The Italian's Love-Child: The Italian's Stolen Bride / The Marchese's Love-Child / The Italian's Marriage Demand

‘I could help you avoid mistakes.’

‘Just let me be a passenger, Luc. It’s your day with Matt.’ Not with me.

He instantly picked up the implication not to assume too much and gave her an ironic little smile as he took the key. ‘Keeping your distance, Skye?’

‘Keeping out of trouble,’ she answered.

She had trouble enough, sitting so closely beside him in the car on their way to Darling Harbour. His physical presence in such a small space dominated her consciousness, even though she kept her gaze fixed on the traffic, trying her utmost to ignore how acutely all her other senses were attuned to him.

Nor could she stop her body from feeling all keyed up—whether to repel any touch from him or welcome it, she didn’t know. Just being near him aroused the fresh sexual memories from last week, but she couldn’t let that happen again, couldn’t risk any kind of intimate contact while she was still trying to sort through the situation between them.

Matt was full of chatter, keeping Luc engaged in conversation, for which Skye was intensely grateful. She listened to their voices. No strain in either of them—happy, cheerful, having fun. Would Luc be a good father in the long run? Discovering a son was still very new to him. He wanted to indulge Matt, but there was more to parenting than indulgence.

Still, Skye couldn’t quarrel with the indulgence when they finally reached the aquarium and walked into a new entrancing world for Matt. The touching pond and the showcases of fish were fantastic. Seeing sharks swimming overhead was positively awesome. She could not have afforded to give Matt this experience and he was loving every minute of it.

The tropical fish, of course, were a very special attraction, and he told Luc the names of those he recognised from having watched Finding Nemo many times since Skye had bought him the video for Christmas. Naturally the clownfish was his favourite.

Eventually they’d exhausted every attraction and Skye suggested a toilet visit before going on to lunch. She automatically took Matt’s hand to lead him into the Ladies’ Room, only to be halted by Luc.

‘He should come with me, Skye.’

‘But he’s a little boy,’ she objected.

‘I’ll look after him.’ Hard challenge in his eyes.

It was his day with Matt.

Rather than make a fight of it, Skye reluctantly let them go together. She was waiting for them when they came out and Matt rushed over to her to whisper proudly, ‘I peed in the urinal with Daddy.’

Skye grimaced over this highly basic piece of male bonding and rolled her eyes at Luc who was totally unabashed about it. ‘About time I had a first in my son’s upbringing,’ he said pointedly, reminding her of all the firsts he’d missed—first word, first step, first day at school…

Matt skipped on ahead of them as they walked towards the aquarium exit and Luc seized the chance for some private talk between them, stunning her with his opening line. ‘Any chance you might have conceived another child last week?’

‘No,’ she answered quickly, a wave of heat whooshing up her neck at the abrupt reference to their intimacy.

‘I didn’t use protection, Skye, and your own long drought from any sex suggests you didn’t, either.’

‘It was a safe time.’ A fact she’d only figured out—frantically—when the possible consequence of pregnancy had occurred to her after he’d gone.

‘Sure about that?’

‘Yes,’ she bit out grimly, remembering the churning panic while she had checked dates.

‘I was rather hoping it wasn’t,’ he drawled.

‘What?’ She threw an appalled look at him.

‘I’m here to take care of you this time.’ His eyes glittered ruthless determination. ‘And I’d like us to have a child we both shared from the very beginning.’

She felt his strongly embittered sense of having been cheated of years with Matt and kept her mouth shut. This was not something she could argue against. Yet a revulsion against the ruthlessness she saw in him forced her to ask, ‘Were you thinking of getting me pregnant when you carried me off to bed?’

‘No.’ He sliced her a sardonic little smile. ‘I just wanted you, Skye. So much that protection didn’t enter my head. And it didn’t enter yours, either.’ He paused before softly adding, ‘What do you think that says about our need for each other?’

She didn’t answer.

Luc called out to Matt, bringing him back in line with them, taking his hand—a hand that was readily given, unlike hers. Skye wondered if Luc would stoop to seriously playing Matt as a persuasive force in getting her to accept his proposal of marriage. Or was he simply counting on her own vulnerability to a connection with him?

She couldn’t block out the powerful attraction he exerted on her, yet marriage was something else entirely. No way was she going to rush into a decision. Six years was a huge gap to bridge and she was far too conscious of the murky waters that flowed all around them, making a foundation on which to build seem very rocky.

They proceeded to a harbourside restaurant where Luc had booked a table out on the open terrace so they could watch the colourful passing parade of people and the boats in the water—lots of boats on show this weekend, reminding Skye of how she had first met Luc and his brother.

It was at the end of her second year of university and she’d got a casual summer job in the supply shop at the big Cronulla marina. The Peretti family had owned a huge waterfront home nearby in those days. Probably still did. She and her mother had moved from the adjoining suburb of Caringbah after her stepfather had deserted them.

But that summer, the Peretti brothers had sailed every weekend. She had met Roberto first, serving him in the shop. He’d flirted with her and she’d thought him a rather gorgeous playboy until Luc had appeared, completely knocking out the attraction of his younger brother. It wasn’t so much he was better looking, more that he somehow made Roberto seem lightweight in comparison, instantly relegated to the sidelines.

He still had that power.

Skye glanced around the men seated at other tables, the men walking by…all of them paled in comparison to Luc. He commanded attention, compelled attention, and she knew she was in a hopeless position, trying to hold him at a distance when he was intent on reclaiming her.

After lunch they strolled down to the playground area where Luc directed that he and Skye sit on a grassy bank, watching how brave Matt was at using the slippery dip by himself. Encouraged to show off, Matt was only too eager to demonstrate to his father how capable he was of using all the playground equipment, which neatly took him out of earshot.

Skye resigned herself to another private conversation with Luc, knowing there was no ultimate way of avoiding it. One way or another, he’d make the opportunity. Besides, her nerves were so on edge waiting for it, she might as well get it over with. They sat side by side, their knees hitched up, arms resting on them, no doubt looking very relaxed together to Matt, and at least Luc made no move to get closer.

‘Let’s discuss marriage,’ he started without any preamble.

Skye plucked a blade of grass and began slowly shredding it as she struggled to put her thoughts into some kind of sensible framework.

‘You’ve had time to think about it,’ Luc pressed.

‘I don’t know the man you are now,’ Skye said truthfully, keeping her focus on the strips of grass.

‘You want more time.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you are considering it.’

The satisfaction in his voice stirred rebellion against the pressure he was laying on her. ‘There’s a hell of a lot to consider, Luc.’

He came straight back with, ‘Tell me what’s on your mind.’

More pressure.

She slanted him a curious look. ‘Have you run the idea of marrying me past your parents, Luc?’

‘I didn’t discuss it with them, no. I told them flatly that they either accept you as my wife or lose me. And having just lost one son, I don’t think they’ll be inclined to buck my ultimatum.’

It shocked her speechless. She stared at him, stunned by the starkly drawn stand he had made, the sheer ruthlessness of his planning, and the assumption that they would marry, all laid out as though it was already decided.