The Secret Valtinos Baby (Vows for Billionaires 1)

As silence reclaimed the pool beyond the terrace, Angel audibly expelled his breath, the fierce tension in his lean, darkly handsome features and the set of his wide shoulders fading. He was determined that Merry would not be embarrassed by his mother’s attention-grabbing tactics. Merry was too prim to comfortably cope with the scenes his mother liked to throw. In any case, his wife was entitled to the older woman’s respect. Angelina could dislike her all she wished but, ultimately, she had to accept that her son’s wife was the new mistress of the house and had the right to expect certain standards of behaviour.

‘How is it that the family home belongs to you and not to your mother?’ Merry asked curiously.

‘My grandmother survived my grandfather by several months. She was never able to control her daughter and once she realised that Angelina was pregnant, she left this house to my mother’s descendants rather than to her,’ he advanced.

Merry frowned. ‘That’s kind of sad.’

‘Don’t feel sorry for Angelina. My grandfather adored her and endowed her with a massive trust fund. All her life she has done exactly what she wanted to do, regardless of how it harms or affects others. At some stage, there’s got to be a price to pay for that,’ Angel declared with dry finality. ‘I have long wished that my mother would buy her own property where she could do as she likes without involving me.’

‘Why doesn’t she do that?’ Merry asked with genuine curiosity.

‘The ownership of property involves other responsibilities. Hiring staff, maintenance, running costs…all the adult stuff,’ he pointed out with a sardonic twist of his wide, sensual mouth. ‘My mother avoids responsibility of any kind. May we drop this subject?’

‘Of course,’ Merry conceded, a little breathless while she collided with smouldering dark eyes and sipped at her wine. Her mind, however, remained awash with conjecture about her mother-in-law and her disconnected and antagonistic relationship with her son. At the same time she wasn’t worried about Angelina causing trouble between them because she could see that Angel had few illusions about his parent and intended to protect her from any fallout. And that made her a little sad, made her wonder what it must have been like for him to be saddled with a spoilt heiress of a mother, a party girl, who flatly refused to accept responsibility and grow up. A mother who, from what she could see, had never behaved like a normal mother. Surely that truth must’ve lessened his respect for women and his ability to trust her sex, she reasoned helplessly.

‘Let’s concentrate on us,’ Angel suggested with emphatic cool.

She felt overheated and her mouth ran dry. Her entire body tensed, tiny little tremors shimmying through her pelvis, tremors of awareness, arousal and anticipation. She was embarrassed by the level of her sheer susceptibility, shaken by the power he had over her, suddenly wondering if he too knew the full extent of it…

CHAPTER SEVEN

ANGEL GRASPED HER HAND and eased her up out of her seat. ‘I have a special request,’ he admitted almost harshly.

Enthralled by the golden glimmer of his intense appraisal, Merry moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘And what would that be?’

Long fingers flicked the silken bell of hair that fell to just below her shoulders. ‘You cut your hair. I loved it the way it was. Will you grow it again for me?’ he asked levelly.

Surprise darted through Merry, who had wondered if he had even noticed that she had shortened her hair. ‘I suppose that could be arranged,’ she breathed shakily.

‘Why did you cut it?’ he demanded. ‘It was really beautiful.’

Even more taken aback by that blunt question and the compliment, Merry coloured. She couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t afford to dwell on unfortunate memories at this stage of their marriage or mention truths that he might think were aimed at reproaching him. But when she had been pregnant and struggling against an unending tide of exhaustion and sickness to get through every day, the amount of care demanded by very long hair had simply felt like an unnecessary burden.

‘It was too much work to look after when I was pregnant,’ she muttered awkwardly.