Her Brooding Italian Boss

by Susan Meier

  “You don’t need me for this one,” her mom yelled back as she opened the car door and slipped inside. “I’ve got a key. I’ll listen to the radio and be fine.”

  Laura Beth sighed and turned to walk to the back door of the brand-new house. Of course it didn’t have sidewalks. The contractor hadn’t poured them yet. And since when was her mom so picky? For Pete’s sake. She’d eagerly seen the other three houses, but it had been like wrestling a bear to get her to come with her to see this house, and when push came to shove she wouldn’t even go inside.

  Whatever. She was an adult now. Able to make a decision about a house without her mommy.

  She marched to the back door, pushed it open and called, “Hello? Anybody here?” It was a stupid question, since the Realtor’s red Cadillac was in the driveway. Of course, he was here.

  Still, before she could call again, the kitchen caught her attention. Happy green wood cabinets with creamy granite countertops filled a huge room that spilled out into a family room section. She let her purse slide to the floor and walked a little farther inside. She could put a table in the area with the bay window that would let in the morning sun, and decorate the family room area with sturdy furniture to accommodate her baby.

  Her baby.

  Her heart fluttered a bit. In the past four days of refusing to think about Antonio, she’d spent a lot of time wondering about her baby, thinking about whether it was a boy or girl, knowing she had to get a house set up before he or she was born.

  “Hello?” she called again, heading for the big formal dining room. Seeing the high ceilings, she immediately pictured Antonio painting. Not green walls or white trim. But a mural. He’d love this space.

  Pain pinged through her and she shook her head, reminding herself she wasn’t allowed to think about him.

  “Hello?” She walked out of the dining room and into a living room with a huge stone fireplace. Her first thought was of Antonio insisting they buy some kind of funky furniture for the room, or maybe artifacts from a dig in Mongolia. She laughed and this time reminded herself more sternly that she wasn’t allowed to think about him. But that only caused her to realize the reason she kept thinking about him was that the house was probably out of her price range. Constanzo had been generous, but he wasn’t an idiot. He hadn’t given her enough to buy a mansion. And though Tucker had called and offered her a job, she fully intended to be wise with her money and not overspend.

  As she walked up the sweeping stairway to the second floor, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she couldn’t afford this house. Searching for the real estate agent, she knew she had to tell him that she didn’t want it. The place was huge. The master bedroom alone could fit two of the New York City apartment she’d shared with Eloise and Olivia.

  She ambled into the bathroom, which had brown tiles, a travertine floor and a double-sink vanity.

  “Hey.”

  She spun around. Expecting to see her Realtor, she gasped when she saw Antonio standing in front of the open stone shower. Because he was the last person she expected to see on the outskirts of tiny Starlight, Kentucky, she opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing there, but no words came out.

  He looked crazy amazing. His hair was a mess, the way it was after a day of painting, her favorite time with him—which made her wonder if she was having some kind of sadness-related hallucination.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The best way to end a hallucination would be to force it to talk. If he said something impossible—like that he loved her—she would know she was imagining things.

  “I heard you’re in the market for a house.”

  Now, that was an illusion if she ever heard one. Her Antonio didn’t talk about commonsense, normal stuff. Still, she answered, “Yes.”

  “Do you like this one?”

  She laughed and glanced around. “Jeez, who wouldn’t? Everything is gorgeous, but I think it’s too big.”

  He pushed off the shower wall. “Of course it’s big. You’re looking at it because you’re thinking down the line to when you have more kids. Anticipating, like Constanzo.”

  She laughed out loud. Good Lord, her imagination was powerful. “I’m going to have trouble enough raising one child.”

  “Your mother will help.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I know.”

  He stepped toward her. “I will help.”

  “Okay, time to end this hallucination.”

  He laughed. “I wondered why you were so calm. You think I’m a figment of your imagination?”

  She winced and squeezed her eyes shut. Her time with him had seemed like a dream. The four days since she’d been here in Starlight she’d sort of vibrated with confusion. Was it any wonder she was having trouble with reality?

  “Okay. I’m an idiot.” Her eyes popped open. “What are you doing here?”

  “Constanzo forced me to talk about our relationship and to forgive him.”

  “Oh.”

  “Weird, huh?”

  Not half as weird as having the love of her life in the bathroom of the house she was looking at. Tears filled her eyes as she took in his handsome face. He was everything she’d ever wanted. Even things she didn’t realize she wanted. But he didn’t love her. He’d said it. And by damn, she wanted to be loved.

  Passionately.

  Men who told you they didn’t love you did not fit that bill.

  She took a step back, away from him. “So what does Constanzo forcing you to forgive him have to do with you being here?”

  “I looked at your Realtor’s offerings and I decided this is the best house for us.”

  Her heart stuttered, but absolutely positive she hadn’t heard correctly, she said, “For us?”

  “I’ve done some thinking in the past few days.” He walked around the big bathroom. “And my dad forced me to do even more thinking. He made me realize my problem was that I couldn’t trust anyone.”

  She bristled. She already knew that and so did he. So what the hell was he doing talking about a house for them? “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

  “I thought I couldn’t trust anyone. You could have been the woman in the moon and I would have held myself back.” He caught her gaze. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

  She sniffed. “Right.”

  “I am.”

  “So you’re asking me to accept second-best? You want us to live in this house together, but only if I can accept that you’ll never trust me? Wow. You’re a piece of work.”

  He laughed, but walked closer and stopped in front of her. “I’m not a piece of work.” He tapped her nose. “And if you don’t let me finish this in my own way, nothing’s ever going to be right between us.”

  She frowned. But he put a finger over her lips to silence her. “I’m not asking you to live with me. I’m not saying that I don’t trust you. I do trust you. I think I have for a while. It took weeks for me to tell you my story, but eventually you got the whole thing out of me.”

  Her heart lifted, but she couldn’t let herself dare to believe. He’d hurt her because she allowed herself to fantasize that he might love her. She would not let him hurt her again. “I think the truth is you don’t trust yourself.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. You have to admit it takes a pretty stupid guy to marry a supermodel and not realize she’s using him.”

  Because he said it lightly, she almost laughed, but this conversation was too important. “You loved her.”

  “Yeah. I did.”

  Her heart felt the pinch of that. This man had been married to the woman dubbed the most beautiful woman in the world three times. Laura Beth knew Gisella hadn’t been as pure of heart as the rest of the world believed, but that couldn’t take away from her beauty. How could Laura Beth ever think a man like Anton
io would consider her beautiful?

  “But, Laura Beth, I love you more.”

  Her head snapped up. “You do?”

  “Yes.” He ran his finger along the line of her jaw. “You are sweet and fun and funny. You are also beautiful. So beautiful that my memories of silly women like Gisella disappear.”

  Her breath caught. “You don’t have to say things like that.”

  “I say only what’s true.” He slid his hands to her waist. “Now, will you live with me in this house?”

  Her breath shivered. Live with him? In Starlight, Kentucky? Where her mom and all her friends would see that he liked her enough to live with her but not to marry her?

  She stepped back. “No.”

  He blinked. “No?”

  “I know you’re scarred. I know it took moving mountains for you to trust.” Her chin lifted. “But I deserve better than living with you.”

  He laughed. “Oh, that is all?”

  She took another few steps back. “Don’t belittle what I want.” Her chin lifted even higher. “What I need.”

  He shook his head and removed a ring box from his back pocket. “I did this all wrong. I’m sorry.” He opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond. “Will you marry me?”

  She pressed her trembling lips together, met his gaze.

  “You are my heart and soul. You are what I’ve been searching for forever. My father thought things between him and me were awkward because I couldn’t forgive him. The truth was our relationship was awkward because it wasn’t what I was searching for. Yes, I need him in my life. But what I really wanted was love. A true love. You are that love.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Antonio.” She fell into his arms.

  And he breathed a sigh of relief. In those seconds with her arms around him and her body pressed against his, he felt his soul knit together. He felt his mother smiling down on him from heaven. He could see the family he and Laura Beth would create and that his place in the world wouldn’t be secured because he was a great artist, but because he would be a part of something bigger than himself. A family.

  And he could see his dad reveling in that.

  EPILOGUE

  ANTONIO AND LAURA BETH waited until baby Isabella was six months old before they had their wedding. With a huge white tent in the yard of Constanzo’s country home, the old billionaire about burst with pride as he greeted guests, Rosina at his side. Not as Antonio’s housekeeper or even a family friend. But as his fiancé.

  Laura Beth watched from the second-floor window of the room she, Olivia and Eloise used to dress for the wedding.

  “He is a crazy old man.”

  Pinning her veil into Laura Beth’s fancy updo, Olivia laughed. “He might be crazy, but he brought at least two of us together with our perfect mates.”

  “So maybe he’s wise,” Eloise said from her position kneeling between Laura Beth and a centuries-old vanity said to have been used by Marie Antoinette, as she straightened Laura Beth’s train. Eloise’s boss, Artie Best, had designed the pale peach bridesmaids’ dresses. But Eloise herself had created Laura Beth’s gown.

  With her hair up and her dress fastened, Laura Beth turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror. Strapless, her dress rode her curves and flared out a few inches below her hips to become a frothy skirt with lace trim. Sequins sparkled everywhere, including in the veil that flowed gracefully from her hair along her shoulders and to the floor.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Eloise clutched her chest. “You don’t like it?”

  “I told you in all three fittings that I love it.”

  Olivia said, “Then what’s wrong?”

  Laura Beth faced her friends. “I’m beautiful.”

  As Eloise collapsed with relief, Olivia hugged Laura Beth. “Of course you are. Now let’s get downstairs before Isabella starts crying for her mom.”

  The ceremony was a quiet but loving affair. Antonio looked amazing in his black tux, with her friends’ husbands as his groomsmen. The sun shone down on the white tent filled with happy friends.

  Just as the minister pronounced them man and wife, Isabella began to cry and Laura Beth took her from her mother, then Antonio took her from Laura Beth. She, Antonio and Isabella walked down the aisle to the sound of Constanzo sobbing loudly.

  With joy.

  They hoped.

  As they greeted their guests, she watched Constanzo cast a quick look to heaven. Obviously believing no one saw or heard, he quietly said, “See, carissima. I finally did right by our boy.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, but she totally understood.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE HEIRESS’S SECRET BABY by Jessica Gilmore.

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Romance.

  You adore a feel-good story! Harlequin Romance offers uplifting escapes featuring real, relatable women and strong, deeply desirable men. Experience the intensity, anticipation and sheer rush of falling in love.

  Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Romance every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  http://www.harlequin.com/harlequinexperience

  CHAPTER ONE

  My Secret Bucket List

  Swim in the sea, naked

  NB: in azure warm seas, not in the North Sea

  Sleep out under the stars

  Have sex on the beach

  NB: the real deal, not the cocktail

  Drink an authentic margarita

  Fall in love in Paris

  POLLY READ THE list through for the last time, feeling the carefree joie de vivre fall away and the old, familiar cloaks of respectability and responsibility settling back onto her shoulders. They were a little heavy, but maybe that was to be expected after three months away.

  Three months, five wishes. And she’d achieved four out of the five, which wasn’t bad going. The heaviness lifted for a second as the highlights of the last three months flashed through her mind and then it descended again.

  What had she been thinking? She might as well have written the list in a silver pen and decorated it with pink love hearts and butterflies, pinning it on her wall next to a lipstick-kiss-covered poster of a pre-pubescent boy band.

  Polly pulled the page out of her diary and, without allowing herself a second’s pause to reconsider, tore it into pieces. It was time to reposition her three-month sabbatical into something more appropriate for the new CEO of a company with a multimillion-pound turnover.

  She chewed on the end of her pen for a moment and then started a new list.

  My Bucket List

  Travel to the Galapagos Islands

  See the Northern Lights

  Walk the Inca Trail

  Write a book

  See tigers in the wild

  There, two achieved, three to aspire to and all perfectly respectable. Not a grain of sand in any place it definitely shouldn’t be...

  The large luxurious town car drew to a smooth halt and jolted her back into the present day, away from dangerous memories. ‘We’re here, Miss Rafferty. Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home first?’

  Polly looked up from her diary and drew in a breath at the sight of the massive golden stone building stretching all the way down the block. She was home. Back at the famous department store founded by her great-grandfather. She hadn’t expected to ever see it again, let alone to walk in as mistress of all that she surveyed.

  She s
tared at the huge picture windows flanking the iconic marble steps, her heart swelling with a potent mixture of love and pride. Each window told a tale and sold a dream. Rafferty’s could give you anything, make you anyone—if you had the money to pay for it.

  ‘This will be fine, Petyr, thank you. But please arrange for my bags to be taken back to Hopeford and for the concierge service to collect and launder them.’

  She didn’t want to set foot in Rafferty’s carrying her rucksack stuffed as it was with sarongs, bikinis and walking boots, no matter how prestigious the brand names on them. Polly had spent a productive night at a hotel in Miami turning herself back into Miss Polly Rafferty from Miss Carefree Backpacker—all it had taken was a little shopping, a manicure and a wash and blow-dry.

  She was back and she was ready.

  Petyr opened the car door for her and Polly slid out onto the pavement, breathing in deeply as she did so. Car fumes, perfume, hot concrete, fried food—London in the height of summer. How she’d missed it. She pulled down her skirt hem and wriggled her toes experimentally. The heels felt a little constrictive after three months of bare feet, flip-flops and walking boots but her feet would adjust back. She would adjust back. After all, this was her real dream; her time out had been nothing but a diversion along the way.

  Polly lifted her new workbag onto her shoulder and headed straight for the main entrance. She was going in.

  * * *

  ‘Hello, Rachel.’

  Oh, it had felt good walking through the hallowed halls, greeting the staff she knew by name and seeing the new ones jump as they realised just who was casting a quick, appraising eye over them. Good to see gossiping staff spring apart and how everyone suddenly seemed to find work to do.

  Good that nobody dared to catch her eye. There must have been talk after her abrupt disappearance but it didn’t seem to have affected her standing. She allowed herself a small sigh of relief.

  But it was also good to go in through the Staff Only door, to be buzzed in by old Alf and see the welcome on his face. Alf had worked for Rafferty’s since before Polly’s father was born and had always had a bar of chocolate and a kind word for the small girl desperately trailing after her grandfather, wanting, needing, to be included.