Italian Mavericks: Carrying The Italian's Heir. Tara Pammi

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Italian Mavericks: Carrying The Italian's Heir - Tara Pammi Mills & Boon M&B

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her into his bed and then gallantly leaving her alone feel so inviting?

      ‘I’m sorry about last night,’ she said, her shyness returning as she blushed. ‘Falling asleep like that, I mean. You must think I’m very rude.’

      ‘I think you were tired from travelling in your condition.’ He poured fresh coffee and tried hard not to allow the image of her asleep on his bed, hair splayed out around her, to return to his mind and torment him. She’d looked so vulnerable, so beautiful, and all he’d wanted to do was look after her. But could he do that? He hadn’t been able to look after his own brother, so how could a woman he’d just met be any different?

      ‘Well, I’m refreshed and feeling much more myself today, thank you.’

      ‘Prego.’ He pushed the black thoughts away and picked up the contract which he’d seen her glance at several times, as if it was a dog that might bite her at any moment. ‘This has been drawn up according to the terms we discussed yesterday, and once signed it will bind us together in our deal for a minimum of two years.’

      ‘And the baby?’

      Her question rocked him but he kept his focus, portraying outward control even if inside he was far from controlled.

      ‘I will be a part of my child’s life for ever.’

      The firmness and passion in his voice shocked him—as did the realisation that it was what he wanted. His child wouldn’t be born illegitimate, with the odds stacked against him. His child would have everything he could possibly give it to succeed in life.

      ‘But we will both be free to end the marriage in two years and during that time we can live separately—once the main objectives of the deal are achieved, that is.’

      ‘The main objective for you being to secure a business deal?’

      The accusation in her voice hit its mark, making his requirement seem insignificant in the face of hers. The deal had been his initial motivation, but as the implications of their few steamy hours together that night had sunk in he’d known he would do anything for his child. There was no way he would walk out and never look back. He was not his father.

      ‘Di preciso.’ Briefly English failed him as the truth of his thoughts penetrated deep into him. ‘Exactly. But if I do not secure my business deals then I will not have the means to give my child much.’

      ‘You could give it love.’

      Her words smarted in the wound she was opening. One he’d long since thought healed.

      Love was the one thing he couldn’t give. Anyone he’d given that to had gone from his life. His father, his brother... With the exception of his feelings for his mother, love was one emotion he could not do, because by doing so he’d risk everything. Love hadn’t stopped his father walking away when he and Alessio were young. It hadn’t stopped his brother from falling in with those gangs, and it hadn’t helped at all when for years he’d not even known where Alessio was. It certainly hadn’t helped when he’d discovered the truth of his brother’s death.

      Love was a futile and wasted emotion.

      ‘My child, my heir, will have everything it needs—of that you can be assured.’

      She looked at him, those green eyes smouldering with doubt—a doubt which beat wildly within him right now. Did she have any idea what she was asking of him with those words?

      ‘That is all I want for my child, Dante. The love and security of knowing its father, of being able to have a good relationship with him as I did with mine.’

      * * *

      Piper tried to push thoughts of her father aside. Now, in the face of Dante’s scepticism, was not the time to remember just how much she missed her father. The grief of losing him was still raw after all these months. It was why she’d sought solace in Dante’s arms that night, why she’d given herself to him—that and the powerful attraction which had sparked between them.

      ‘This is the contract.’

      He pushed the papers across the table to her, his hand lingering on it as if he wasn’t sure he actually wanted her to have it. She saw the gold of his signet ring gleam in the lights above.

      She sighed, not sure she should be signing anything, but she couldn’t stay like this, in limbo from reality, not knowing what was going to happen. At least this way her child stood some chance of having a father who was around. He passed her a pen and she looked again at his ring. It was engraved with the letter A. Was that the initial of a past lover?

      ‘One signature on each copy,’ he said firmly, pulling her back from her thoughts.

      ‘There,’ she said as her name sprawled across the line. ‘It’s official.’

      ‘Bene. Now we will need to purchase a ring.’

      His words brought her crashing back to the present.

      ‘Is that necessary when it is only an engagement for show and a marriage on paper?’

      ‘Sì, cara, it is. As are a few other changes.’

      ‘Changes?’ Trepidation filled her. What else did he have planned?

      He walked towards her, his eyes seeming to devour her, sending sparks of awareness all over her body, just as they’d done that night in London.

      ‘You have changed, cara, since we met in London.’

      She frowned, taking in his words. Was she not good enough for him? The spiteful rejection from her days at school rushed back at her. Then, her lack of vision in one eye had been all too obvious, and some of her classmates had thought it amusing to taunt her. Now, after the operations her father had insisted she have, her disability was not so obvious. Although the ability to see with her left eye would never be possible, it was far less noticeable.

      ‘This is who I am, Dante, not the woman you met in London.’

      ‘I disagree. But right now I need to buy you a ring—one that will announce to the world that you are my intended bride.’

      ‘And make you look like a man with true family values?’ She couldn’t keep the barb out of her voice.

      ‘Di preciso. Now, if you are ready, we shall go and make our purchase.’

      * * *

      Half an hour later Dante’s car arrived in the centre of Rome, in an area which thronged with locals and tourists alike. The winter sun was warm and for a moment she relished it after having spent the last few months experiencing her first British winter.

      ‘This way,’ he said as he leant close to her ear, and his words sent a whisper of tingles down her spine as he spoke.

      At least this time he was standing on her right side and she’d known he was there—although that wasn’t entirely a good thing if the way she’d reacted to his nearness was anything to go by.

      ‘I have arranged a private consultation with one of Rome’s most renowned jewellers.’

      To her surprise he took her hand as

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