The Italian's Unexpected Baby

It had been easy at night, when their bodies took over, and yet he knew that those earth-shattering nights were actually drawing them closer together. Making him want even more from Mia—and for her to want more than he was able to give.

Because during the day, when she asked about his family, or looked at him with so much expectation in her eyes, when he felt a welling of need inside him, a need that felt overwhelming and consuming…he started to freeze. To fear.

He was falling in love with Mia; hell, he was already in love with her, and he knew what happened when you loved someone. They rejected you. Eventually, always, they rejected you.

In his mind’s eye he could see his mother’s haggard face, the weary resignation in her face giving truth to her words.

‘I wish I’d never had you.’

His own mother had wished him out of existence. His father hadn’t wanted to know him at all. How on earth could he expect Mia to love him the way he knew he loved her…especially when she’d said she’d never wanted to love anyone at all? That had suited him admirably…once.

Now the only choice he felt he had was to keep himself safe. Separate. But the result was this restless ache, this impossible anxiety.

Needed to think?

He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

Snatching up his phone and his coat, Alessandro decided he’d confront Mia directly, ask her just what she needed to think about. Even if he didn’t like the answer, it was surely better to know.

It took an hour to drive back to the villa, and with each minute Alessandro felt his insides coil tighter and tighter, till everything in him was ready to snap and break. What did Mia need to think about? What was going on?

He’d tell her he loved her, he decided recklessly. He’d admit the truth he’d been trying to hide from himself, even if the thought made his stomach cramp even more. Did he dare be that vulnerable? Open himself up to that much pain?

But what was the alternative? To live in this welter of frustration and fear, walking a tightrope between staying safe and being real? Gaining nothing or risking everything?

He’d always been willing to take a risk in business, and here was the biggest risk of all. He would be man enough to take it.

Filled with determination, powered by adrenalin, he drove up the sweeping lane to the villa, only to find it darkened and empty.

Perhaps she’d gone to bed already, he thought as he hurried upstairs.

‘Mia…?’ he called softly as he opened the door to their bedroom. It was empty, the bed still made up and untouched. Frowning, Alessandro walked down the hall to Ella’s nursery, his blood freezing to ice in his veins at the sight of the empty cot, the open drawers, the missing clothes. Back to the master bedroom, and he saw that a suitcase was gone, along with some of Mia’s clothes.

She’d left him, he realised hollowly. She’d actually left him. And she’d taken his daughter with him.

He sank onto the bed, caught between grief and rage. So this was why Mia had needed to think? To think about whether she was leaving him—for a night, or perhaps, heaven help him, even for good? He couldn’t see any other possibility. Memories of his childhood, of empty apartments, lonely nights and constant uncertainty, tormented him, and made him unable to think clearly, or even at all. All he knew was he was alone, and he hated it.

Alessandro dropped his head into his hands, overcome with emotion. Thank heaven he hadn’t told her he loved her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A NIGHT AWAY hadn’t given Mia much rest. The hotel had been small and noisy, and Ella had had an unsettled night. Mia had, as well, missed the strong, solid presence of her husband in her bed. She’d gone away hoping to order her own thoughts, gain a bit of her independence back, but the time apart had only made her realise how much she missed Alessandro—and, yes, loved him.

The truth was stark and real, and she couldn’t hide it from herself any longer. As she climbed in the taxi to head home the next morning, she let that realisation rest and then grow inside her, filling up all the empty space.

She loved him.

She hadn’t meant to, hadn’t wanted to, but she’d fallen in love with a man who most likely didn’t feel the same way about her.

The realisation thudded dully inside her. This was the exact scenario she’d once feared, the one thing she’d never wanted to come to pass, and yet here she was, knowing it was true and having to deal with it.

How?

By telling Alessandro she loved him? The thought filled Mia with frightened panic, and yet she also knew, intrinsically and instinctively, that it was the right thing to do. What kind of love was it if she couldn’t even admit to it? And if he was horrified, if he told her flat out he didn’t love her back…well, then at least she’d know.

As the taxi came up the villa’s drive, hope warred with icy terror. Could she really do this? What if, improbably, impossibly, Alessandro told her he loved her back? Dared she even dream…?

Mia held on to that hope as she climbed out of the taxi, Ella in her arms. She’d just paid the driver and started towards the steps when the front door was thrown open.