Resisting the Italian Single Dad

by Katrina Cudmore

  Carly wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t know.’ But then pausing, she admitted, ‘His first marriage was deeply unhappy. He’s infatuated with my mother—even I have to admit how much he loves her. Looking back, I think my relationship with my mum threatened him.’

  ‘And how is his relationship with his own daughters?’

  ‘I used to think my stepsisters had everything but now I can see how Alan plays one off against the other. It has created this weird insecurity in all three. They are outwardly super-confident but are constantly vying for their father’s attention. Adding me to that mix only added to their competition so they never welcomed me into their lives. When I was younger I was sometimes left in their care—they were all at university at that stage. The house would become party central. I thought it would be cool to hang out with them, but in reality I was pretty daunted by the amount of alcohol being consumed. And they weren’t too impressed with having their geeky stepsister follow them around everywhere.’

  Even though the waiter had returned with their main courses, Max didn’t wait to respond to what Carly had said. His voice incredulous, he said, ‘You were never geeky—you’re way too beautiful.’

  The waiter looked from Max to Carly. And nodded in agreement. ‘Sì, you are truly a beautiful woman.’

  Carly rolled her eyes, feeling herself blush from her toes to the tip of her head as Max and the handsome waiter shared a wicked grin.

  When the waiter had left, Carly eyed him across the table. ‘So you do possess the Italian charm your countrymen are fabled for.’ Her stomach flipped to hear Max’s low throaty laugh. ‘Trust me—with glasses, braces, a bad home dye and no clue how to dress... I really did look terrible as a teenager.’

  Max took a bite of his swordfish and then sat back in his chair, his gaze not leaving her. Carly cut into her sea bass and forced herself to eat a few mouthfuls, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze. She jumped when he eventually spoke, his voice like a low caress. ‘Sei irresistibile...you’re irresistible...you do know that?’

  For a moment she considered telling him the truth. Of how she had always felt like the ugly duckling next to her gorgeous stepsisters, how Robert’s love for his ex had further eroded her self-confidence. She shrugged off his question with a laugh. ‘I’m no supermodel so I try to focus on my inner beauty instead.’

  His eyes burnt into hers. ‘Most men aren’t looking for supermodels.’

  Her throat tightened. ‘What are they looking for?’

  ‘A woman who’s clever, one that radiates beauty through her kindness.’ His voice dropped a note. ‘A woman who knows how to love.’

  Carly’s heart spluttered to a stop. She searched for something to say and eventually she blurted out, ‘I reckon you should have a conversation with my stepfather. He still grumbles about the money he spent straightening my teeth.’

  ‘Perhaps one day I will.’

  Carly dropped her fork at the menace in his voice. And then she laughed, laughed until her sides ached. She could see Max squaring up to Alan, dragging him down a peg or two with his quick intelligence.

  Max raised an eyebrow at her laughter, a quiet smile on his lips.

  After a while Max pushed his plate away and rested an elbow onto the table, his hand cupping his chin. His eyes held understanding, respect. He didn’t say anything for a while, just quietly considered her. Carly knew she should look away but something too powerful, too amazing was passing between them. She couldn’t name it but it felt as though something was shifting between them.

  ‘You can always call on me and Isabella when we go back to London. It would be nice to see you.’

  Her heart lifted at his softly spoken words. With a shake of her head she asked, ‘Are you looking for some free professional advice?’

  He gave her a look that said she was incorrigible. ‘Obviously,’ he said, rolling his eyes. Then after a pause he added, ‘We get on...we have things in common.’ His voice dipped. ‘I find it easy to talk to you.’

  Disappointment threaded its way through her at the implication of his words that he wanted to meet as friends. She forced herself to make light of it all. ‘You forgot to add that we have the same taste in terrible jokes.’

  His eyes danced at that. ‘True.’

  Carly tried to look away from the fondness shining in his eyes. It would be so easy to fall for him, to believe that there was something more than an odd friendship between her and a billionaire single father still grieving his late wife. Perhaps Max was right when he argued that she wasn’t cynical, but she was a realist and resilient. Both traits drove her to say, ‘Let’s not make any promises we can’t keep.’ Looking around for the waiter, she added, ‘I think we should ask for the bill. It will be Isabella’s nap time soon.’

  Max nodded, but then he reached down to the side of his chair. Lifting a bag, he removed first a toddler’s white full-skirted dress embroidered with silver butterflies and then a pair of matching silver shoes with clipped-on silver butterflies. Carly exclaimed at the cuteness of both. Max smiled in delight, pausing to ask if she thought they were the right size for Isabella. And in his uncertainty, in his keen concern that Isabella would like her new clothes, Carly felt any last vestiges of cynicism ebb away like ice melting beneath a seductively warm sun.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ISABELLA’S FEET TAPPED proudly on the wooden floor of her bedroom and then, stopping, she once again inspected her new silver shoes, lifting her right foot up, waiting for Carly’s approval.

  ‘Oh, Isabella, they’re the most beautiful shoes ever.’

  Isabella gave a nod of agreement. Carly bit back a smile; Max was going to have serious shoe bills when Isabella was a teenager.

  ‘Now come here and let me do the buttons on your dress,’ Carly said from her seat on the side of Isabella’s bed, opening her arms out wide in invitation.

  Isabella eyed her, seriously at first but then something glittered in her eyes. Carly laughed. Isabella had inherited her father’s mischievousness after all.

  Backing away, Isabella ran to the other side of the room, an impish angel in her new white shimmering dress.

  Carly liked to play fair so, throwing off her shoes, she climbed down onto her knees. Crawling across the room, she took care not to kneel on the heavy skirt of her dress. A quick check told her all was well in the décolletage area—the bra cups of the dress were thankfully holding everything in place, just as the sales assistant had assured her.

  Isabella squeaked in delight as Carly neared her. ‘I’m going to catch you.’

  Flapping her arms, Isabella dashed off giving Carly a wide berth.

  Carly swung around. Chased after her.

  By the time Carly caught Isabella, her arm wrapping affectionately around her waist and lifting her up, her knees were starting to ache and with a sigh she plopped them both down onto Isabella’s bed. Singing a nursery rhyme, jigging her legs playfully, she did up the zip of the dress and then the tiny buttons that ran along the zip seam.

  Her heart gave a little quiver when Isabella started to hum along to the tune.

  And when Carly set an all-buttoned-up Isabella down onto the floor and Isabella turned and placed both of her hands on Carly’s cheeks and playfully squeezed them it felt as if fireworks had exploded in her soul.

  Carly let out a playful gasp, pretending to be surprised. And crossed her eyes.

  Isabella chuckled.

  Carly lifted her back up onto her lap and began to lightly tickle her. Isabella squirmed and laughed.

  When the game was over they were both a little breathless and happy to sit for a while to gather themselves.

  It was only then that Carly saw Max leaning against the doorframe watching them, a hand in one pocket suggesting that he had been standing there for some time. Carly swallowed, her already unsteady heart doing a few flips. He was dressed in a black tuxedo that em
phasised the dark tones of his skin, the broadness of his shoulders, the long length of his legs, his curls tamed by some hair product; his gaze caught hers and something potent whipped between them. ‘You two look amazing in your new dresses,’ he said in a low husky tone that sent a jolt of pure attraction through her body.

  Isabella climbed off her lap and toddled over to him. Carly stood and fixed her dress. Max lifted Isabella into his arms and Carly tried to ignore the burning heat from his gaze, which was still on her. She touched her hair, making certain it was still in the bun she had pushed it into when dressing earlier.

  Max, with Isabella in his arms, walked towards her, his gaze once again sweeping over her. Carly waited for him to speak. There was a hum of attraction...and, okay, she would admit it, sexual tension, in the room. Carly inhaled deeply wishing Max would talk, break the connection that had somehow left her incapable of speech.

  Too late Carly realised she was fiddling with the front of her dress, adjusting the neckline a few centimetres. She dropped her hand, blushed when Max’s gaze remained there.

  She cleared her throat. Scrabbled her brain for something to say. ‘Luciana told me you were working so, after her nap, I gave Isabella an early dinner and bathed her for the party. She slept really well.’ Carly paused and touched her hand against Isabella’s new shoes. ‘Didn’t you, sweetheart? And you just love the new dress and shoes Papa bought for you, don’t you?’

  Carly laughed at the delighted squeal Isabella gave.

  Max considered Isabella with surprised amusement. ‘I’ll have to buy you more dresses if this is the reaction I’ll get.’

  As if to say yes, Isabella buried her head into his shoulder. Max’s large hand gently capped Isabella’s head. Then his gaze travelled down the length of Carly’s body, a low, slow deliberate gaze. ‘You’re looking very beautiful.’ He paused, his eyes darkening. ‘Potrei guardarti tutta la notte... I could watch you all night.’

  Startled and with way too many parts of her body about to go into meltdown, Carly grabbed her phone and, calling to Isabella, said, ‘Time for a father and daughter photo, I reckon.’

  Isabella thankfully turned and, though she was once again serious eyed, she co-operatively stared into the camera as Carly made cooing noises to keep her attention.

  Max laughed out loud, his head falling back.

  ‘Isabella is being the perfect subject but you’re making it impossible to take a photo,’ Carly chided Max.

  ‘It’s those noises you make...you sound like a pigeon.’

  Carly threw him an indignant look. Max made a valiant attempt to sober but his eyes were still heavily creased in laughter lines in each of the photos.

  When Carly declared the job done, Max said, ‘Thanks.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I’ve had my photo taken with Isabella... It’s something I need to do more of.’

  ‘I promise I won’t make the pigeon noises the next time.’

  ‘Do, they’re cute.’ Then, shifting backwards, he asked, ‘Are you ready to go?’

  ‘I just have to grab my purse from my bedroom.’

  ‘Meet us outside—on the terrace.’

  Uncertain why they were heading to the terrace when they should be heading for the carport, after a quick check on her make-up, Carly joined Max and Isabella out there. In the brilliant evening sunshine, Max was crouched down next to Isabella, chatting to her while Isabella had her nose firmly pressed against a large candyfloss-like white and pink-tipped peony.

  When Max heard her approach he lifted Isabella into his arms, and, pulling his phone out of his tux jacket, said, ‘I reckon we need a group photo.’

  Self-consciously, Carly stood next to Max, her spine stiff. Her unease soon ended, however, when Isabella lunged towards her and, wrapping an arm around her neck, pulled her in tight against Max. Max laughed and Carly tried to smile but it was rather disturbing to have her breast held prisoner against Max’s arm, to have her belly pressed against his hip. She tried to pull away but Isabella held on tight.

  Max gazed down at her. Her breath held at the dark awareness in his eyes.

  He glanced down at his imprisoned arm and her body pressed against it. ‘I hate to break this up, but I can’t take a photo now.’

  His tone was way too deep and throaty.

  She nodded wildly in agreement but Isabella still refused to let go. In the end Max managed to wrap his arm around Carly, pulling her more or less centre of his body in doing so, and Carly smiled into the camera, knowing her cheeks were glowing as Isabella’s hold pulled the entire length of her body against the hard muscle of Max’s.

  Night had fallen and now that the birthday celebration meal was over, couples were out on the dance floor, twirling and twisting under the hundreds of fairy lights strewn across the courtyard.

  Beside him, on Valentina’s lap, Isabella giggled at Giovanni’s disappearing act behind his napkin. Max had been taken aback when Tomaso had told him they were to be seated at the top table along with the rest of the Ghiraldini family. Giulio had stared unhappily at Carly when she had taken her seat beside him. Given Valentina’s whispered words in Giulio’s ear and his shrug after, Max guessed it was at Valentina’s insistence that Carly got to sit with him and Isabella for the meal. If Giulio had had his way, Max reckoned Carly would have been seated in the further reaches of the courtyard...if not in the kitchen itself.

  Giulio’s mood hadn’t improved when Tomaso and Bianca, clearly taken with Isabella’s insistence on squeezing Carly’s cheeks tight at every available opportunity, chortling in delight when Carly crossed her eyes, had invited Carly to attend their wedding on Sunday.

  Max hadn’t thought that far ahead. It was the polite thing to do—he could hardly leave Carly at home while he and Isabella attended the wedding. But...this weekend with Carly was getting too intense. He was feeling things for her that he had no right to be feeling. Earlier when he had spotted her and Isabella playing on Isabella’s bed he had been torn between joy at Isabella’s happiness and guilt that it had taken an outsider to unleash the playful child in his daughter.

  When Carly had stood up his pulse had hit the roof. Her dress fitted her like a glove, the deep slash in the neckline revealing a tantalising glimpse of her breasts. He closed his eyes for a moment recalling how good it had felt to have her body pushed against his when he had taken their photo. How her hair had tickled his chin, her light floral perfume doing crazy things to his brain.

  Throughout the meal she had chatted to Giovanni about his life in Athens, where he headed up the family’s Greek subsidiary, and then excitedly with Tomaso and Bianca about their planned honeymoon trip to Croatia, giving them tips on little-known places to visit. Once or twice she had tried to engage with Giulio but he had shut down her attempts. Each time Carly would tense beside him, growing silent for a while as she absorbed Giulio’s rebuttal. Each time Max had glared in Giulio’s direction before chatting himself with Carly, wanting to ease her discomfort.

  Which made Carly’s invitation to Giulio to dance with her all the more puzzling. They were now out on the dance floor, Giulio leading Carly. At first they had danced together stiffly, barely a word passing between them, but now they were talking animatedly. What were they talking about? Max had the uncomfortable feeling it had something to do with him.

  When the song ended, Carly returned to the table but Giulio moved to the stage.

  Loud applause and whoops of encouragement followed his words of welcome to all of the guests. Max forced himself not to do an eye roll when Giulio gave a long name-check of all the politicians and celebrities present, often adding anecdotes of humorous encounters and experiences he had previously enjoyed with them.

  But then he looked towards their table and with deep emotion expressed his love for Valentina and his sons. He tried to continue but his voice caught. He cleared
his throat, attempted to continue but it sounded as if a vice were gripping Giulio’s throat. Panic stirred in Max. Please don’t mention her.

  Giulio puffed out his chest, gripped the microphone even tighter. ‘Great sadness has visited our family in recent years.’ Beside him Valentina stiffened. Isabella, sitting on her lap, looked curiously at Valentina as though sensing her upset.

  Up on the stage Giulio continued, his gaze not leaving their table. ‘At times my wife and I didn’t know how we would manage to carry on. But we will, for our beautiful boys, Tomaso, Giovanni...’ Pausing, Giulio shifted his attention towards Max. Max’s heart came to a standstill. ‘And Max.’ Giulio cleared his throat. Max felt as if he had been hit by a sledgehammer.

  ‘I’m ashamed to admit that it has taken losing my beloved Marta to fully realise that the only important thing in life is those whom you love.’ Once again Giulio’s gaze moved back to him. Max shifted in his seat, confounded by what he was hearing.

  ‘We all need to cherish our families, to be there for one another. Support one another. Not hide away, not be too proud to ask for help, to ask for what we need in life.’ There was an edge to Giulio’s voice now. Max rolled his shoulders, anger stirring in his belly. Was that what Giulio thought...that he was too proud and hiding away?

  ‘And it’s important to remember that, however dark the present is, there is always a future.’ Giulio’s tone lightened. ‘A future of weddings and new members in our family. Bianca... Isabella, our gorgeous granddaughter who gives us hope and purpose. Two years ago I didn’t think I would be able to stand here and talk to you as I celebrate my sixtieth birthday, but losing Marta has taught me that we should cherish life and each other, to embrace the future.’

  Around him, people stood to applaud Giulio, who stepped down from the stage with an extravagant bow of acknowledgement.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  He turned at Carly’s question, stared at her blankly for a few moments before saying, ‘We should head back to the villa... It’s beyond Isabella’s bedtime.’