A Deal To Carry The Italian's Heir / Christmas Contract For His Cinderella. Jane Porter
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When it came to protecting an innocent life, Leonardo would always be a protector at heart.
“But don’t think I came to this decision lightly. Or that it’s some biological-clock-induced crisis I’m acting on without thought. And you know me better than to think it’s for a publicity stunt.” Her voice rose on the last and she took a deep breath to calm down. “I’ve always wanted a family. A man I’d respect and love, children, a house with a backyard and a huge kitchen while I do my best to be a good mum and run a bakery.” A lump sat in her throat.
“Sometimes I wonder if I fell so fast and hard for John because he came with a ready-made family. His daughters, so young, needed a mum and I bought into the fantasy without knowing what kind of a man he was. The dream of fitting into that family blinded me to what I should’ve seen from that first day.” She took a deep breath. “My dream has become impossible to achieve. One—” a bitter laugh fell from her mouth “—I can’t afford for all the millions I’ve made.” She’d morphed from a young girl, full of dreams, to a cautious, burned-out shadow of herself.
The anxiety attack had come out of nowhere but had been years in the making. Once she’d gotten over the shock and fear, she’d seen it for what it could be—a much needed wake-up call to fix her life.
It had given her the kick she’d needed to do something about getting the life she wanted.
“You never told me why you called off the wedding,” inserted Leo, pulling her away from the whirlpool of her troubled thoughts.
Everything in her protested at having to share the shame of her naiveté, of her desperation.
But telling him why she’d called off her wedding was important now. For the most important decision she’d ever taken in her life. She had to strip her armor and bare herself. To a man who’d never be vulnerable in front of her, or anyone else, for anything in the world.
“John told me the night before the wedding that Mario had been pulling his strings all along.”
Leonardo’s pithy curse did nothing to salvage the pain of that meeting. The wound it had left in her. “What did the bastard tell you?”
His anger on her behalf sent heat prickling behind her eyes. Made her weak. And she’d promised herself that she would never be weak again. That she would never tangle herself up in fantasy so badly that she couldn’t see the truth in front of her.
“Exactly five weeks to the day before I met John, Mario and I had a huge row.
“The company’s IP hadn’t been public yet. That first chain of bakeries we opened...it had become such a success in such a small span of time that I couldn’t believe it. Mario’s investment had come at the exact time. After the third bakery I’d opened, I was stretched to the max financially. I couldn’t believe that he shared the same vision that I had had. It snowballed into a monster I couldn’t keep grasp of soon after.
“Before I knew it, we were franchising my brand. New lines of goods were launched, only half of which I had designed. I signed with an agent, who in hindsight never shared my vision. I started to appear on network shows and then we released a line of baking tools. More and more things that I hadn’t approved of. There were days when I hardly had any time out of meetings. But business was booming, and Mum was deliriously happy for me and so I let Mario steer the ship.
“I didn’t quite have the guts to face up to him when I couldn’t exactly pinpoint the source of my own frustration.
“Then I got a call from the CEO of a small American bakery goods company. He’d seen me on one of my shows and asked me to come take over his company’s European branch. Offered me carte blanche—the vision, the line of the goods, a new bakery chain, everything would be up to me. It was exactly the break I needed from...” She looked away from him, refusing to share the complex relationship she had with her mum. “Anyway, it was the perfect time for me to start it.
“I gave myself six weeks to start tying up things with So Sweet Inc. before I accepted the offer. One week in, John joined my division. I found out later that Mario had appointed him to work exclusively with me. He seemed to be the perfect man—funny, kind, a wonderful father to his girls, and he believed in love. He wanted to settle down, get married and have more kids. Tailor-made for me because Mario had designed him like that.
“He’d been coaching him, pulling his strings, playing with my dreams and fears all along. John proposed within a month and I was more than happy to say no to the American’s offer, to put everything I wanted on the line for the life we’d build. Mario got what he wanted.
“But the deceit turned too much for John. He came up to my suite the night before our wedding and came clean. Apparently, he’d been in dire need of funds since his wife had passed away and the medical bills had piled up. Mario offered him the position of chief of division if he played the part of my husband.”
Leo cursed again. “Why the hell didn’t you confront Mario? Why continue to work with him?”
“Mario and I had a nasty argument after everyone left. I told him I was walking away from So Sweet Inc. after his manipulations.”
She looked away, the pain of the blow that had come after still echoing within.
Her mum had refused to walk away from Mario. She hadn’t seen what was wrong with what Mario had done with John to keep Neha home. “It’s not easy to break those ties,” she added softly.
“I’m the last man a woman with your...dreams should proposition.”
Neha moved to stand in front of him, letting him see her conviction. “I’m not that naive to think a man and love are needed for happiness. I don’t think I can even trust a man to have my best interests at heart anymore.
“Success is a double-edged weapon, yeah? I’ve enjoyed all the perks it’s given me. But I’m ready for the next stage. I want to share my life with a child. I want to give him or her my love, nurture it, build a relationship like the one I used to have with my papa. I want more than I have now and I’m going after it the best way I know.”
The space around them reverberated with pain and hope and sincerity.
He sat down on the opposite sofa, his right ankle propped on his left knee, his face thoughtful. “Why not an anonymous donor?”
Even having been prepared for that question, the quality of his tone sidetracked her. Distrust? Suspicion?
“Why me? What do you want from me?”
Neha forgot all her resolution to present a rational, cohesive argument. “For goodness’ sake, Leo, you can’t think I’m out to trap you.
“I might not be the heir of some centuries-long aristocratic Italian family, but I’ve got a fortune of my own. You know I’ve invested wisely. I can stop working tomorrow to have the baby and live comfortably for the rest of our lives.
“Granted, I won’t be able to fly to Milan on a private jet or afford a chauffeur-driven car or live in a mansion in the middle of London, but I never needed those things.”
“So you’re not after my wealth. What do you think is the one thing that most women that I have had a relationship with hope for?”
Sheer outrage filled