The Italian's Unexpected Baby

And how on earth could she argue with that? Mia felt cornered, and yet she could hardly blame Alessandro for it. She agreed with him…she just wished she didn’t. That there was another way, and yet there so clearly wasn’t.

‘So you want us to live together?’ she surmised hesitantly. ‘In the same house? What about…what about all your women?’

Alessandro looked at her as if she had sprouted horns. ‘I would not have women.’

‘At least a woman, then,’ Mia clarified impatiently. ‘I’ve seen the photos, Alessandro—’

‘The only woman I will have on my arm is you,’ Alessandro returned, his silver gaze snaring hers and pinning her in place. ‘As my wife.’

For a second Alessandro thought

Mia might faint. Her face drained of colour and she swayed where she sat, her lips bloodless as she parted them and tried to speak.

‘What…?’ The word was a scratchy whisper. She shook her head, looking as dazed as if she’d been hit on the head. ‘What…are you talking about?’

‘I thought it would be obvious.’ Although he realised now what had been set in stone in his own mind had not even crossed Mia’s. He’d been so sure of the way forward he might have skipped a few rather crucial steps in their conversation. Well, he would cover them now. ‘I thought I’d made it clear. For Ella’s sake, we will marry. You would live in Tuscany as my wife.’

‘Was that a proposal?’

Her scathing tone caught him on the raw. He’d just offered to marry her, and she was acting offended. ‘It was a fact,’ he stated rather shortly. ‘I accept that neither of us expected or even wished this, Mia, but surely we can put aside our personal preferences for Ella’s sake. It’s the right thing to do.’

‘But you’re talking about my whole life.’

‘And my whole life.’ He met her gaze steadily, refusing to be moved. Mia still looked as if she didn’t know what had hit her.

‘Alessandro, I can’t marry you.’

‘I’m not asking you to marry me this very minute.’ He tried to ignore the sharp needling of hurt he felt at her blunt refusal. ‘I understand we’ll want to get to know another before we say any vows, although the sooner we make this official, the better, as far as I am concerned. Again, for Ella’s sake.’

‘I… I can’t.’ She looked agonised, strangely torn. ‘Alessandro, I can’t.’

‘Why not?’ His voice sharpened. ‘Are you already married?’

‘No, of course not.’ She rose from the sofa, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. ‘I just can’t. I can’t be married. I can’t be married to a man like you.’

‘A man like me?’ His tone had turned icy. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ A man of low birth? A bastard? He’d heard it all before, of course, but it still hurt coming from her.

‘Just…’ Mia shrugged helplessly. ‘Someone so…rigid and in control. You’ve done nothing but order me around since I met you, Alessandro, and I can’t live like that. I can’t let myself live like that.’

Alessandro absorbed her words, as well as the despairing conviction behind them. ‘I understand your concern,’ he said finally. ‘I don’t want you to feel as if you’ve been railroaded into anything. We can leave the discussion about marriage for now. I’m not about to force you to the altar.’ The very thought was distasteful. ‘But I hope you can see the rightness of coming to Italy with me.’

‘For ever?’ Mia flung at him.

Startled, Alessandro shrugged. ‘At least for an…interim period.’

‘How about three months?’ she challenged. ‘I can just about live with that.’

‘Three months,’ he repeated. It wasn’t so long, but hopefully long enough. ‘So we can get to know one another and make sure a relationship between us will work.’

‘A relationship?’ She frowned. ‘Are you saying that we’re…dating?’ She sounded disbelieving.

‘If you are asking if there will be a physical relationship between us,’ Alessandro said after a moment, feeling his way through the words, ‘then I shall leave that up to you.’ He could certainly give her that choice.

‘You will?’

‘I won’t force you to the altar, and neither will I force you to my bed. You will come to it when it’s your choice, not my decree.’

Colour touched her cheeks. ‘So the offer’s open whenever…?’ she queried a bit sardonically.