to marry a Corretti, in spite of our little mistake. Good insurance for your family since, thanks to your abandonment, the deal between our family and yours has gone to hell.”
“You think I planned this? You aren’t even serious about marrying me, are you?”
“There is no other choice. You announced your pregnancy to the whole world.”
“I had to tell you.”
“And if I had chosen not to be a part of the baby’s life?”
“I was going to make you tell me that to my face.” He regarded her closely. “Strange to think I ever imagined you to be soft, Alessia.”
“I’m a Battaglia. I’ve never had the luxury of being soft.”
“Clearly not.” He looked at her, long and hard. “This makes sense, Alessia.” His tone was all business now. Maddeningly sure and decisive. “It will put to rest rumors of bad blood, unite the families.”
“You didn’t seem to care about that before.”
“That was before the baby. The baby changes everything.”
Because he wanted to make a family? The idea, so silly and hopeful, bloomed inside of her. It was her blessing and curse that she always found the kernel of hope in any situation. It was the thing that got her through. The thing that had helped her survive the loss of her mother, the cold detachment from her father, the time spent caring for her siblings when other girls her age were out dating, having lives, fulfilling dreams.
She’d created her own. Locked them inside of her. Nurtured them.
“I … It does?” she asked, the words a whisper.
“Of course,” he said, dark eyes blazing. “My child will be a Corretti. On that, there can be no compromise.”
CHAPTER THREE
MATTEO’S OWN WORDS echoed in his head.
My child will be a Corretti. On that there can be no compromise.
It was true. No child of his would be raised a Battaglia. Their family feud was not simply a business matter. The Battaglias had set out to destroy his grandfather, and had they succeeded they would have wiped out the line entirely.
It was the hurt on her face that surprised him, and more than that, his response to it.
Damn Alessia Battaglia and those dark, soulful eyes. Eyes that had led him to ruin on more than one occasion.
“Because you won’t allow your child to carry my name?” she asked.
“That’s right.”
“And what of my role in raising my child?”
“You will, of course, be present.”
“And what else? Because more than mere presence is required to raise a child.”
“Nannies are also required, in my experience.”
“In your experience raising children, or being raised?”
“Being raised. I’m supremely responsible in my sexual encounters so I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“Supremely responsible?” she asked, cheeks flushing a gorgeous shade of rose that reminded him of the blooms in his Sicilian palazzo. “Is that what you call having sex with your cousin’s fiancée with no condom?”
Her words, so stark and angry, shocked him. Alessia had always seemed fragile to him. Sweet. But tangling with her today was forcing him to recognize that she was also a woman capable of supreme ruthlessness if the situation required it.
Something he had to reluctantly respect.
“I didn’t know you were engaged to be married, as you withheld the information from me. As to the other issue, that has never happened to me before.”
“So you say.”
“It has not,” he said.
“Well, it’s not like you were overly conscious of it at the time.”
Shame cracked over his insides like a whip. He had thought himself immune to shame at this point. He was wrong. “I knew. After.”
“You remembered and you still didn’t think to contact me?”
“I did not think it possible.” The thought hadn’t occurred to him because he’d been too wrapped up in simply trying to avoid her. Alessia was bad for him, a conclusion he’d come to years ago and reaffirmed the day he’d decided not to go after her.
And now he was bound to her. Bound to a woman who dug down far too deep inside of him. Who disturbed his grasp on his control. He could not afford the interruption. Could not afford to take the chance that he might lose his grip.
“Why, because only other people have the kind of sex that makes babies?”
“Do you always say what comes to your mind?”
“No. I never do. I never speak or act impulsively, I only think about it. It’s just you that seems to bring it out.”
“Aren’t I lucky?” Her admission gripped him, held him. That there was something about him that brought about a change in her … that the thing between them didn’t only shatter his well-ordered existence but hers, too, was not a comfort. Not in the least.
“Clearly, neither of us are in possession of much luck, Alessia.”
“Clearly,” she said.
“There is no way I will let my child be a bastard. I’ve seen what happens to bastards. You can ask my cousin Angelo about that.” A cousin who was becoming quite the problem. It was part of why Matteo had come to New York, why he was making his way back into circulation. In his absence, Angelo had gone and bought himself a hefty amount of shares for Corretti Enterprises and at this very moment, he was sitting in Matteo’s office, the new head of Corretti Hotels. He’d been about to go back and make the other man pay. Wrench the power right back from him.
Now, it seemed there was a more pressing matter.
“So, you’re doing this to save face?”
“For what other reason? Do you want our child to be sneered at? Disgraced? The product of an illicit affair between two of Sicily’s great warring families?”
“No.”
Matteo tried not to read the emotion in her dark eyes, tried not to let them pull him in. Always, from the moment he’d seen her, he’d been fascinated. A young girl with flowers tangled in her dark hair, running around the garden of her father’s home, a smile on her lips. He could remember her dancing in the grass in her bare feet, while her siblings played around her.
And he had been transfixed. Amazed by this girl who, from all he had been told, should have been visibly evil in some way.
