by Maggie Cox
‘Let me go, Dante. Please!’ Her vividly coloured gaze regarded him with what Dante could only describe as stark, cold terror and it so took him aback that he immediately released her, only to have the door slam soundly shut in his face.
‘Bliss! You have to tell me what is going on. Are you keeping something from me? Are you seriously ill? Bliss! I demand to be told the truth this instant!’ He heard an unintelligible mumble come from behind the locked door followed very shortly afterwards by the sound of severe retching. His anxiety increasing rapidly, Dante thumped the door with renewed vigour in his furious voice. ‘If you do not open the door immediately I will break it down! Do you hear me?’
What he heard was something very like a strained sob, swiftly tamped, then the flushing of the toilet. He cursed very eloquently in fluent Italian, then banged on the door again. ‘Bliss! Open this door now! If you don’t, I’ll—’
But Dante got no further because in the next instant he heard the catch on the other side being released. Opening the door just a fraction, Bliss gazed back at him, her skin almost ashen, her violet eyes too big for that small heart-shaped face of hers and her lips almost the same colour as her complexion. ‘I’m all right,’ she told him huskily, her throat clearly strained from her violent retching.
Did she think he was an imbecile? Dante speculated furiously. He hated that she was hiding something from him. Remembering his father telling him how his own mother had hidden her cancer from him until she had barely had a few weeks left to live, Dante felt his stomach recoil with icy dread.
‘You must take me for a fool,’ he replied coldly, his concern compounded by a terror so great that there was no other inclination than to find out the truth and find it out now.
Bliss tried to swallow across the severe pain in her throat and just barely managed it. ‘Let me wash my face, then I’ll come and join you in the kitchen,’ she suggested, her heart squeezing at the evidence of fear in his amazing green eyes. He clearly thought she was suffering from something dire, she realised with a wave of sympathy. The sooner she put him out of his misery, the better. Then he could leave her with equanimity and go back to Italy without ever having to cast another thought in her direction again.
The sudden desire to bawl her eyes out was so strong it was like being knocked off her feet by a tsunami, and Bliss strove with all her might to stave off her tears until she was once again safely ensconced behind a locked bathroom door. But just as she attempted to do exactly that Dante placed his big bronzed hand on her shoulder, turned her gently but firmly around and urged her back into the bathroom. Wordlessly he filled up the enamel basin with warm water, then, wringing out the washcloth at the side of the pink soap dish, he sat Bliss down on the closed toilet seat and proceeded to very gently and carefully wipe her face clean. Twisting her hands together in her lap, Bliss wished she didn’t suddenly feel like a small child again because the memory of needing her mother’s touch was so raw right then that if she allowed herself to cry just one tear it would be quickly followed by a torrent.
‘Thank you.’
‘Do you want to brush your teeth?’
At her slight nod, he emptied the water in the basin, lifted a toothbrush out of the enamel holder, squeezed on some toothpaste, then placed it very carefully into her hand. It wasn’t the most glamorous thing, Bliss decided—to have the man of your dreams standing in your bathroom watching you brush your teeth after you’d just been at your most vulnerable. She must look like the Angel of Death, she thought suddenly, and her first glance in the mirror above the basin as she brushed confirmed it.
‘Better now?’
His expression revealed very little, Bliss reflected nervously as he stood by the door watching her put her toothbrush back in its holder. She hoped he would be leaving soon so that she wouldn’t humiliate herself any further in front of him. She’d have to make the story she’d decided upon about a tummy bug sound pretty good if she was going to convince him she wasn’t about to die of something horrible. Already he was looking far too suspicious for her peace of mind.
‘Much better, thanks. I think I’ll go and get dressed now.’
’Giusto un momento.’
‘Pardon?’
Dante was staring in the direction of the little sea-grass waste-basket at the other side of the basin. When Bliss narrowed her gaze to squint at what had caught his attention, her stomach did a three hundred and sixty-degree roll inside her. Poking out of the top of the basket perched atop some discarded tissue paper was the pregnancy-test stick with its damning evidence clearly visible. Bliss had brought it home with her from Trudy’s to take a second and third look at it so that the evidence in front of her could properly sink in. Last night when she’d last used the bathroom she’d finally disposed of it…or thought she had. How could she have known that Dante really meant to stay the night as he had proposed? She had truly believed he would tire of sleeping on her uncomfortable couch and go back to his luxurious hotel suite in Belgravia. How wrong and how stupid could she be?
She clearly did take him for a fool! Dante thought furiously as the offending item poking out of the bin continued to fascinate him. He was a thirty-three-year-old, well-travelled, experienced man of the world. Did she not think that he would know what a pregnancy test looked like when he saw one? Now the white face and colourless lips, not to mention the retching, finally started to make sense. Bliss wasn’t ill; she was pregnant! And if he calculated the timing back to six weeks ago when he was last here—when he had failed to protect her—he did not have a single doubt that the baby was his.
‘You are pregnant…sì?’ He pronounced the question in a stunned monotone and Bliss’s heart started to race so fast that she had to sit down again on the loo seat.
‘I…I was going to tell you.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ Gone was the concern and tenderness that she’d witnessed when he’d washed her face. In its place was a coldness so icy that Bliss decided an arctic wind couldn’t be more blisteringly raw.
‘Why did you not tell me this yesterday when I arrived? The fact that you did not makes me assume you were going to keep this news from me. Why, Bliss? Were you planning on getting rid of the baby?’ Trembling with fury at the very thought, Dante felt a strongly male urge to haul her to her feet and shake the truth out of her right then. He didn’t question why he felt so angry and possessive of this unborn child. He only knew that when the realisation had dawned that Bliss was carrying his baby, the joy in his heart had sprung from here to heaven. This child was his and he was going to make sure he or she lacked nothing. There would never be issues about not belonging or feeling second best, as Dante had often suffered throughout his own childhood and adolescence.
As his words sank in Bliss’s expression turned to anger. ‘Of course I wasn’t planning on doing such a thing! How can you even think that when you don’t know the first thing about me?’
Dante’s lips looked cold and tight. ‘But you were going to keep this news from me? You would have let me walk out the door without telling me you were carrying my child. It is my child, isn’t it, Bliss? I do not believe you could have turned to another man so soon after we made love.’
He’d got that right. Bliss sighed inwardly. At least he wasn’t accusing her of sleeping with anyone else. Still, his obvious Italian male pride had kicked in, and he clearly knew his passionate attentions would put any other man who attempted the same firmly in the shade. It made Bliss grow hot even now to remember them.
‘I only found out yesterday. I just thought I had a cold and a tummy upset. I never imagined I might be—be pregnant.’ She knew the hectic colour that rose in her cheeks belied her words. Now she was consumed with embarrassment and guilt at thinking she could fool herself into denying the true fact of the matter, as well as feeling bad that she had obviously lied to Dante. But everything had happened so quickly…so unexpectedly. Neither of them had taken time to think about the consequences of what they’d done.
&nbs
p; Because she had grown up with chaos, Bliss had consciously striven to try and counteract that effect in her adult life by trying to instil some order; some control. But she hadn’t been thinking about control or self-restraint when she’d given herself to Dante in such an abandoned way that morning, she was ashamed to realise. Instead she had allowed herself to get carried away in the thrill of a moment that she’d convinced herself only happened once in a lifetime, and now she was facing the dire consequences of her actions.
‘And now we have to talk about what we are going to do, no?’
He said this in such a way that Bliss instinctively knew he had already made his mind up about what action to take. Her spine started to tingle with indignation before she even replied.
‘I’m keeping the child,’ she said firmly, lifting her chin to emphasise the point. ‘You can, of course, have visitation rights. As long as you let me know when you’re coming I won’t make things difficult.’
‘No!’
Dante’s head had started to spin at the idea that Bliss would keep the child and shut him out. Just as he had been shut out as a small boy, made to feel different, as if he weren’t worthy of the love others received. And how would Bliss fare on her own as a single parent? His gaze swept the clean but tired-looking bathroom, seeing all the things that made it clear to him that her lifestyle was nowhere near as comfortable or as affluent as his own, and Dante knew he didn’t want her to endure such a struggle. A little muscle throbbed at the side of his temple as he tried to establish some command over his feelings, but his efforts were demolished in an instant when he suddenly thought about the very real possibility of Bliss meeting someone else who would help raise his child. What if they did not treat the baby right? Or, God help them—if they were cruel in any way? Dante couldn’t bear the terrifying thought of history repeating itself.
‘No?’ Feeling her body start to tremble at the rage in his eyes, Bliss smoothed the flimsy material of her wrap down over her knees and linked her hands nervously together in her lap. Squaring those magnificently broad shoulders of his as if he was preparing himself for a verbal war, Dante sliced his hand through the air to reiterate his objection more passionately.
‘Do not talk to me about visitation rights, Bliss, or you will find yourself in court up against the best lawyers money can buy! I will not be told I need to have permission to visit my own flesh and blood! I intend to be a proper father to this child we have made together and I also intend for you to be a proper mother. To achieve this end you will marry me and come to live with me in Italy. There is no other option to which I am open, comprende?’
Bliss’s mouth dropped open. She could hardly believe what he was saying. When they’d parted last, he’d indicated that they might see each other from time to time, but, although she’d allowed herself to hope that he meant it, she hadn’t honestly really believed she would ever see him again. Now she had and he was proposing to marry her because he’d found out she was pregnant!
She leapt to her feet, her expression agitated. He couldn’t really want to marry her, could he? Wasn’t he acting purely out of a sense of obligation or, even worse, guilt? Marriage on such terms could be nothing but disastrous in Bliss’s book.
‘Now, wait just a minute here. I don’t want to get married! I told you about my feelings on marriage when we first met. You can’t force me, Dante. I am a free woman and I can make my own decisions about what I will or will not do in my life!’
‘Think about what you are so eager to refuse, Bliss.’ Meeting her defiant, disturbed gaze, Dante only knew that he had to drive home the fact that he was deadly serious about marrying her. He would not give up the idea of being a proper father to his child without a fight. He would not be shut out again. ‘How hard will it be for you to raise a child on your own? I am a very wealthy man and I am willing to assume my proper responsibility regarding this situation. In my opinion it would be extremely foolish for you to turn your back on the chance for our child to have a proper upbringing with two parents fully committed to his welfare. I am right, no?’
As she wrapped her arms around her chest and stared at him mutely as if the answer to his question had completely deserted her Dante pushed home his advantage with his heart throbbing heavily inside his chest.
‘You must put aside your reluctance to marry in favour of doing what is best for the child. Do not worry, you will be more than amply provided for and taken care of. I have a luxurious house in Rome and an equally magnificent apartment in Milan. You will never again have to do work that you despise. Is that not worth the sacrifice of marrying me?’
God help her, where was this leading? Now it seemed that she had goaded him too far, because he was clearly taking umbrage at the fact that she thought marriage to him could only be a sacrifice. He had no idea of the intensity of her feelings for him at all. No idea that if she hadn’t fallen pregnant, she would have secretly loved to have been courted by him. Her heart would have jumped for joy at the mere idea that he might consider choosing her as his girlfriend—but now all chances of some kind of romantic courtship were dashed for good. Now Dante only wanted to marry Bliss to do the right thing for his child. He hadn’t even mentioned having any kind of feelings for her at all. Disaster beckoned with a capital ‘D’.
‘Why did you come back, Dante?’ Her emotions raw, Bliss bit down heavily on her tender lower lip, feeling far too vulnerable and exposed in her flimsy wrap to have any kind of advantage at all. Now wasn’t the time for vulnerability. Now was the time to act with some strength. But with Dante’s coolly emerald eyes pinning her to the floor, and he in contrast looking so clearly in charge and self-possessed, all Bliss wanted to do right now was to escape his gaze as quickly as she could. She needed time on her own to calm herself and think through the situation more rationally, because it was almost impossible to think straight with Dante in the same room as her.
To her intense surprise he grinned sexily in answer to the question she’d asked, further scattering all possibility of calmness to the four winds.
‘I very much liked making love to you, Bliss. When a man makes such a deep connection to a woman…of course he wants to come back.’
‘So you came back because you liked the sex?’ Biting down on her lip even harder, Bliss couldn’t prevent the hotly sensuous ache that suddenly made her limbs feel treacherously weak. His heated, piercing gaze deliberately lingering on her body as if he was mentally peeling back her clothing to reveal her naked skin underneath, Dante shrugged as if the answer to that was obvious.
‘Do not pretend you are offended, innamorata. You are a beautiful, sensuous woman with hot, passionate blood in her veins. At least that will be one part of our marriage that should work beautifully…sì?’
Her embarrassed gaze sliding quickly away from his, Bliss was consumed with both doubt and anticipation at the idea of being married to a man like Dante di Andrea and sharing his bed. Then, almost as soon as she’d let the idea play out in her mind, she realised with a shock what she was contemplating. She didn’t want to get married at all! She knew that, had always known it. None of the examples of the married state she’d known had lent themselves to persuading Bliss to do the same. She had to look no further than her parents’ ultimately disastrous union. Dante meant well, Bliss was certain, but this was no proposal born out of love—he had only proposed marriage because he felt duty-bound, because of the child she was expecting. How many marriages had started off in the same way and fallen at the first hurdle?
‘I told you, Dante, I don’t want to get married…not now, not ever. We can both still be responsible parents without being married. Lots of people—’
Exasperated and angry that she would not easily come round to his point of view, Dante finally lost his temper.
‘I do not care what other people do or not do! I only care what I, Dante di Andrea, must do! I have fathered a child with you and I take full and complete responsibility for that. Do you think I would go home to Italy to my family
and tell them I have abandoned the mother of my expected child in England? I have a good reputation amongst my peers and my family. Do you imagine I would willingly jeopardise that because you are acting so irresponsibly?’
‘I’m not acting irresponsibly! For goodness’ sake, Dante, think about what you’re suggesting! We hardly know each other, yet you’re expecting me to marry you and go to Italy with you just like that!’
‘We will remedy the fact we do not yet know each other well by living together. I will take some time off from my work and spend it with you. You will not want for anything, I promise you.’
‘I—I have a life here, Dante. I’m starting a new job on Monday.’
He honed in on her statement with ruthless intensity, like an eagle swooping down on his terrified prey. ‘What kind of life do you have here, Bliss? You have no family to support you. Tragic as that is, I am only too willing to make up for the deficit. I am offering to marry you and give you a much better, higher standard of living in Italy than you have here. If your mother was alive and you knew where to contact your father, do you think they would be happy that their daughter gave birth to an illegitimate child and struggled on welfare to keep a roof over their heads?’
That telling little muscle at the side of his temple throbbed furiously, illustrating to Bliss that his anger was white hot. But she wouldn’t let his superior attitude railroad her into a decision she was unhappy with—no matter how much she might secretly fantasise it could all work out for the best.
‘My parents were far too wrapped up in their own problems to worry about me, so I don’t suppose it would have made much difference to them whether I stayed here or moved to Timbucktu!’ Her distress multiplied with every word she uttered. Brushing back her hair with trembling fingers, she exhaled a long, slow breath to try and hold back feelings that were akin to an open wound being mercilessly rubbed with salt.
Recognising the relentlessly bleak expression in her eyes as the kind of pain that came from enduring a hurt that ran fathoms deep, Dante sighed and shook his head, reining in his temper. He didn’t mean to add to her mental suffering. All he wanted to do was make her see that he was genuinely promising to be the best husband and father he could be. Surely she couldn’t prefer to live here in almost poverty than come to Italy with him and live a life of luxury and ease? Already they had a powerful physical attraction for one another. Dante might not be able to fully commit his heart to this woman, but in every other way she would not have reason to find him lacking.