The Italian's Secret Baby

‘Protect me?’

Head bowed, she didn’t look at him. ‘I’ll explain to your parents that this is my fault. At least you didn’t send out the invitations this time.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ he snarled.

‘Well, obviously we can’t get married now, not even for Sam.’ He was never going to forgive her. Later she would feel regret and pain; right now she felt numb. It was a blessing really.

‘I was never marrying you for Sam.’

Her head lifted and what she saw in his face made her heart thud.

‘When you said that you loved me, Roman, did you mean it?’

He stilled. ‘Love you?’ His eyes closed and he drew a deep shuddering breath.

‘Or maybe you did,’ she put in quickly—she didn’t want to hear him say anything that would spoil that brief perfect moment when she had thought he loved her. ‘But now you don’t—?’

His eyes opened. ‘You don’t switch off love like a tap.’

She blinked in bewilderment. ‘But you despise me, you’ll never forgive me.’

‘Do I look that much of a fool?’ he demanded, sweeping a strong hand through his dark hair. ‘No, don’t answer that, I know I do. I…I say things when I’m angry,’ he revealed awkwardly. ‘I was totally unprepared to hear what you had to say. It’s not an ego-enhancing thing to learn that you were used as breeding stock.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m perfectly aware that you were in an impossible position,’ he admitted.

‘I should have told you.’

He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t the fact you didn’t tell me that made me so angry,’ he revealed. ‘It was the fact you thought you couldn’t tell me, the fact that you thought anything could change the way I feel about Sam.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

A sudden grin spread across his face as he crossed the room to her, his long legs covering the space in two seconds flat. He took her face between his hands.

‘Don’t do humble, Scarlet; it doesn’t suit you.’

‘You’re not angry with me?’

He shook his head. ‘It’s not like I haven’t been guilty of my share of economy in the truth department. I’m capable of cynical manipulation.’

‘Who were you manipulating?’

‘You,’ he admitted. ‘I asked you to marry me because of Sam. I calculated that you were more likely to say yes if I played the happy family card, rather than admit the truth.’

Scarlet ran a finger down the thin white line on his cheek and felt his big body shudder. With a muffled groan he caught her hand and pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the palm.

‘What was the truth, Roman?’ she whispered huskily.

His lips lifted from her skin, but he retained her hand, rubbing it up and down his jaw. She could feel the prickle of the dark shadowy stubble.#p#????#e#

‘The truth is I had fallen in love with you, my brave, bolshy and absolutely beautiful Scarlet.’ The light of undisguised adoration in his face sent a thrill of wonder through her body. ‘I have been half off my head, unable to think about anything else,’ he admitted rawly.

‘I never guessed!’

‘Dear God, I thought I was being obvious enough. Do you actually think I’d travel on a ferry for anyone but you?’

A small gurgle of laughter left her lips before her expression grew grave. ‘You miscalculated, Roman.’

His wary eyes scanned her solemn face. ‘I did?’

‘The truth would have been much more effective,’ she told him simply.

With a smile of fierce relief he drew her to him. He kissed her with a hunger and desperation that made her senses spin.

‘I think we should make it a rule to tell each other the truth in future,’ he said when his mouth finally lifted.

‘But we can tell the odd white lie to other people?’

‘Did you have something specific in mind, cara?’

‘Well, would it be so bad if we made up a little excuse for not going back downstairs straight away?’ she wondered with an innocent smile.

‘I never need an excuse to make love to my woman,’ he declared with breath-taking arrogance. ‘And, in addition, in Italy it is common practice to retire into a darkened room in the middle of the day. Siesta is a very civilised custom,’ he rasped.

‘True, but we’re not in Italy.’

‘But I’m half Italian,’ he reminded her as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. ‘You’ll enjoy being married to an Italian,’ he promised.

‘I’m beginning to think you could be right,’ she agreed with a blissful smile.