‘No. Not only for that!’
And yet she found her gaze skittering away from his. Her whole life her father had impressed upon her the importance of marriage and children, the need for a Romano heir to carry on tradition.
‘Yes, I wanted to get married and have a family, but not only for the sake of Il Boschetto di Sole. I wanted it for me.’
The whole package: to love and be loved, to experience family life as it should be. With two loving parents offering unconditional love, untinged by disappointment.
One of those detestable eyebrows rose. ‘Wanted? Past tense?’
Holly speared a lightly roasted cherry tomato with unnecessary force. ‘Want. That is what I want.’
‘So what happens if your children don’t want to run a lemon grove? If they have other dreams or ambitions? What if they want to become a pilot or a doctor or a surfer?’
‘Then of course they can.’ And if he raised that bloody eyebrow again, so help her, she’d figure out a way to shave it off.
‘But what about tradition and duty then? Surely if it’s right for you to follow the path of duty it is right for them too?’
‘I want to follow that path. I hope my children will want to as well, but if they don’t I won’t force them to.’ Could she sound any lamer? Time to change tack. ‘Anyway, at least I’ll have a shot at fulfilling Roberto’s wishes. Are you saying you have no plans to have children?’
‘Got it in one. I have no intention of getting married if I can avoid it, or entering into any form of long-term relationship, and I won’t risk my child being torn between two parents. It is as simple as that.’
His tone was flat, but for a second Holly had a glimpse of the younger Stefan, who had been torn between two parents. The custody battle, whilst one-sided, had been long and drawn-out, though the outcome had never been in doubt. An outcome that Alphonse had, of course, claimed to be better for Stefan—after all, Eloise had been condemned as an unfit mother, an unfaithful wife who had only married Alphonse for his money.
Holly had believed every word—after all, Eloise had already ruined her parents’ marriage.
But... ‘Some parents manage to negotiate a fair agreement.’
‘That’s not a risk I’m willing to take. I will not bring a child into this world unless I can guarantee a happy childhood. As I can’t, I won’t.’
‘You could opt for single parenthood. Adopt?’
He shook his head. ‘Not for me. There are plenty of couples out there who want to adopt and can offer way more than I can. So, no. If the lawyers can’t get us out of this I’ll get married for a year. I’ll do what it takes to win. Or my offer still stands. I’ll buy you out here and now. You can start afresh—start a whole new Romano tradition if that’s what floats your boat. That way you have a guaranteed win. Or you fight it out and risk ending up with nothing.’
The waiter returned, removed their empty plates and placed the dessert menu in front of them with discreet fluid movements, giving her a moment to let his deep chocolate tones run over her skin. Doubts swirled. Stefan Petrelli wanted Il Boschetto di Sole and she knew one way or another he would go all-out to get it.
She could end up with nothing. And yet... ‘My father loves Il Boschetto di Sole—for him it would be unthinkable to give up the opportunity to own it.’
‘What about you?’
Stefan held her gaze and she resisted the urge to wriggle on her seat.
‘Is it unthinkable for you?’
Don’t look away.
‘Absolutely,’ she stated.
There was no way she could let her father down over this—no way she could hand it over to Stefan. That was unthinkable.
So... ‘No deal, Stefan. I too will fight and I will go all-out to win.’
‘Then here’s to a fair fight.’
The clink of glass against glass felt momentous, and then their mutual challenge seemed to swirl and change, morph into something else—an awareness and a mad, stupid urge to move around the table and kiss him.
Without meaning to she moistened her lips, and his grey eyes darkened with a veritable storm of desire.
Get a grip.