Bound by the Billionaire's Vows

by Clare Connelly

  ‘No.’ Their marriage was about one thing, and one thing only. The hotel. A child would just have complicated matters further.

  How the hell had this even happened? She’d been on the pill, hadn’t she?

  ‘Your wife will be awake soon.’ The doctor leaned over and lifted one of Skye’s eyelids, then nodded confidently. ‘You will be able to ask her.’

  It was suddenly imperative for Matteo to know the truth. No, it was imperative for him to know that she hadn’t known. He couldn’t believe that Skye would have planned to keep this information from him. Despite the evidence against her, he still had hope. A part of him believed she would never do something as calculated as taking a baby from its father.

  No matter what he’d done, no matter what she believed, this was different. Their baby was not a pawn; it deserved better than to be used by either of them as a bargaining chip.

  But worse was the belief she hadn’t intended to use it as a bargaining chip at all. Worse was the realisation that she had simply meant to disappear. To get on a plane and fly out of his life, taking his son or daughter with her.

  He ground his teeth together and turned back to the bed.

  His heart rolled.

  It wasn’t possible.

  ‘Matteo? Where am I?’

  Her thin, raspy voice drew his attention. He stared at her long and hard before speaking. ‘You’re in the hospital. In Venice.’ His expression was guarded, but he felt anger in his every expression, beneath the mask of civility he had donned with effort.

  ‘Hospital?’ Her eyes swept shut. ‘I fell. No, I fainted. That happens sometimes.’

  ‘Since when?’ he demanded icily, moving closer.

  Her hands dropped to her stomach and he could see that she was in turmoil, that she was agonising over what to say. But apparently a need for reassurance eclipsed all other concerns. ‘Is he okay? Is my baby okay?’

  CHAPTER THREE

  EVERY SOUND IN the hospital was audible. The beeping of far-away machines monitoring the life signs of patients. The low-key chat of staff. The ringing of a phone. The whir of an overhead fan. Everything was audible in that way when things take on an almost supersonic quality in moments of shock and duress. The sounds had a brightness beyond their due.

  Skye waited, her breath held, her worry lurching desperately.

  ‘Matteo?’ It was a whisper. A strangled, hoarse cry. ‘Please tell me...’

  ‘Our baby is fine,’ he said with a coldness that perforated her relief and doused it in ice.

  Skye’s eyes fell closed. The whole point of coming to Italy and forcing his hand, of giving him the hotel, had been to ensure they were divorced before it was too late. Before her stomach became rounded, before she had given birth to their child, before he had any concept there even was a child. But she wasn’t sure she could summon the energy to care in that moment.

  None of that mattered.

  She felt only relief.

  Tears stung her eyes. ‘Thank God. Oh, Matteo, I’m so relieved.’

  ‘They’re going to monitor you,’ he said, taking a step back from the bed and crossing his arms. ‘For a few more hours.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Skye reached for the IV cable that was attached to her wrist and pulled it out. Matteo winced as the inch-long needle fell from her arm. ‘Fainting is one of the symptoms I’m learning to live with.’

  She stood, but was so unsteady that Matteo couldn’t help but reach for her. His touch was clinical, but he didn’t want to see his wife—no, the mother of his child—splayed across the bed, unconscious again.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she reiterated snappishly, and her teeth were bared, her body language the definition of defensive. But it was the behaviour of a badly wounded lioness defending her cub.

  She was terrified.

  Of him? Of his anger? Of what she thought he’d do? So she should be! To attempt to conceal the Vin Santo heir from him... Just who did she think he was? ‘So you obviously knew you were pregnant.’ The words held a latent threat.

  She winced and pulled back, moving away from him by skirting the bed.

  ‘When the hell were you planning on telling me?’

  ‘Would you stop yelling?’ she murmured.

  Matteo ran his hand through his hair, pulling at it with barely suppressed frustration. He hadn’t intended to yell; only a rage he hadn’t felt for many years, since the last time he’d come up against a Johnson in a confrontation, had completely usurped all his other impulses. He spoke more softly, but there was an inherent danger to the silky edges of his words. ‘You weren’t going to tell me, were you?’

  Skye looked at him for a moment and then turned her attention back to the bed. ‘I didn’t...feel it was any of your business,’ she said, and somehow managed to look confidently defiant even as she extolled the absurd explanation.

  ‘My baby is none of my business?’ he responded with scathing disbelief. ‘How exactly do you figure?’

  ‘You don’t want a child. Not with me. I was doing you a favour.’ She shook her head. ‘I was doing us all a favour. I don’t want to raise a baby with you any more than you do with me. And the baby deserves to be born into a world that’s not...full of bitterness and acrimony.’

  ‘The baby deserves a chance to know both his parents,’ Matteo responded sharply. ‘You were going to deny both it and me that opportunity. Weren’t you?’

  She glared at him. ‘You went into this marriage wanting one thing, and one thing only. And now you have it. Children were no part of this.’

  ‘That is beside the point. You are, in fact, pregnant with my child. This is not in the realms of the hypothetical. I had a right to know.’

  Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him, searching for something to say—anything—that might explain her point of view.

  The hurt she’d felt at realising that he’d used her. The fact that he’d conned her into falling in love with him, had used her inexperience and desire against her, knowing that he would never be able to give her the only thing she really wanted.

  Love.

  Matteo wasn’t built to love. She knew that now. The newspapers that declared him heartless and ruthless were right.

  What a fool she’d been to believe that their similar upbringings had destined them to be together. As though both having suffered the misfortune of being orphaned meant they would live happily ever after.

  How could she explain to him that this option had been the best for everyone?

  No words came to mind. Nothing. She had thought about it long and hard, though. She’d agonised over what to do. And this had made complete sense.

  It still made sense.

  ‘I don’t want to raise a child with you,’ she said with a determination that was somewhat belied by her quivering lower lip.

  ‘That is not your decision.’

  Skye pulled a face. ‘We’re divorced, remember? Or as good as.’

  Matteo’s mouth formed a grim line. ‘There will be no divorce.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out the papers, tearing them in half with satisfaction, along with the contract for the hotel. The whole deal was off. This baby changed everything.

  Skye’s eyes followed the soft ripping of the soggy paper then flew to his face. ‘You will not be flying out of Italy, taking my child with you.’

  ‘You can’t stop me,’ she snapped, wrapping her arms around her slender body, holding herself tight.

  ‘Like hell I can’t.’ He spoke coldly. ‘If necessary I will take this matter to the family courts today.’

  Skye’s mouth dropped open. ‘You...can’t stop me from leaving. No court would make a mother remain in a country that she’s not even a born citizen of.’

  He lifted a hand, silencing her with the simple gesture. ‘Perhaps not. But you had better believe I will have every reporter available covering the story. Our child will know, from as soon as he can read, that I fought like a dog for him. That I wanted him—and you wanted simply to take him from me.�
� He leaned closer, his face only inches from Skye’s. ‘I will fight for him with my dying breath. You will long for the days when we were married, rather than being in constant custody disputes in court.’

  She shivered, his threat making her stomach roll. ‘You wouldn’t do it. You’re too private.’

  ‘There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my child.’

  ‘Then let-let me raise him,’ Skye stammered. ‘Let me raise our baby, because that’s best for everyone. And you can be...involved,’ she conceded, because she could clearly see she had no other option.

  ‘How involved?’ Matteo demanded.

  ‘You can visit. Several times a year. I suppose I can bring him to Italy when he’s older. We’ll work out a schedule.’ She said the word as though it was the miracle cure they desperately needed. ‘Christmas, birthdays, just like every other divorced couple.’

  ‘Your parents weren’t together,’ Matteo said with cold disbelief. ‘You told me that you hated feeling pulled from one to the other. Yet you’d suggest it for our child?’

  Skye froze. He was right, of course. Though Skye hadn’t spoken much about her upbringing, she’d obviously given enough indication for him to glean the truth of her loneliness.

  ‘We’ll do it better than they did,’ she said softly.

  ‘We won’t do it that way at all.’

  Disbelief scored her heart. ‘You can’t make me stay married to you. That’s insane.’

  ‘Insane is what you planned to do. Insane is planning to hide your pregnancy and baby from me. Hell, Skye, I cannot believe you thought, for one moment, that I wouldn’t find out.’

  ‘How would you have?’ she snapped. ‘This was just bad luck. If I hadn’t passed out...’

  His eyes glittered with anger. ‘Yes?’

  Skye’s cheeks were pale. ‘You would never have known. Ever.’

  ‘Because you were going to disappear into thin air and hide from me?’ He moved closer, his expression menacing. ‘And what if you met another man? Would you have married him? Raised my child with him? Would you have let my child, the Vin Santo heir, grow up with no idea of who he is? From where he comes?’

  Skye was as white as a sheet and, in the part of Matteo’s brain that was working, he recognised that he should ease up. That he should give her a moment to breathe and reach her own conclusions. Only, Matteo had rebuilt the family empire by sheer determination alone and easing up on any of his adversaries was not something he believed in doing.

  And Skye was his adversary—his enemy—not just by blood, but now also by deed. How could she not be, given the deception she’d been willing to practice?

  ‘Answer me, damn it!’ he demanded, and when she didn’t respond he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her body to his. Her lips parted on a wave of shock and he took advantage of the surprise, driven by a soul-deep instinct. He ground his mouth to hers, lashing her with his tongue, stirring her into the kind of frenzy that had typified their short, super-heated marriage.

  It wasn’t just about possessing her. He wanted to possess all of her, to mark his claim on her as his wife, and as the mother of his baby. He wanted to claim their child. ‘This is my baby.’

  Skye was frozen with shock but it didn’t last long. The second Matteo’s lips touched hers she was flashing back into the past through the days of their marriage, the nights of their passion, the need that had always defined them. She was losing a battle to the only truth she could rely on—sensual need.

  ‘Would you have raised him with another man?’ He asked the question straight into her mouth so that she heard the words in the depths of her soul and felt his pain as though he’d touched her there. But he didn’t break their kiss, making it difficult for Skye to answer.

  ‘This is my child.’ The statement was filled with judgement. ‘And you are my wife.’

  Skye made another sound, a mix between a groan and a sob, a sound of desperate emotion and pain, of acknowledgement and regret.

  ‘I won’t let you go. Not now.’

  His hands moved inwards, finding her still-flat stomach. He ran his fingers over her and he ended their kiss, moving away, looking at her with eyes that were cold despite the raging intimacy they’d just shared. Despite the heat in Skye’s blood, her cheeks, the awareness that fired in every part of her body.

  ‘Come home with me.’

  It was not a question, yet Skye still wanted to fight. ‘It won’t work.’

  Matteo’s eyes glittered. ‘Of course it will.’

  ‘Because our last attempt at marriage was such a success?’ Skye scoffed, turning away from him so that she could take a moment to get her blood pressure under control, so that he wouldn’t see the way she was trembling.

  ‘I will not let you take my child from me. I will raise it on my own, or you can choose to be a part of his life.’

  ‘How c-can you even say that?’ she stammered, spinning around to face him head on. ‘No court would ever award you full custody!’

  Matteo’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you know who I am?’

  A shiver ran down her spine; adrenalin pumped in her body.

  ‘Do you know what I will do to get what I want?’

  Skye’s heart stammered in her chest. He’d married her for a stupid piece of real estate—an ancient hotel long since shut down; a building in the middle of Rome in which she had no interest. Matteo’s determination to get what he wanted was indeed a force to be reckoned with.

  To underscore his intent, he added, ‘I will not rest until my child is in my home, being raised by me. Here. In Venice, where he belongs. For more than a thousand years, Skye, Vin Santos have lived on this island.’ He pointed downwards, as if to indicate the ancient marshes on which the city was built. ‘We are as much a part of Venice as Venice is of us. The child you carry in your womb is of me, of Venice, and this is where he should be. I will not let you take him.’

  Skye shook her head, but fear was filling her all the way to the top of her heart.

  Was he right? Could he, in fact, take their baby?

  She needed to speak to a lawyer, and fast.

  ‘If you fight me, I will spare no expense and I will stop at nothing.’ His teeth were bared, his expression vibrating with passionate resolve. ‘I will make your life hell, and you will wish, one day, that you’d never met me. And that you’d never had my child.’

  Skye was shaking. She was furious! She closed the distance between them on autopilot, lifting a hand and cracking it across his cheek.

  ‘How dare you?’ she demanded heatedly, watching as red spread across his cheek from where flesh had connected—hard—with flesh.

  ‘I told you,’ he said with a look of cold indifference. ‘I will stop at nothing to get what I want.’

  ‘And you want our child,’ she said, turning her face away, looking towards the door of the hospital.

  ‘Si.’ Silence cracked between them, angry and vicious. Matteo broke it, forcing himself to be completely honest. To lay out for his wife the truth of their situation. ‘But I also want you.’

  Skye’s stomach flopped instinctively—reflexively—against her judgement and certainly without her consent. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you are my wife,’ he said with a shrug, as though it made complete sense. ‘And I like that you are my wife. I want you back in my bed, like you should have been all along. There is a silver lining to this mess, no?’

  ‘God, Matteo! How can you think about sex right now? How can you think I’d ever climb back into your bed after this? You’re blackmailing me in the most hateful way! And I hate you! I hate you!’

  ‘Yes,’ he said with a decisive nod, his eyes narrowing. ‘But are you not the one who said that hate and love are easily interchanged?’

  ‘I will never be dumb enough to love you again. You disgust me.’

  His laugh was a sharp dismissal. ‘You desire me. Hate does not disqualify lust. Si?’

  Shame flooded Skye. How could it be true? How could she feel such a strong
physical attraction to Matteo, even after all that she knew of him? This man was a total bastard—he was nothing like the man she’d thought she’d married. He’d used her then and he was using her now.

  She had very little pride left. And suddenly she had very little will to fight. She lifted her eyes to his, but there was a lingering shred of defiance in them from deep within her. ‘Hell will freeze over before I sleep with you again.’

  His laugh was mocking. ‘You’ll be begging me to take you in no time.’ He dropped his mouth to hers. ‘And I’m going to enjoy it, Mrs Vin Santo.’

  There was anger in the depths of her toffee-coloured eyes. ‘I swear to you, Matteo, I will never beg for you again.’

  His laugh was dismissive. ‘We’ll see.’

  * * *

  Skye toyed with the necklace, pulling it from side to side, sliding the small locket from one slender shoulder to the other as she stared out at the setting sun.

  She wondered, absentmindedly, if her flight had already left. Without her on it, taking with it her dreams of escape. Of freedom. Of a whole new world and life far, far away from Matteo Vin Santo and all his lies.

  It was strange being back in the villa. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different.

  The last time she’d been here, it had been with an air of delight. With pleasure, excitement. adoration and love. With lust, too. She had been a newlywed and life had been so simple. For, what reason could her powerful billionaire husband have for tricking her into marriage? They were both independently wealthy; he was a renowned ladies’ man and there had been no advantage to him in marrying someone like her unless he’d fallen as utterly head over heels in love as she had.

  And that had been so easy to believe!

  He’d played the part perfectly. How could she have been so fooled by him? He had looked at her and everything had made sense. How had he not felt that?

  Her stomach lurched as she remembered their wedding night. The beautiful anticipation of that moment of first possession. For the month they’d dated, he’d insisted on waiting, despite the fact she’d begged him to take her night after night after night.