“Carliz,” Valentino began, in a voice made entirely of warnings that her body took as dark, delicious promises—something else she would need to unpack later, when she was alone.

Later, when she knew she’d survived this.

She lifted a hand to stop him. “I’m having your baby,” she said. Direct and to the point, and it did not matter what he did with that, not now it was said. “You can do with that information what you will.”

And then she finally—finally—did the right thing.

She turned on her heel and marched to the front door, leaving him of her own volition.