Bought by Her Italian Boss

“Are you giving yourself to me?”

“I am,” she said solemnly.

Excitement lit his eyes, but his kiss was tender. “Then I will do my best with you. That is a promise, mia bella.” He settled his hips low and his hard, glorious length slid into her, slid home, making her groan in welcome. This was where they both belonged.

“Ti amo tanto,” he groaned. I love you so much.

And later, when they were debating whether to rise and go out to eat, both completely lacking the will to move any more than a hand to caress a collarbone or turn their lips into each other’s skin, her ringtone sounded from the other room.

Leaning off the bed for his pants, Vito pulled out his own phone and dialed, saying a moment later, “She’s not coming home tonight. We’ll come by your father’s in the morning on the way to the jewelry store. I’ll ask for her hand like a proper suitor. Good enough?”

It must have been because he hung up after one grumbled word from a voice she recognized as Trav’s.

“I told you he’s annoying,” she said.

Vito set aside his phone and gathered her beneath him, bracing himself on his elbow above her, just looking at her in the half light of dusk coming through the uncovered windows.

“I like it, tesoro. I’m a competitive man. I will enjoy treating you so well he is forced to eat his words again and again.”

She burst out laughing, not asking where his edges and superiority complex came from. At least he was using his naturally dominant nature for good instead of evil.

“I do love you, you know,” she told him, gazing into his eyes. “I love you because you told me. You trust me. That means so much.”

“I never imagined telling anyone.” He frowned across the room, into the middle distance. “It’s not about protecting me anymore, but protecting the bank. This could be a very big problem for the family.”

“I’ll never tell a soul, I promise.”

“I know.” His brows gave a little pull, like she was stating the obvious. “I knew when I came here that even if you were repelled, the secret would always be safe with you.”

She petted his cheek, smoothing his rough stubble, chiding, “But I will take every opportunity to point out things like the fact that you have a crazy fierce capacity for loyalty. If your son or daughter had the same, we’d have nothing to worry about.”

His beautiful mouth pursed. “One of the first things I admired about you was that fighting spirit of yours.”

“Really?” She tussled with him and he let her win, so she had him on his back and she sat straddled over his thighs. But rather than crow with triumph as she pinned his big hands to the mattress, she leaned down to say against his lazy, satisfied grin, “You changed my world and I’m going to change yours.”

“Vows to live by, mia bella. I do.”

EPILOGUE

“DON’T YOU DARE, you little streaker!” Gwyn said, but her daughter had figured out that her mother was handicapped by a belly the size of Nebraska. She slithered away and left Gwyn on her knees holding a towel and a clean diaper.

“Vito!” Gwyn cried, and awkwardly clambered to her feet, waddling after her just-turned-two-year-old into the hall.

Antoinietta made her way down the stairs with determined little feet, hands gripping each of the uprights in turn, always tenacious about getting what she wanted, but willing to play by the rules once they were given to her.

Vito made no effort to come up to the girl, just stood at the bottom with his hands on his hips. “You really take after your mother, don’t you?”

“Oh, you’re funny,” Gwyn told him, narrowing her eyes in a promise of retribution. “I told her who was coming for dinner. It was supposed to be an inducement to get her into her clothes, but...” She waved to indicate how well that had worked.

“Bea!” Toni called, trying to dodge her father as he made a grab for her at the bottom of the stairs. Then she said a very stern, “No, Papa,” when he caught her and carried her up the stairs. The higher he went, the more she struggled and the louder she said, “Down.”

“Yeah, that’s all me,” Gwyn said as he took the diaper from her. Their daughter was making a very serious effort to get out of his hold, squirming so hard her face was red, pudgy fists white and tiny brows screwed up with stubborn resolve.

“She’s two,” Vito said.

“She’s yours,” Gwyn said, chuckling when that actually made him close his arms even more tenderly around his adamant little girl.

“She is,” he said proudly, and proceeded to speak in a calm voice, explaining that her cousins would be here soon, but she had to dress first.