The Italian's Christmas Housekeeper

Join the club. ‘And did you come to any conclusions?’

Salvio’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him suspiciously. She wasn’t behaving as he had expected her to behave. Although what did he know? He’d never had to face something like this before and never with so

meone like her. After her departure last night, he’d thought she might try to creep back into his bed—maybe even whisper how sorry she was for flouncing out like that—before turning her lips to his for another hungry kiss. He was used to the inconsistency of women—and in truth he would have welcomed a reconnection with those amazing curves. Another bout of amazing sex might have given him a brief and welcome respite from his concerns about the future.

She hadn’t done that, of course, and so he had braced himself for sulks or tears or reproachful looks when he bumped into her this morning. But no. Not that either. Sitting there in a soft sweater which matched her grey eyes, with her hair loose and shining around her shoulders, she looked the picture of health—despite the shadows beneath her eyes, which suggested her night had been as troubled as his.

And the crazy thing was that this morning he hadn’t woken up feeling all the things he was expecting to feel. There had been residual shock, yes, but the thought of a baby hadn’t filled him with horror. He might even have acknowledged the faint flicker of warmth in his heart as a tenuous glimmer of pleasure, if he hadn’t been such a confirmed cynic.

‘Every problem has a solution if you come at it from enough angles,’ he said carefully. ‘And I have a proposition to put to you.’

She creased her brow. ‘You do?’

There was a pause. ‘I don’t want you finding a job as a housekeeper, or looking after someone else’s children.’

‘Why not?’

Salvio tensed, sensing the beginning of a negotiation. Was she testing out how much money he was prepared to give her? ‘Isn’t it obvious? Because you’re pregnant with my baby.’ His voice deepened. ‘And although this is a child I never intended to have, I’m prepared to accept the consequences of my actions.’

‘How...how cold-blooded you make it sound,’ she breathed.

‘Do you want me to candy-coat it for you, Molly?’ he demanded. ‘To tell you that this was what I always secretly dreamed would happen to me? Or would you prefer the truth?’

‘I’m a realist, Salvio,’ she answered. ‘I’ve only ever wanted the truth.’

‘Then here it is, in all its unvarnished glory. Tomorrow, I’m flying home to Naples for the holidays.’

‘I know. Your assistant told me when she hired me.’

‘I return every year,’ he continued slowly. ‘To two loving parents who wonder where they went so wrong with their only child.’

She blinked at him in confusion. ‘I don’t...understand.’

‘Who wonder why their successful, handsome son who has achieved so much,’ he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘has failed to bring home a woman who will one day provide them with the grandchildren they yearn for.’ He gave a sudden bitter laugh. ‘When, hey, what do you know? Suddenly I have found such a woman and already she is with child! What a gift it will be for them to meet you, Molly.’

She stared at him, confusion darkening her grey eyes. ‘Meet them? You’re not suggesting—’

‘Like I said last night—it’s time to lose all that wide-eyed innocence. I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting,’ he drawled. ‘We buy you a big diamond ring and I take you home to Naples as my fiancée.’

‘You mean...’ She blinked. ‘You mean you want to marry me?’

‘Let’s put it another way. I don’t particularly want to marry anyone, the difference is that I’m prepared to marry you,’ he amended.

‘Because of the baby?’

‘Because of the baby,’ he agreed. ‘But not just that. Most women are demanding and manipulative but, interestingly enough, you are none of those things. Not only are you extremely beddable—I find you exceptionally...agreeable.’ His lips curved into a reflective smile. ‘And at least you know your place.’

Molly stared at him, wanting to tell him to stop making her sound like the UK representative for the international society of doormats. Until she realised that once again Salvio was speaking the truth. She did know her place. She always had done. When you worked as a servant in other people’s houses, that was what tended to happen.

‘So what’s in it for me?’ she asked, thinking she ought to say something.

He looked at her in surprise. ‘It isn’t very difficult to work out. You get financial security and I get a ready-made family. I can pay off your brother’s debt in one swoop, on the understanding that this is the only time I bankroll him. And if I were you, I would wipe the horror from your face, Molly. It really isn’t a good look for a woman who’s on the brink of getting engaged.’ His voice dipped into one of silky admonishment. ‘And it isn’t as if you have a lot of choices, do you?’

Molly felt the sudden shiver of vulnerability rippling down her spine. He didn’t have to put it quite so brutally, did he? She swallowed. Or maybe he did. It was yet another cruel observation but it was true. She didn’t have a lot of choices. She knew there was nothing romantic about having to struggle. She’d done all that making-the-best-of-a-bad-situation stuff—seeing how many meals you could get out of a bag of black-eyed beans and buying her clothes in thrift stores. She knew how hard poverty could be.

And this was her baby.

Her defenceless little baby.