his dark eyes twinkling with a dangerous light, his hands on his hips, and he began to curse in Italian again.
“I thought that Italian princes were common?” Shay said, mimicking him. “I mean, not like the British royal family...”
“Yes, but with my family there is a bit more scandal. So my brother and I are often in the spotlight. We’re favorites of the paparazzi.”
“And I just gave them their latest scoop.” She ran a hand over her belly. “Is this going to happen all the time?”
Dante scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sì.”
“So that’s what you meant by protecting me?” she asked.
He nodded curtly. “Where are you staying?”
“At the United World Wide Health Association house. It’s not far from here.”
He shook his head. “Not tonight, you’re not. You’re coming to my place.”
“I am not!” she said, getting annoyed with him.
“You’re going to cause a bigger scandal if you don’t agree to my marriage suggestion, especially if the child is mine,” Dante snapped. “You could ruin my reputation at this hospital.”
Shay bit her lip. She didn’t want to ruin his career or his reputation. “You want a marriage of convenience?”
“Sì, that way I can protect you. I have a restraining order against the paparazzi and it will protect you also, if you marry me.”
“So just on paper we’ll be married.”
“Sì, but to make it look real you will have to move into my home for a year.” He rolled his neck and tugged at the collar of his shirt, as if it were suffocating him. It clearly bothered him just as much as it bothered her.
“Do you have enough room?” Shay asked.
He chuckled. “I have an entire villa to myself on the Lido di Venezia. I can give you your own wing if you desire. Just say yes. Let me protect you and our child.”
Even though she should say no, she didn’t want paparazzi stopping her and accosting her when she moved around Venice. Especially where there was a language barrier. Dante could keep them at bay. She ran her hand over her belly again.
This was his baby too. Even if he didn’t believe it at the moment.
What choice did she have? It was just for a year. Only she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t agree to the marriage.
“You’re coming with me,” Dante said. “We’ll get the paternity test done now, put this doubt to rest.”
“I don’t have a say in this?”
“No, you don’t.”
And she had a feeling this was one of many arguments she was going to have with him over the course of the next twelve weeks. He’d won this round, but she’d win the next.
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