A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir

That didn’t stop him from arguing about what they’d name their son. He wanted a simple name like John or Michael. She wanted an Italian name from his family. “Like Giuseppe,” she’d suggested hopefully. Vin had shut that idea down fast.

But he was afraid his emotions were starting to be compromised after four solid days of getting to know her mind and heart. Four nights of utterly exploring her body.

He’d spent hours kissing Scarlett, running his hands over her lush curves and overheated skin, as they’d set their bedroom on fire. They’d made love in every possible way as he’d explored every possibility of giving her pregnant body the deepest pleasure.

All in all, they’d been days and nights he would never forget. He was almost regretful to see them end.

But his plan was working. He could see it in Scarlett’s green eyes when she looked at him now.

Against her will, she was starting to love him.

Perhaps Scarlett would have fallen in love with him anyway, without him trying so hard. Most women did. It was not something he was vain about; it was simply a fact. They could not resist his sex appeal, his raw power and the underlying attraction of his billions in the bank. He didn’t have to try with women. It was usually the opposite. He would be cold to them, and they stunningly and stupidly loved him for it.

Scarlett was different.

For one thing, she didn’t lust for money. In fact, she was suspicious of it as a manipulative tool. That just proved her intelligence, which made her even more desirable.

Seducing her in bed had been easy. Winning her heart was a little more tricky.

He’d had to share his feelings.

His regrets.

He still shuddered a little, remembering their conversation as they’d walked beneath the cypress trees last night, in the cool October air.

“Why did you move to New York after your mother died?” She’d looked up at the villa, the windows gleaming with warm light in the darkness. “You were only fifteen. Why didn’t you come live here?”

His body had tensed. He should have known she wouldn’t let that go. He’d wanted to say something sarcastic, or tell her to mind her own business. But looking at her hopeful, vulnerable expression, he’d known he had to do better than that, at least until they were safely married and he had the signed post-nup. And as intuitive as she was, he couldn’t tell her a lie, either. So he’d shaped his mouth into something he hoped looked like a smile and told her part of the truth.

“Even at fifteen, I dreamed of starting my own company. Building my own fortune. My uncle was a hard-driving corporate lawyer. I knew if I moved to New York he’d be able to help me.”

And Iacopo Orsini had. When Vin was eighteen, he’d taken all the money he’d saved from constant work, and the untouched payout from his mother’s life insurance, and asked his uncle to help him draw up the necessary papers to set up his first company. Iacopo had also led by example, showing Vin it was possible to work every waking hour, and avoid inconsequential things, like spending time with family and loved ones. Or even having loved ones.

“Oh,” Scarlett had said, and the light in her eyes had faded as she bit her lip. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“Flying makes me feel alive,” he’d heard himself add. “It gives me a sense of control. I can go anywhere. Do anything. Be whoever I want to be.”

“It’s your idea of freedom.”

“Yes.”

“That’s funny. My idea of freedom is being able to stay in one place, as long as I want, surrounded by family and friends. Freedom,” she said quietly, “would be a real home, filled with love, that no one would ever be able to take from me.”

Their eyes locked in the moonlight, and for one crazy moment he’d wanted to tell her everything. He’d been tempted to offer up not just his body, not just his name, but his past, his pain, his heart. His future.

But it was a risk he couldn’t take.

“Come on,” he’d said abruptly. “Let’s go inside.”

The memory of how he’d felt last night still left Vin feeling uncomfortable. Vulnerable. Exposed. He didn’t like it. It was a situation he didn’t intend to repeat.