“Then there’s Ryan’s share of his mother’s wealth,” she added, laying it on as thick as the moss on the stones beside her, determined to make him see she wasn’t without resources.
“It galls Chris no end that I’m keeping my share of Ryan’s trust, which is probably the reason I’m doing it since I don’t need it. And of course the U.S. government sends me widow benefits.” She wrinkled her nose, not feeling as good about taking that money. “If I thought it would go to anything but guns and tanks, I’d refuse it. Instead, I’m rolling it into a program that helps service families who’ve lost members in the line of duty.”
She swung her gaze back to the villa and its charming amenities. “So you see, I don’t need you to arrange another empty house for me. But I’ll stretch my legs while we’re here, before you give me back my phone so I can make other arrangements...”
Lauren’s voice faded as she descended the stairs in a lighthearted trip that stuttered Paolo’s breath.#p#????#e#
“They could be slippery! Slow down. Hold the rail.”
“Yes, Mama,” she called back, continuing at a pace that made him hurry to be close enough to catch her if she stumbled.
“You’re determined to test my patience, aren’t you?” he said as they came out on the lawn below. The way she had pressed her face into his hand like a cat seeking more petting was still unsettling him. Now this sass and snub of the trouble he’d taken to accommodate her presence in his country. It was too much.
And was that pose of sexy absorption deliberate? She took in the short beach of rocky sand overseen by a handful of bare fruit trees. He took in skinny jeans that showcased graceful, filly legs. Short ankle boots added length so his eyes couldn’t help but travel up and down and up. His palms burned to stroke her slender limbs and test the back pockets that looked so tight he doubted he could slide so much as a single fingertip in, but he very much wanted to try.
The breeze off the water was stiff enough to make her turn up the collar on her smart leather jacket.
“What do you want me to say, Paolo? Wait, let me guess. Yes, Paolo. Of course, Paolo. Anything you say, Paolo.” She snorted disparagingly. “Been there, done that, except his name was Ryan. I’ll tell you what I’ll do, though.” She turned to him with a gamine look that encouraged him to believe she could be reasonable. “If I decide to stay in Italy, I’ll let you buy this villa for me. It looks like a lovely place to raise a child.”
“Stay?!” It was the moment between controlling the wave-skimming hydrofoil and feeling the deck lift into the zone where you knew you could lose it. He advanced on her, ready to bend her to his will. “What are you trying to do to me, Lauren?”
She took a wary step back, ankle wobbling as she met soft sand rather than firm, dry grass. “I’m not doing anything to you. I’m trying to do for myself, live my life. People like you and Ryan who never answer to anyone don’t understand—”
“I answer to everyone!” he broke in with frayed temper. “Do you think the investors in a bank want the head of it caught up in a paternity scandal? Again? It’s expensive and distracting and when he’s there because he cheated with his best friend’s wife they question his ethics!”
She blinked in shock, but he carried on, spelling it out for her because she obviously needed to hear it.
“It’s a family business, Lauren. My sisters and cousins do not appreciate when my fast and loose behavior messes with their living. I know because they’ve told me. And do you think my mother, who already attached herself to one unborn grandchild only to have it snatched away, will appreciate another incident just like it?”
The old helpless, hopeless ache spread shoulder to shoulder behind his rib cage, threatening to choke his voice. He ground words past it.
“My ex-wife’s lies broke her heart. I won’t let it happen again. So whatever you’re doing with your life, recognize it impacts mine!”
His passionate fury was as quick and sharp a slap as the wind gusting off the whitecaps. Lauren worked her heels into the sand so she felt a little more steady, but her ears ached with cold and strain, hearing more than Paolo had said.
His mother wasn’t the only one who had become attached to an unborn child.
She hadn’t seen past his bitter fury the day of her wedding when he’d been fresh from a fight with his ex. His mood had been an unpredictable storm building quietly on the horizon and she’d thought it was anger at being lied to. He’d been sarcastic and disparaging and portraying himself as inured to sentiments like love. He’d drunk too much and kissed the bride too passionately. They’d all dismissed it as an act of acrimony toward marriage.