The Billionaires' Brides Bundle

Her smile faded. How quickly he’d understood. “Yes.”

“And who would love Stafford-Coleridge-Black more than he loved you.”

Aimee tried to look away. Nicolo wouldn’t let her. He caught her face between his palms and held it steady under his gaze. Her eyes glittered, but she forced a smile.

“And he got what he wanted,” she said lightly, “from the blue blood all the way to Stafford-Coleridge-Bl—”

Nicolo silenced her with a deep, passionate kiss.

“I married you,” he said fiercely, “not your grandfather’s financial empire.”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to try to make it sound as if—as if—”

“I married you because you carry my child. And because you are a strong, beautiful, fascinating woman.”

“Please.” Her voice trembled. “You don’t have to lie.”

“No lies, cara. Not now, not ever. Do you really think I’d have married you to get my hands on that damned bank?”

Even as he spoke the words, he knew they were true. He had married Aimee because she was going to bear his child, and because—because—

Because what? The answer was tantalizingly close.

For now, all he could come up with was the way to prove to his wife that he wanted her.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “I will contact your grandfather. I will tell him that I do not want his bank.”

“But you do want it! I won’t let you do that for me.”

“I am doing it for me, cara. Because—because I am—I am happy.” He saw the smile that lit his bride’s face and his heart seemed to expand within his chest. “I am very happy,” he said softly, “and it has nothing to do with your grandfather’s bank.” Nicolo shifted his weight so Aimee could feel what lying against her had done to him. “I’m happy because of this,” he whispered. “My child in your womb. And you, anima mia, forever in my arms.”

“What does that mean? Anima mia?”

He smiled. “It means that you are my soul.”

Tears glittered on Aimee’s lashes. Was it possible to go from despair to joy so quickly?

The answer came a heartbeat later, when Nicolo slid deep inside her. Yes. Oh, yes, it was possible.

“Nico,” Aimee whispered, “Nico…”

Then, for a very long time, there was no sound but the gentle patter of the rain and the softness of the lovers’ sighs.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“BUON GIORNO,cara mia.”

Nicolo’s soft voice was the first thing Aimee heard as she awakened. She was lying close to him; he was on his belly, smiling down at her as her eyes fluttered open.

Her heart turned over. What a perfect start to a new day. To a new life.

“Buon giorno, Nicolo,” she said softly.

She almost laughed at the look on his face. “You speak Italian?”

“Of course,” she said, as if there could be no question about it. “Buon giorno. Buono notte. Grazie. Per favore. Oh, and, of course, espresso, cappuccino, and, um, gelato.” She grinned. “See? All the essentials. Good morning. Good evening. Thank you, please, two kinds of coffee and the best ice cream in the world. How’s that for speaking the language?”

Nicolo grinned back at her. “Ah. A high school trip to Italy.”