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slept with Antonio within hours of meeting him. But she wasn’t going to tumble into his bed again, she reminded herself. He didn’t want her anymore. He had someone else in his life.
    But, to her shame, she knew that fact wouldn’t stop her from falling into his arms. Despite everything—despite the way he’d discarded her and cast her out of his life—she still longed for Antonio’s touch.
    Isabella rubbed her bare arms as she stepped into the drawing room. She looked around and noticed that not much had changed. In fact the only thing different about the apartment was her. She was no longer the carefree and impetuous girl who’d seen the beauty in this room but not the power behind it. Back then she had put her dreams on hold for the man she loved. These days she had to play it safe. She would hold back instead of brazenly going forward. She had to protect herself and her baby’s future.
    She frowned when she noticed how quiet the apartment was. No music. No easy conversation. No laughter. The room was modern and dramatic. The sleek contemporary furniture and bold artwork were at odds with the panoramic view of Rome’s ancient ruins. Isabella had always thought the apartment suited Antonio, a self-made man who bridged innovation and tradition. He’d conquered the business world with cutthroat strategy, but there was a dark sensuality about him that he contained ruthlessly. Yet she had seen it. In the artwork he was drawn to, in his movement, in his eyes.
    She knew Antonio wanted a showdown, and he had brought her here because he wanted it on his territory. This place held wild memories. Did he think it would distract her? Or would he use their past as a way to seduce the truth out of her?
    “The housekeeper has made up the guestroom for you,” he said as he walked across the room.
    “Thank you.” She wished the housekeeper were here.She didn’t want to be alone with Antonio. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust herself.
    She watched him as he strode to a table that held drinks. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t. His striking features were so harsh and aggressive. Her hands tingled as she remembered brushing her fingertips along his slanted cheekbones and angular jaw. He radiated masculine power and raw sensuality. He had discarded the suit jacket that had cloaked his lean, muscular build. She dragged her gaze away so she wouldn’t stare at his broad shoulders or sculpted chest.
    “Would you like a drink?” he asked as he grabbed a decanter from the table. He froze and stared at the crystal in his hands. “I forgot. You can’t drink alcohol.”
    “It’s not just because I’m pregnant.” She returned her attention to the window and looked out onto the night sky. “I don’t drink anymore.”
    She heard Antonio pause in pouring a glass of whiskey. “Why is that?”
    When she had stayed with Giovanni she had gotten caught up in his party circuit. She’d drunk to dull the pain. To forget. She hadn’t realized she was out of control until she woke up in Giovanni’s bed. “I overindulged one night and swore I wouldn’t drink again.”
    “That often happened when you socialized with Gio and his friends.”
    “Yes, I found that out.” She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her voice.
    “You couldn’t keep up with his wild ways?” he asked as he took a sip of his drink.
    Isabella breathed deeply and leaned against the cold glass. She had to control her temper. Had to keep herwits about her. She knew Antonio was going to interrogate her. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about this?”
    “I don’t.”
    She believed that. He didn’t want to know, but he had to find out. The curiosity was killing him. “Did you think for a minute that Giovanni might have lied to you?” Isabella asked. “That I might have been faithful to you?”
    He stilled. “Yes,” he said slowly.
    The surprised her. Antonio didn’t second-guess himself. “When was that?” she asked, watching him down