Affairs Of The Heart: The Italian Boss's Secret Child

‘Of course I can.’ If I have to. ‘It’s what I want.’ If that’s what it takes.

‘What about what I want?’

‘It’s obvious you don’t want to be involved. You’ve made that perfectly clear by even assuming I could do anything other than keep this child. You didn’t ask for this to happen. You didn’t ask for a child.’

‘And you did?’

Her eyes dropped to the floor. He’d never understand if she told him. He’d never understand how much this baby meant, how much it would mean to her mother and how she’d dreamed so fervently of having a child. But those reasons had nothing to do with him. He didn’t need to know.

‘Of course it was a shock,’ she said. ‘But now that I’ve accepted it I’m going to do everything I can to make this child’s life worthwhile. This baby’s never going to feel like it’s not wanted or that its life is the result of a mistake. I’m going to make it a home.’

‘Very noble sentiments. And just how do you plan on doing all this by yourself?’

‘I’ll manage.’

‘You’ll manage,’ he echoed hollowly, his voice dry and flat. ‘A single mother, either unable to work or having to put the child into care all day and scraping by on a pittance if you can work. Is that how you intend to manage?’

She knew it wasn’t going to be easy—she’d never thought that. But hearing him put it like that— She swallowed, attempting to bury her doubts and regain the confidence she’d felt when she’d worked out that this was what she should do. ‘Lots of women do. They get by.’

‘Not with my child they don’t!’

The vehemence of his words took her by surprise. Was this really the man with the reputation of a confirmed bachelor and dedicated non-family man?

‘Then what are you suggesting? Some sort of financial support for the child?’

‘Not just that,’ he said as he looped his tie deftly into the perfect knot. ‘Something much more appropriate for all of us. An arrangement that will mean you don’t have to worry about balancing work with child-care. Something that will ensure your and the child’s security for life.’

Her breath caught as a tingle of sensation bubbled inside. No, it wasn’t possible. Surely he wasn’t about to suggest marriage? But what else could offer the security the child needed, the solid foundation for a future life?

Maybe she’d underestimated him. Marriage didn’t sound like something the commitment-averse Damien would suggest to anyone, least of all to her. Did the existence of a baby make so much difference, that now she was worthy of consideration as his bride, now she was considered marriage material?

Marriage.

Marriage to Damien.

How would it feel to be Damien’s wife? To wake up alongside him every day, to feel his strong body holding her safe at night, to make a family with him.

To have his child and to have him too—dreams were made of lesser stuff.

So he didn’t love her. She knew that. But they could still make it work. She loved him and she’d make it work if it meant pretending to be Cleopatra every night to do it. She’d do whatever it took.

It would be worth it.

She waited, almost too scared to breathe, unable to speak and ask what he could possibly mean. After what seemed an age he returned from the bathroom, his hair restored to its usual executive state, the tracks of her fingernails obliterated.

‘I have a property, out of the city about one hundred kilometres or so. I can’t get out there as much as I’d like but the house is in good condition and there’s a full-time housekeeper and manager.

‘It’ll be a perfect place for you to bring the child up,’ he continued. ‘I’ll pay all the household expenses and give you an allowance as well so you don’t have to worry about working.’

A freezing dump of despair oozed over her and it was seconds before she could convince her jaw to thaw enough to let her speak.

‘You’d set me up in a house of yours?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s the best option for both of us. I’ll visit on weekends when I can get away.’

‘And what of my mother? Who would look after her? No, Damien. There’s no way.’

‘She can come too. There’s plenty of room. You can all be together.’

‘Thanks so much for your kind offer, but I’m sorry, I’m not actually in the market for a new home. Maybe some other time…’

She pushed past him, trying to reach the bathroom and find a place where she could breathe again, a place where she could think, but he grabbed her arm, wheeling her around.

‘Listen to me. I’m offering this child a home, security. I’ll arrange the best doctors for your mother, the best paediatricians for the baby. The child will have everything it needs.’ His fingers tightened on her arm. ‘What are you waiting for—a better offer?’

‘Lovely to know you’re so concerned about this child. And what will my role be in this arrangement?’

‘You’ll bring up the child. I take it that’s what you expect to do? And you won’t have to do housework or the cooking and cleaning or worry about a day job. I’ll even get private nursing for your mother, and on top of everything I’ll pay you for the privilege. So maybe you could try to be a bit more grateful.’

‘Grateful! And let me guess—will I also be expected to share your bed whenever you feel the urge? Is that how you expect me to show how grateful I am? Am I expected to extend my gratitude to you on my back?’

She wrenched her arm but his grip merely tightened, locked on, his fingers like steel manacles. She suppressed a gasp as his fingers bit into her flesh. He might be stronger than she was, but still she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was hurting her.

He drew her closer, so close that she could see the white-hot fury in his eyes, feel his heated breath on her cheek. One side of his lips kicked up in a smile that went no further. ‘You didn’t seem to have a problem with being flat on your back ten minutes ago. Or have you forgotten already how good I made you feel, how you bucked under me until I blew your world apart?’

Her pulse hammered, her temple throbbed, as her heart cranked up the pressure through her veins as his dark eyes locked on hers. She could never forget how he made her feel, not in this life.

‘Have you forgotten already how you begged me to take you?’ His free hand cupped her breast. Her shocked intake of breath was fast and tremulous as he massaged the tender flesh, her nipple firming and reaching out into his palm.

He closed the gap between them, pushing himself against her. She felt his arousal with shock and awe, excitement building in her own deep places.

‘Are you seriously telling me you wouldn’t like to make love with me again?’

His hand left her breast and dipped down her back, pressing her into his hardness. ‘Are you seriously trying to tell me you don’t want me again?’

His words were seductive, hypnotising her, a mantra for her soul. His touch was persuasive, compulsive, like a mantra for her body.

He dropped a hand into her still open zipper, slipping his hand down until his warm fingers cupped the flesh of one cheek, squeezing, massaging, his fingers exploring more…

‘There’s no denying it, you realise that. You want me just as much as I want you.’

‘Damien,’ she half-pleaded, sensation blotting out rational thought once more, nerve-endings screaming for release. It was true. She could no more deny wanting him than she could deny the sun a place in the sky. But that didn’t mean he could buy her like just one more part of his business.

‘See,’ he said, a tone of victory injected into his voice. ‘There’s no way you can deny me. Not now.’

‘Damien,’ she said, stronger this time, his arrogance fuelling her determination to fight back. ‘I won’t be your mistress.’

‘You don’t mean that,’ he said. ‘Let me show you what you really want.’ His mouth dipped lower as if intending to claim hers but it never made its mark. Summoning strength she didn’t know she possessed, she pushed and twisted at the same time, swivelling out of his arms and swaying across the room until dozens of cubic metres of super-charged air swirled between them.