The Tycoon's Secret Baby: Forbidden lust. One stolen night. A secret baby!

by Clare Connelly

  It was intense, but in a different way to their usual coming together. Something had shifted, and when finally he put some space between them – just enough to look at her passion-warmed face – he felt the whole world tipping off its axis. Did she feel it too?

  He couldn’t tell.

  His body still claimed hers and yet she was shutting off, pulling away from him, withdrawing from the intimacy that they’d shared. Her eyes ran from his as though they were of an opposing magnetic polarity and her body was stiff where seconds earlier it had been fluidic heat.

  His phone rang but even if it hadn’t, Grace would have pushed him away. He could sense it coming and the whole experience was as unpalatable as it was foreign. He ignored the ringing but she didn’t.

  “Get it.” The words were cold. Clipped.

  “It’s not important.”

  “Take the call. We’re done here.”

  His laugh was a harsh sound of shock, totally lacking in humour. “Cristo, cara. We are so far from done.”

  “That’s what I needed from you. It’s what you want from me.” She cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted her body weight. He was significantly larger and stronger but he’d never used his size to take anything from a woman she wasn’t willing to give. He moved naturally, allowing her to lift up and stride back to the window. Naked, beautifully naked, she stared at the view for several quiet, long minutes. He watched her, his body on tenterhooks, as though she’d primed him in some way.

  He opened his mouth to speak, no idea what he wanted to say, when his phone rang again. He made a noise of exasperation but Grace angled her head, so he caught the hint of her profile. “Answer it.”

  He snatched the phone up, intending simply to get rid of whomever was on the other end. There were several missed calls; he hadn’t even realized it had been ringing before.

  “There you are! God, I’ve been calling and calling.”

  Marco heard his sister’s tone and was, momentarily, distracted from Grace. “Is everything okay, Claudia?”

  Grace was getting dressed. He watched as she lifted her dress into place, not bothering with underpants or a bra. She kept her head dipped forward as she re-did each button, closing herself up, shutting off to him.

  “Yes, yes. Will and I are around the corner. We need to see you.”

  He suppressed his first reaction – irritation. “Can it wait?”

  “No, Marco. It’s important. Ten minutes, okay?”

  He disconnected the call and thrust the phone into his pocket. Grace was waiting by the door, her look impassive.

  He ached to pull her back into his arms, to rattle that look of calm determination from her features, because now he saw what was behind it. The pain.

  “Claudia and Will are coming over,” he heard himself say softly. As though they hadn’t just shared something magnificent and spine-tingling in the middle of his home office. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  Grace stared out the window, over his shoulder. “I’ll stay in my room.”

  Marco controlled his temper with difficulty. “You will do no such thing.” And he was floundering with no clue what to say, so he clung to the one thing he thought might achieve his result. “We had a deal. Around my family, we act like this is all real. Got it?”

  For the smallest of seconds, she met his gaze, and then she was looking at the ground. “Yes, Marco.”

  Her response angered him further, but what could he say? He’d demanded she fall in with his earlier stipulation, and so she’d agreed.

  “Freshen up. I’ll take them to the terrace when they arrive.”

  “Fine.”

  He watched her go, something dropping heavily in his chest.

  He watched her all the way to the end of the corridor, when she turned a corner and moved from sight.

  And then he swore, slamming the door shut in the curse’s wake.

  What the hell was he supposed to do?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I HOPE WE’RE NOT interrupting anything,” Will grinned, a hand in the small of Claudia’s back as they entered the corridor.

  Grace stood at the top of the stairs, immobilized by a raging current of emotions. How ‘right’ they looked here. How comfortable. Happy. Loved. She watched as Marco greeted them, all relaxed contentment, large smile. He’d been like that with her once. Years ago. Now?

  She swept her eyes shut, trying to remember the last time they’d seen each other that hadn’t involved an argument or raging tension. And drew a blank.

  He said something to Will, too softly for her to catch from where she was, and they all laughed, Claudia tilting her head back and inadvertently discovering Grace. Her expression flashed with something like frustration but then she smiled. A tight smile. Not welcoming and not kind, but a smile nonetheless.

  “Grace. Join us.” Claudia’s teeth were practically audible, they were grinding so hard. Grace bit back the retort, that she’d already been ordered to do just that.

  Instead, she nodded, dipping her head forward as she walked down the stairs, hiding her face behind a curtain of loose blonde hair.

  Around my family, we act like all this is real. Got it?

  Well, Grace had practice with pretending things were real. She smiled brightly as her foot hit the bottom step and lifted her gaze, deliberately locking her eyes with Marco’s speculative stare as she moved. She slid her hand into his as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

  “Hi Claudia. Will.” She made no effort to embrace either of them, but Will leaned down and pressed a kiss against her cheek.

  “How are you?”

  She smiled at him, and discovered it didn’t feel forced. She liked him. Really liked him. What a relief it was to have at least someone in the house she could simply be herself around.

  “Great. You?” She encompassed Claudia in the query.

  “Better than great. Shall we?”

  Marco arched a brow but led the way down the corridor, towards the terrace. As they walked, and passed through his house, memories detonated for Grace like sexy little time bombs. Her own ghost patrol. She remembered where they’d kissed, touched, fought.

  The terrace was thick with recollection.

  I love you.

  Silence.

  She swallowed and went to release her hand from Marco’s but he lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss against her fingers and then holding it tight to his side. Her heart groaned.

  She continued to smile, oblivious to the way Marco was watching her every flicker of movement.

  “We have news.” Will’s excitement was obvious and Claudia laughed.

  “I get to tell my family, remember?”

  Grace rejected the word instantly. She meant Marco. Grace was nothing to Claudia; and never would be.

  “Tell me what?”

  Marco too seemed to make the distinction between ‘us’ and ‘me’. Grace swallowed the bitterness. She was numb to that hurt.

  “We’re adopting!”

  “What?” Marco’s eyes flew to Will’s, searching for an explanation.

  “We went through the application a year ago,” Will said ruefully. “We never had much hope – it’s very competitive. But we just heard.”

  “We never even thought…” Claudia blinked away tears. “We never thought this would happen!”

  Grace’s swelling of emotion was real and she found herself wishing she knew them better, so that she could properly express her excitement. Instead, she contented herself with a vague smile of congratulations and left it to Marco to be rapturous and thrilled.

  “Oh, Claudia! That’s wonderful. You must be so happy.” He released Grace’s hand for a moment, and she flexed her fingers behind her back as if she could remove the warmth his touch had massaged over her flesh. Marco wrapped his sister into a bear hug, then Will, and Grace stood by, the same smile etched on her face even as her heart felt strangely heavy.

  “I’m so happy for you guys. Tell us everything.” An
d he was back, his hand taking Grace’s, squeezing it, and when he looked down at her, his smile was so mesmerizing in its intensity that her heart blew wide open.

  Hadn’t she just been wishing he’d look at her like that again?

  She blinked away without reacting, focusing her attention on Will.

  “Well, her name’s Esme and she’s almost one.”

  “Oh!” Grace interjected. “She and Ben will be so close in age. How lovely for them. Little cousins.”

  “Yes, that’s what we thought,” Will grinned. “Cousins. Who would have thought, huh?”

  Claudia moved towards the table, taking a seat opposite the view, staring out at it and shaking her head. “Not me. Six months ago, I didn’t know about either child, and now I am filled with love for both.”

  As if on cue, Ben appeared, Emma just behind. “Da!” He squealed, toddling straight up to Will and holding out a hand for a high five. Will laughed and did as he’d been asked, pressing his hand into the toddler’s.

  Ben clapped his hands together in delight and then ran towards Grace, wrapping his arms around her legs with such strength she almost fell backwards.

  “Hello, little love,” she bent down and scooped him up, pleased to have her hand back to herself again. She propped him on her hip, placing him neatly between herself and Marco, and listened as Will and Claudia elaborated on every detail they had of their daughter, and then went back to the beginning and started again.

  “I think this calls for champagne,” Marco grinned.

  “You stay here; I’ll get it.” Emma turned and moved towards the door.

  “I’ll give you a hand.” Grace passed Ben to Marco without meeting his eyes, relieved to have an excuse that took her inside. But it was only a moment’s work to fetch glasses and a bottle of bubbles.

  “Prosecco,” Emma announced as they returned to the balcony. Grace was behind her, and Marco noted as she stepped onto the terrace that she had the same head tilt employed that she used whenever she was thinking something she didn’t want him to fathom. She placed five flutes on the table but Emma shook her head.

  “I’m going to take Ben to the park. We’ve made a little friend we meet at this time every day.”

  “It’s late,” Claudia said with a frown.

  “We don’t stay long. A quick run around at this time gets him hungry for dinner and tired enough to sleep.” Emma extended her hands and took Ben from Marco. The little boy snuggled his head onto Emma’s shoulder.

  “You were so lucky to find her,” Claudia said with a shake of her head. “She adores him.”

  “My son is very lovable,” Marco pointed out, unfurling the foil top of the champagne with a grin that made Grace’s heart thump. His eyes locked to Grace’s. “Just like his mommy.”

  She smiled because it was expected but his words did nothing to brighten her mood. If anything, they only emphasized the chasm between what they meant to each other and what they were pretending to be.

  Claudia said nothing, simply looked from her brother to future sister-in-law, her lips pursed.

  “Have you set a date yet?” Will asked as Marco popped the top off the champagne.

  “No. We were going to discuss it tonight,” he kept his eyes pinned to Grace’s. She wanted to hold his gaze but she couldn’t. She looked down at Will instead.

  “There’s no rush.” The words were thick. She cleared her throat.

  “Speak for yourself,” Marco murmured. “I can’t wait to make it official.”

  “Will you wait until Esme is here?” Claudia prompted. “She can be a flower girl!”

  “Oh.” Grace shook her head before remembering she was supposed to be an ebulliently happy bride-to-be. “We were thinking something very small. Probably just us.”

  “What?” Claudia crinkled her face up in surprise. “But why? How many times do you get married? Why not make a fuss?”

  “It’s my second wedding,” Grace pointed out softly. “And given that I only buried my husband seven months ago, a huge affair doesn’t seem appropriate.”

  Chastened, Claudia nodded. “I forgot. I’m sorry.”

  Grace had no interest in making the other woman suffer. “It’s fine. But I think we’ll keep it quiet.”

  Marco reached for the champagne flutes and began to pour. “This is your celebration though,” he said, his eyes clashing with Grace’s briefly before moving on to Claudia and Will. “Tell us more about Esme.”

  He smiled as he straightened and passed a champagne flute to Grace. She took it without sipping. The last time she’d had alcohol in Marco’s presence she’d forgotten all of her defensive barriers and had told him she was in love with him. She would never let her guard down again.

  Claudia and Will talked endlessly, repeating every fact they knew about their baby, the parents, anything they could think of. Grace sat, cradling her champagne, not drinking, not speaking, simply listening. She watched the couple, so obviously in love and over-the-moon about this news, as they spoke freely and happily and she imagined what it must feel like to live within that glow of warmth.

  Finally, when the bottle was finished, Will stood. “We’ll leave you to it. We’re meeting up with my father for dinner to tell him.”

  “Wonderful.” Marco stood, clapping a hand against Will’s back and hugging Claudia. “I’m thrilled for you both.”

  Belatedly, Grace stood and nodded, adding her congratulations to Marco’s. She waited on the terrace as Marco walked them out, and now she did have a sip of champagne. She moved towards the edge of the terrace, leaning over it and smiled wistfully, remembering the last time she’d done this. The conversation she’d overheard. The words that had condemned her even when she hadn’t been the intended audience.

  Any hope she’d cherished that perhaps he was making her pay for her secrecy had evaporated. He’d spoken honestly to Will and hopes of any real relationship for them had evaporated.

  She was still propped against the railing, staring out at the night-scape as it settled over Rome, when Marco returned. He came to stand beside her without touching her. Grace’s lips twisted in a lopsided recognition of that fact.

  More pretense.

  “Are you hungry?” The question was quietly spoken. She shook her head, not moving from where she stood.

  “Me neither.” He expelled a sigh. “Grace? We have to talk.”

  She tilted her head to face him slowly, her eyes huge in her face. “Why?”

  His gaze ran over her face, finding the features that were imprinted on his soul. He stared at her, and time seemed to shift gradually beyond her recognition. She held her breath, every cell of her body attuned to his.

  He focused his attention on Rome, staring straight ahead, his face held taut. Was he not going to speak?

  “Us getting married … It was a terrible idea.” He swallowed, the column of his throat moving visibly. “I’m sorry.”

  Grace held the railing, but it didn’t stop the feeling that she was falling to the ground. She stared at Rome, her heart crumbling into tiny pieces.

  “I see.”

  He shook his head slightly. “I was so angry when I found out about Ben, I wasn’t thinking. We can work out a better way to raise him together.”

  Grace bit down on her lower lip, refusing to cry, refusing to feel. This was what she deserved, wasn’t it? The only man she’d ever really loved was putting an end to it. Had she really expected any different?

  Did she deserve any better?

  “Okay.” She reached for the ring on her finger and circled it loose. It came away easily; she took that as a sign. She gripped it between two fingers and lifted it out to him.

  He took it, his eyes meeting hers with a silent challenge, then slid it into his pocket.

  “The thing is,” he looked at her now. “You were right about this, us. Me.” His smile was filled with self-loathing. “You told me you were afraid of me. Of what I could do to you. And I never understood that until now; until I saw for myself wha
t I have done to you.”

  “You didn’t do this. I did.” The admission was coated with her regrets; her voice was tiny.

  He spoke with urgency and desperation, an earnest need to share. “I have a friend who lost her mother to cancer a few years back. She refused to see her husband’s parents while her mother was ill. She felt like it was a sort of betrayal, and she wouldn’t even let them come to the funeral.”

  Grace blinked in confusion at the random change of conversation. “I’m sorry.”

  But Marco continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “Obviously that’s crazy. She was making decisions based on emotion. But she was scared and grieving and sometimes, that’s what we do.” He still didn’t look at Grace. “Your childhood was traumatic, then you met someone who swept in and fixed everything up for you. How could you make a rational decision? How could you even know what you wanted? How you felt?”

  Grace’s stomach contracted at his words, at the promise that maybe he understood her ambivalence and uncertainty. But it evaporated as swiftly as it had risen within her. “I should have known better than to keep your child from you.”

  “I went out of my way to give you the impression that I was over you. I was so angry that you’d left me, I never stopped to look at why. What I’d done wrong.” Now, finally, he turned, and he cupped her cheeks, tilting her face up to his. She saw the fierce, rolling emotions drawing his eyes together and tightening his lips. “I’d never loved a woman before. Before I met you, I was perfectly happy sleeping with whoever took my fancy.” His smile was wry. “I couldn’t believe you didn’t love me back. That night you came here was so perfect … and then you told me about Steve. I was the one who reacted emotionally. I should have put my cards on the table then, told you how I felt, and instead I acted like a spoiled child.”

  Grace swallowed, pulling her face away. “It doesn’t matter. None of this matters. You’ll never be able to forgive me for what I did. I know that, and I get it. I’d feel the same. If someone had kept my own child from me… heaven help them.”

  “I wish it had been different,” he said gently. “I wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me. But I can imagine how scared you were when you discovered you were pregnant, and I do understand why you decided to trust Steve instead of me.” The words were unpalatable in his mouth, but they needed to be spoken. “I should have been honest with you back then, too.”