‘That sounds wonderful.’
She smiled up at him and he instantly remembered the moment he’d first seen that smile directed at him. He’d walked into the party, not really wanting to be there, and he’d seen her. Despite the fact that she’d been working she’d looked glamorous and very sexy in a black silk dress which had caressed her curvy figure, making him want to touch her, hold her.
He’d wanted her from that moment and had used his charm to achieve just that. Little had he known that his usual sense of control and self-preservation would fail him the moment they first kissed.
‘Is it not usual for women to feel ill in the mornings when they are pregnant?’ He couldn’t keep the scepticism from his voice as the thoughts which had invaded his dreams last night clouded round him once more. He had no proof that she was pregnant. He’d taken her word not only for that, but for the fact that he was the father. He would take the advice his legal team had given him when drawing up the contract and have his own doctor confirm the pregnancy.
‘Yes.’ She smiled at him again, apparently oblivious to his suspicions. ‘Thankfully I don’t seem too troubled by that and I hope it stays that way.’
‘Bene. First we eat—then we will deal with the contract.’ He pulled out a chair for her and waited for her to sit, but knew instantly that had been a mistake as the scent of her freshly washed hair mingled with her perfume, invading his senses so fast he wanted to lower his head, kiss her hair and inhale her, then scoop her up and take her to his bed.
He’d forced himself to walk away from her last night, but could he do it again?
He stepped back. Away from such temptation. Nothing could happen between them. This wasn’t a fling. Nothing about this was casual at all, and the last thing he needed was to complicate it further and get involved. He could never be involved.
He watched her as she ate, realising he hadn’t ever had breakfast with a woman he hadn’t slept with the previous night. In fact he rarely even had breakfast with women, preferring instead to leave the bed and give a very clear message. So why did sitting across the table from a woman who’d been so tired he’d had to help her to undress before tucking her into his bed and then gallantly leaving her alone feel so inviting?
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ she said, her shyness returning as she blushed. ‘Falling asleep like that, I mean. You must think I’m very rude.’
‘I think you were tired from travelling in your condition.’ He poured fresh coffee and tried hard not to allow the image of her asleep on his bed, hair splayed out around her, to return to his mind and torment him. She’d looked so vulnerable, so beautiful, and all he’d wanted to do was look after her. But could he do that? He hadn’t been able to look after his own brother, so how could a woman he’d just met be any different?
‘Well, I’m refreshed and feeling much more myself today, thank you.’
‘Prego.’ He pushed the black thoughts away and picked up the contract which he’d seen her glance at several times, as if it was a dog that might bite her at any moment. ‘This has been drawn up according to the terms we discussed yesterday, and once signed it will bind us together in our deal for a minimum of two years.’
‘And the baby?’
Her question rocked him but he kept his focus, portraying outward control even if inside he was far from controlled.
‘I will be a part of my child’s life for ever.’
The firmness and passion in his voice shocked him—as did the realisation that it was what he wanted. His child wouldn’t be born illegitimate, with the odds stacked against him. His child would have everything he could possibly give it to succeed in life.
‘But we will both be free to end the marriage in two years and during that time we can live separately—once the main objectives of the deal are achieved, that is.’
‘The main objective for you being to secure a business deal?’
The accusation in her voice hit its mark, making his requirement seem insignificant in the face of hers. The deal had been his initial motivation, but as the implications of their few steamy hours together that night had sunk in he’d known he would do anything for his child. There was no way he would walk out and never look back. He was not his father.
‘Di preciso.’ Briefly English failed him as the truth of his thoughts penetrated deep into him. ‘Exactly. But if I do not secure my business deals then I will not have the means to give my child much.’
‘You could give it love.’
Her words smarted in the wound she was opening. One he’d long since thought healed.
Love was the one thing he couldn’t give. Anyone he’d given that to had gone from his life. His father, his brother... With the exception of his feelings for his mother, love was one emotion he could not do, because by doing so he’d risk everything. Love hadn’t stopped his father walking away when he and Alessio were young. It hadn’t stopped his brother from falling in with those gangs, and it hadn’t helped at all when for years he’d not even known where Alessio was. It certainly hadn’t helped when he’d discovered the truth of his brother’s death.
Love was a futile and wasted emotion.
‘My child, my heir, will have everything it needs—of that you can be assured.’
She looked at him, those green eyes smouldering with doubt—a doubt which beat wildly within him right now. Did she have any idea what she was asking of him with those words?
‘That is all I want for my child, Dante. The love and security of knowing its father, of being able to have a good relationship with him as I did with mine.’
* * *
Piper tried to push thoughts of her father aside. Now, in the face of Dante’s scepticism, was not the time to remember just how much she missed her father. The grief of losing him was still raw after all these months. It was why she’d sought solace in Dante’s arms that night, why she’d given herself to him—that and the powerful attraction which had sparked between them.
‘This is the contract.’
He pushed the papers across the table to her, his hand lingering on it as if he wasn’t sure he actually wanted her to have it. She saw the gold of his signet ring gleam in the lights above.
She sighed, not sure she should be signing anything, but she couldn’t stay like this, in limbo from reality, not knowing what was going to happen. At least this way her child stood some chance of having a father who was around. He passed her a pen and she looked again at his ring. It was engraved with the letter A. Was that the initial of a past lover?
‘One signature on each copy,’ he said firmly, pulling her back from her thoughts.
‘There,’ she said as her name sprawled across the line. ‘It’s official.’
‘Bene. Now we will need to purchase a ring.’
His words brought her crashing back to the present.
‘Is that necessary when it is only an engagement for show and a marriage on paper?’
‘Sì, cara, it is. As are a few other changes.’
‘Changes?’ Trepidation filled her. What else did he have planned?
He walked towards her, his eyes seeming to devour her, sending sparks of awareness all over her body, just as they’d done that night in London.
‘You have changed, cara, since we met in London.’
She frowned, taking in his words. Was she not good enough for him? The spiteful rejection from her days at school rushed back at her. Then, her lack of vision in one eye had been all too obvious, and some of her classmates had thought it amusing to taunt her. Now, after the operations her father had insisted she have, her disability was not so obvious. Although the ability to see with her left eye would never be possible, it was far less noticeable.
‘This is who I am, Dante, not the woman you met in London.’
‘I disagree. But right now I need to buy you a ring—one that will announce to the world that you are my intended bride.’
‘And make you look like a man with true family values?’ She couldn’t keep the
barb out of her voice.
‘Di preciso. Now, if you are ready, we shall go and make our purchase.’
* * *
Half an hour later Dante’s car arrived in the centre of Rome, in an area which thronged with locals and tourists alike. The winter sun was warm and for a moment she relished it after having spent the last few months experiencing her first British winter.
‘This way,’ he said as he leant close to her ear, and his words sent a whisper of tingles down her spine as he spoke.
At least this time he was standing on her right side and she’d known he was there—although that wasn’t entirely a good thing if the way she’d reacted to his nearness was anything to go by.
‘I have arranged a private consultation with one of Rome’s most renowned jewellers.’
To her surprise he took her hand as they began walking through the crowded streets. When had he arranged that? With a sinking heart she realised that the father of her child, the man she’d agreed to marry, moved in a very different world from the one she was used to. He could just make a call and demand what he wanted.
Nerves skittered inside her tummy like erratic butterflies as he stopped outside a shop whose windows were a source of curiosity for quite a number of people, and she blushed as some glanced their way when Dante pushed open the door. Instantly they were greeted by a member of staff, but the fast-flowing Italian became too difficult for her very limited knowledge of the language.
‘We are honoured to be of service to you, signorina.’
The man’s English proved to be better than her Italian and made her feel a little less apprehensive. At least she would know what was being said.
‘If you’d like to come this way, Signor Mancini?’
Dante stood back and waited for her to follow the older gentleman, and within minutes they were in a small but elegantly furnished room.
‘I have followed your instructions, signor, on what the signorina prefers, and have arranged a selection of rings for you to view.’
Piper tried hard to keep the smile on her lips, to appear as if this was real instead of the nightmare it had suddenly become. She had to remember this wasn’t an engagement in the true sense of the word. Just as the contract she had signed that morning reminded her that their marriage would not be a real one. Putting a ring on her finger was no different from putting her signature on the contract he’d so insistently laid out on the breakfast table.
‘Piper?’
Dante’s voice, close to her left side, startled her again. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, trying to quell the racing of her heart—which she suspected had more to do with the man himself than with being startled. Quickly recovering, she gestured to the table and the array of rings set on a deep blue velvet display tray. ‘I’ve never seen anything quite like this.’
‘This is just the beginning,’ he said softly.
The darkness of his eyes shone with unwavering adoration and for a moment she was almost fooled—almost believed that he did love her and wanted nothing other than to make her his.
The harsh reality was quite different. It was not for any kind of sentimental reason and certainly not out of love.
‘This is enough for now.’ She blushed beneath his practised charm and when his brows flicked suggestively her stomach tied itself in knots and her breath caught audibly in her throat.
‘We should choose the ring now, cara, before I forget why we are here and kiss you.’
He looked at her, the intense blackness in his eyes smothering the caramel-brown she found so attractive. She could smell his aftershave and found her lips parting of their own free will as her breathing quickened and her pulse raced. Shyly she looked up at him as he moved closer still. Panic skittered through her. He was going to kiss her—here, in public.
A polite cough from the older man thankfully diverted Dante’s attention from her and for a moment she couldn’t get enough breath into her lungs. She focused on regaining her composure and took a seat at the desk, giving the glittering array of rings her undivided attention. She looked from one large stone to another, hardly able to believe she was sitting there, within touching distance of so many valuable and beautiful gems.
She felt Dante move behind her and her whole body heated from his nearness. But when he placed his hand on her shoulder and leant over her she thought she might pass out. Why was she behaving like this? He didn’t want her for anything other than to make him look good in a business deal. She would stake everything on the fact that he didn’t want to be a father. His reaction to her news had been cold and detached. Marriage had been the last thing she’d expected to hear him demand as she’d sat in his office yesterday, waiting for him to arrive, having been assured by his secretary that he wasn’t usually late.
‘Select whichever one you want.’ His voice was close to her left ear, but from the heat of his body against her back and the scorching of his hand on her shoulder she knew he was there. How could she not when her whole body had come to life?
‘They are all beautiful.’
She turned her head to try and look at him, and in doing so found his face very close to hers. So close that he could kiss her, press his lips to hers, with only the slightest effort. His gaze locked onto hers and she couldn’t look away. Not even when he lowered his head and very gently brushed his lips over hers.
Her eyes closed and her lips softened beneath his before he pulled back slightly and with endearing tenderness brushed his fingers over her cheek. ‘You outshine them all.’
Don’t be fooled. The voice of reason fought to be heard inside her head as that kiss, that gentle and brief feel of his lips on hers, unlocked everything she’d been trying to deny since that night in London.
Piper turned away and tried hard to focus on the rings before her as their gleam blurred and tears threatened. Now was not a time to give in to emotions.
She reached out and picked up a ring. ‘I like this one.’
Dante took the ring from her, then moved to her side, took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. It glinted as it sat, a perfect fit, on her third finger. She was so stunned by the sight of it she couldn’t speak, couldn’t say anything, and she certainly couldn’t look up at Dante—not when tears threatened to spill down her cheeks like a waterfall.
‘I think my bride has made her choice.’ His voice was deep and accented and so sexy—just as it had been that night in London. It had haunted her since he’d whispered such beautiful words in her ears as they’d made love that first and only night.
Piper couldn’t function, and she sat in a state of bewilderment as the older man fussed around them and then packed up the ring in the most elaborate box. All she could do was watch as Dante produced his credit card and paid for the ring, which effectively meant he’d paid for her, a bargaining tool for the deal he just had to win.
But to her the price was much higher. To her this was all about her child—the only reason she’d accepted such a deal.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT HAD BEEN three days since Dante had bought the ring, which had sealed the deal far more conclusively than any contract she’d signed. Each night she’d slept alone in his bed, and not once since that light but lingering kiss in the jeweller’s had he tried to get close to her again. Neither had he done anything to suggest he wanted their arrangement to be more than a marriage on paper. He’d made it clear that whatever had exploded into life so spectacularly between them in London was over as far as he was concerned.
That kiss as they’d chosen the ring and those gestures had all been for the benefit of the jeweller. Her shock at the disappointment that knowledge had brought still weighed heavily on her as she stood in the apartment while Dante finished a call.
She felt as uneasy and out of place as she had that first morning as she listened to him, and then registered that he was talking in English.
‘Xander will also call you,’ he said, and glanced up, seeing her for the first time. He ended the call and turned his
full attention to her. ‘Buongiorno, cara.’
The sensual depth in his voice did little to assuage her disillusioned mind-set.
‘Buongiorno,’ she replied, testing his language and liking the feel of it almost as much as the approval which showed clearly in his sexy dark eyes.
Don’t go there, Piper, she silently warned herself, determined to remember why she’d flown to Rome in search of a man whose name she hadn’t known until she’d seen that article.
‘I trust you slept well.’ As usual he was the epitome of charm and courtesy.
‘I did, thank you,’ she replied, and her guilt at keeping him from his bed made looking at him as they sat at the table almost impossible.
‘Bene.’
He poured her coffee, but for the first time since she’d discovered she was pregnant the aroma made her feel queasy and she opted for a glass of water instead. She looked up at him as he spoke again.
‘You have a busy day ahead of you.’
She tried to work out what it was she should be doing. For three days she’d been cooped up here in his apartment, more like a prisoner than a guest. She’d called her mother, who had wanted her to go straight home, as had Katie and Jo, her friends in Australia, when they’d emailed. But where was home? In London with her mother? In Sydney with her happy past? Or here in Rome with the father of her child?
Confusion added to the feeling of nausea. ‘I do?’
‘Sì. I have arranged for someone to help you select a new wardrobe of clothes.’
She watched as he drank his coffee, oblivious to anything else except what he wanted. He certainly hadn’t noticed she couldn’t face any food this morning.
‘I don’t need new clothes.’ She forced the words out, trying to focus her mind and not show this man any weakness—something she’d learnt long ago shouldn’t be done.
‘You are now my fiancée, Piper, and whilst you looked every bit the kind of woman who would ensnare my interest when we met in London, you would not convince many people now. For you to fit in with my world there need to be some changes.’
Married for the Italian's Heir Page 5