Blinking, he sat up on the sofa, staring at the gray dawn over New York City, at the fine mist of September drizzle. Rising to his feet, he rolled his tense shoulders. He quietly went into the bedroom, careful not to wake Tess, who was sleeping half-upright, with their baby cuddled on her chest.
After taking clean clothes from the wardrobe, he went into the en suite bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind him, and took a shower so hot it scalded his skin. He shaved. He brushed his teeth. He wiped the steam off the mirror. He met his own eyes.
Nothing had to change, he repeated to himself. Nothing at all. He could still leave for London today. Let his lawyers handle this. He could continue to live his life as always.
A life of power and money.
Where he risked nothing.
Felt nothing.
Stefano’s expression in the reflection was emotionless and cold. It was a trick he’d perfected long ago, imitating his father.
Once he was dressed in a crisp white shirt, dark trousers and a dark jacket, he went back into his bedroom. Reaching out, he gently shook Tess’s shoulder.
Her eyes flew open, startled. When she saw him, standing over her in the shadows beside the bed, for a moment, she sm
iled in pure joy, as if all her dreams had come true.
Then she blinked, remembered and looked sad.
“What is it?” she said.
“The baby’s mine.”
She gave him a wistful smile. “I know.” She waited, with painful hope in her eyes.
For what? What was Tess hoping? That he could settle down? Marry her? Help her raise the baby? Give them a home? A name?
Ridiculous.
Stefano had no idea how to be a good husband or father. He’d never even seen it done. Money was all he had to offer them. He’d give Tess a fortune and set her free.
But his body was fighting that decision. Even now, desire shuddered through him as he looked at her. She’d just woken up, but even in her rumpled clothes, tired and cuddling their sleeping baby in her arms, she was the most tantalizing woman he’d ever known.
What would it be like to wake up with her every morning? To have her in his bed every night? What would it be like to possess her completely?
Stefano pushed the thought aside savagely. Setting them free was the right thing to do. It would give Tess and their daughter the chance to be cherished and loved. By someone else.
And Stefano—
He’d focus on his upcoming negotiations. As Tess had said earlier, it was unacceptable that Stefano no longer even owned the corporate rights to his own name. He’d focus on that. Only on that.
And that was final.
“Come on, Tess,” he said roughly, turning away. “I’ll take you home.”
CHAPTER THREE
TESS COULDN’T BELIEVE IT.
She glanced at Stefano out of the corner of her eye. They were sitting in the back seat of his expensive Rolls-Royce, with their baby in a car seat between them, as his uniformed driver maneuvered the morning rush-hour traffic already clogging the streets and avenues of New York in every direction.
She’d thought—really thought—that once he had proof he was Esme’s father that he would offer to help her somehow. Hadn’t he said that if he was the father, it would change everything?
Instead, he was taking her and Esme back to Brooklyn, to drop her off at her uncle’s bakery on his way to the airport. Leaving Tess to face her uncle’s wrath alone, while he flew off to London as planned.
Stefano had changed nothing.