely remembered the dazzle of the costly gems as he’d dropped them onto the table, but his hands had been all over her at the time and it had blotted out everything except the magic of his touch. Had she absent-mindedly tidied it away when she was picking up her clothes this morning? No. It had definitely been there when…

      Fear and horror clamped themselves around her suddenly racing heart.

      When…

      Drake! Her throat dried as she remembered leaving him alone in the room while she went to fetch him a beer. Remembered the way he’d hurriedly left after his half-hearted attempt at blackmail. Had Drake stolen the necklace?

      Of course he had.

      ‘I don’t—’

      His voice was like steel. ‘Did your friend take it?’

      ‘He’s not—’

      ‘What’s the matter, Darcy?’ Contemptuously, he cut through her protest. ‘Did I arrive home unexpectedly and spoil your little plan?’

      ‘What plan?’

      ‘Oh, come on. Isn’t this what’s known in the trade as a scam? To rob me. To cheat on me.’

      Darcy stared at him in disbelief. ‘You can’t honestly believe that?’

      ‘Can’t I? Perhaps it’s the first clear-headed thought I’ve had in a long time, now that I’m no longer completely mesmerised by your pale skin and witchy eyes.’ He shook his head like a man who was emerging from a deep coma. ‘Now I’m beginning to wonder whether something like this was in your sights all along.’

      Darcy felt foreboding icing her skin. ‘What are you talking about?’ she whispered.

      ‘I’ve often wondered,’ he said harshly, ‘what you might give a man who has everything. Another house, or a faster car?’ He shook his head. ‘No. Material wealth means nothing when you have plenty. But innocence—ah! Now that is a very different thing.’

      ‘You’re not making sense.’

      ‘Think about it. What is a woman’s most prized possession, cara mia?’ The Italian words of endearment dripped like venom from his lips. ‘Sì. I can see from your growing look of comprehension that you are beginning to understand. Her virginity. Precious and priceless and the biggest bartering tool in the market. And hasn’t it always been that way?’

      ‘Renzo.’ She could hear the desperation in her voice now but she couldn’t seem to keep it at bay. ‘You don’t mean that.’

      ‘Sometimes I would ask myself,’ he continued, still in that same flat tone, ‘why someone as beautiful and sensual as you—someone hard-up and working in a dead-end job—hadn’t taken a rich lover to catapult herself out of her poverty before I came along.’

      Desperation morphed into indignation. ‘You mean…use a man as a meal ticket?’

      ‘Why are you looking so shocked—or is that simply an expression you’ve managed to perfect over the years? Isn’t that what every woman does ultimately—feed like a leech off a man?’ His black gaze roved over her. ‘But not you. At least, not initially. Did you decide to deny yourself pleasure—to look at the long game rather than the lure of instant gratification? To hold out for the richest man available, who just happened to be me—someone who was blown away by your extraordinary beauty coupled with an innocence I’d never experienced before?’ He gave a cynical smile. ‘But you were cunning, too. I see that now. For a cynic like me, a spirited show of independence was pretty much guaranteed to wear me down. So you refused my gifts. You bought cheap clothes and budget airline tickets while valiantly offering me the money you’d saved. What a touching gesture—the hard-up waitress offering the jaded architect a handful of cash. And I fell for it—hook, line and sinker! I was sucked in by your stubbornness and your pride.’

      ‘It wasn’t like that!’ she defended fiercely.

      ‘You must have thought you’d hit the jackpot when I gave you the key to my flat and bought you a diamond necklace,’ he bit out. ‘Just as I did when you gave yourself so willingly to me and I discovered you were a virgin. I allowed my ego to be flattered and to blind myself to the truth. How could I have been so blind?’

      Darcy felt her head spin and that horrible queasy feeling came washing over her again, in giant waves. This couldn’t be happening. In a minute she would wake up and the nightmare would be over. But it wouldn’t, would it? She was living her nightmare and the proof was right in front of her eyes. In the midst of her confusion and hurt she saw the look of something like satisfaction on Renzo’s face. She remembered him mentioning his parents’ divorce and how bitterly he’d said that women could never be trusted. Was he somehow pleased that his prejudices had been reinforced and he could continue thinking that way? Yes, he was, she realised. He wanted to believe badly of her.

      She made one last attempt because wasn’t there still some tiny spark of hope which existed—a part which didn’t want to let him go? ‘None of that—’

      ‘Save your lying words because I don’t want to hear them. You’re only upset because I came home early and found you out. How were you going to explain the absence of the necklace, Darcy?’ he bit out. ‘A “burglary” while you were out shopping? Shifting the blame onto one of the people who service these apartments?’

      ‘You think I’d be capable of that?’

      ‘I don’t know what you’re capable of, do I?’ he said coldly. ‘I just want you to listen to what I’m going to say. I’m going out and by the time I get back I want you out of here. Every last trace of you. I don’t ever want to see your face again. Understand? And for what it’s worth—and I’m sure you realise it’s a lot—you can keep the damned necklace.’

      ‘You’re not going to go to the police?’

      ‘And advertise exactly what kind of woman my girlfriend really is and the kind of low-life company she keeps? That wouldn’t exactly do wonders for my reputation, would it? Do whatever you’d planned to do with it all along.’ He

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