The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command. Helen Bianchin

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to the fact she’d previously noted Dante as Ben’s legal guardian, whereupon relevant details were checked on the call-sheet, together with Dante’s mobile-phone number.

      ‘Please alter the residential address,’ Dante informed, and gave it. ‘Effective from today,’ he added smoothly.

       Excuse me?

      ‘Isn’t this a little precipitate?’ she said quietly as they moved aside, and incurred his dark gaze.

      ‘There’s no reason to delay settling Ben into his new home.’

      Taylor sent him a spearing look. ‘Tomorrow,’ she stated firmly. ‘It will allow him to become accustomed to the idea.’

      Minutes later Ben was summoned by the carer, whereupon he moved quickly to the entrance, leant into her hug, then a smile broadened his mouth as he caught sight of Dante.

      Without a word he raised his arms as Dante lifted him high against his chest and held him close.

      ‘Hello, Ben.’

      ‘Zio. You came. Taylor said you would.’ Ben looked at him solemnly. ‘Are you going to stay?’

      ‘Yes. Most of the time,’ Dante assured as he crossed the parking area.

      ‘Cool.’

      One word, conveying much, and Taylor felt her heart melt a little…as it had so often these past few weeks, when all she wanted to do was hug him close and will back his laughter and joy of life.

      Time. It will just take time, she assured silently as they reached the Mercedes, and she frowned with sudden anxiety. ‘Ben’s booster seat is in my car.’

      Dante spared her a glance. ‘I had Gianni organise one this morning.’ He opened the rear door, saw Ben safely buckled in as she slid in beside her nephew, while Dante took the adjacent seat.

      She knew she should credit Dante with forethought, but he was moving too fast, taking control…doubtless a power trait he’d skilfully honed as head of the d’Alessandri corporation.

      Laudable, but Ben wasn’t a corporate commodity, and she intended to relay her viewpoint at the soonest possible moment.

      A strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck caused her to spare a glance in Dante’s direction, and the breath stopped in her throat as she met his musing gaze.

      He couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking, surely? Oh, for heaven’s sake…it hardly mattered if he did.

      Taylor offered Gianni directions to her apartment, and she felt a sense of relief when the car slid to a halt at the kerb outside what had once been a stately double-storeyed villa which developers had converted into four apartments.

      ‘Thanks for lunch,’ she acknowledged quietly as Dante withdrew Ben and set him onto his feet on the pavement.

      Ben’s hand curled into his uncle’s much larger one as he looked up at her. ‘Can Zio come up and see my bike?’

      How could she refuse? ‘Of course. If he’d like to.’ She almost qualified it with ‘if he isn’t too busy’, and stilled the words before they could find voice.

      Did Dante sense her reluctance? Perhaps, although she told herself his thought process was of little interest.

      Her apartment was one of two situated on the upper floor, reached by a wide central staircase, and she unlocked the door, disarmed the alarm system, then indicated the hallway. ‘Would you like coffee?’

      ‘Thanks, that would be nice.’ He smiled down at Ben’s anxious features. ‘Let’s go see your bike, shall we?’

      The apartment was relatively spacious and pleasantly furnished. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, the usual utilities. Feminine, but functional, he noted as Ben led him into a room where floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined two walls. A home office, sans a desk, computer or the usual electronic equipment.

      Instead stuffed toys lined the bed, and there were several toy cars and trucks neatly parked together on the floor. A few childish prints were attached to the wall above the bed, together with an enlarged framed photo taken in happier times featuring Casey, Leon, Ben as a young babe and Taylor.

      Dante’s gaze lingered, settled briefly on Taylor’s features, noting her happy smile, the laughing eyes…as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

      ‘This is my bike.’

      Dante hunkered down and ran a careful hand over the gleaming paint, the seat, and commented on its racy three-wheeler design.

      ‘Daddy bought it for me, before—’ He paused, bit his lip, then reiterated with extreme care, ‘Before.’

      Dante suddenly felt a fierce need to draw Ben close and assure him everything would be fine. Instead, he rubbed a gentle palm over Ben’s shoulder, kept it there for a moment, then offered warmly, ‘Maybe we can take it to a park one day soon and you can show me how well you can ride.’

      Dark brown eyes regarded him solemnly. ‘Can Taylor come too?’

      ‘Of course.’

      A tentative smile widened his mouth. ‘Are you going to stay with us?’

      ‘Would you like that?’

      ‘You can have my bed.’

      Such an earnest offer, and one that pulled at something deep within. This was Leon’s son, his godson. A child who needed every reassurance he was safe, secure and loved.

      ‘That’s very kind,’ Dante said gently. ‘Perhaps we should run it by Taylor?’ It would allow her the opportunity to reveal their imminent move to Watson’s Bay.

      Which it did, and he silently applauded her explanation, added his own together with the benefits of sharing a larger residence.

      They kept it simple, logical…and received Ben’s slow nod of acceptance, pursued by a worried frown. ‘Will I still go to the same kindergarten?’

      In a time of complete change, it was important to retain a constant. ‘Yes.’ Dante’s assurance echoed that of Taylor’s, and Ben’s expression cleared.

      ‘And can Sooty come, too?’

      Dante raised an eyebrow in silent query, and Taylor quickly explained, ‘Sooty is a cat.’

      ‘Of course.’

      Taylor opted for informality, choosing to serve coffee at the dining-room table, where Ben sat enjoying his glass of milk and afternoon snack.

      Dante’s presence had an unsettling effect…one she endeavoured to overcome as she focused on Ben, waiting for the moment Dante would leave.

      Except he seemed in no hurry, and she felt her nerves stretch increasingly taut.

      Almost as if he knew, he made a play of checking his watch. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

      She

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