The Italian's Unexpected Baby

“If you’ll live in Verina with me and do what must be done to have my children, yes,” he said with a dark smile.

She was still shaking her head at the outrageous proposition but found herself pressing her free hand to her middle, trying to still the flutters of wicked anticipation that teased her with imaginings of how those babies would get made.

She veered her mind from such thoughts.

“Why? I mean, why me?” She lifted her gaze to his, catching a flash of sensual memories reflected in the hot blue of his irises.

“I’ve already told you. I want you in my bed.”

“And that’s it? Your fly has spoken? That’s the sum total of your motivation?”

His eyes narrowed, becoming flinty and enigmatic. “There are other reasons. I’ll share them with you, but they can’t leave this room.”

That took her aback. “What if I don’t want to carry your secrets?”

“You’re going to carry my name and my children. Of course you’ll keep my secrets. Would you like to tell me yours?” He regarded her over the rim of his glass as he sipped, as though waiting for her to tip her hand in some way.dpg!

She shrugged her confusion. “I’m not exactly mysterious,” she dismissed. “The most interesting thing that’s ever happened to me is happening right now. You realize how eccentric this sounds?”

“Eccentric or not, it’s a good offer. You should accept it before I chan

ge my mind.”

She snorted. “You’re quite ruthless, aren’t you?” She spoke conversationally but knew it as truth in her bones.

“I do what has to be done to get the results I want. You understand that sort of pragmatism, even if you’ve pointed your own efforts in dead-end directions. I look forward to seeing what you accomplish when you go after genuinely important goals.”

“This is my home. It’s important to me.”

“Then claim it.”

A choke of laughter came out of her. “Just like that? Accept your proposal and—” She glanced at the paperwork. “I’m not going to agree to anything before I’ve actually reviewed that offer.”

“Due diligence is always a sensible action,” he said with an ironic curl of his lip. He waved his glass toward the table, inviting her to sit and read.

Gingerly she lowered onto the sofa and set aside her whiskey.

Rhys kept his back to her, gaze fixed across the valley as he continued to sip his drink, saying nothing as she flipped pages.

His behavior was the sort of thing a dominant wolf would do to indicate how little the antics of the lesser pack affected him, but she was glad not to have his unsettling attention aimed directly at her as she compared the two contracts. Aside from the exchange of money on Maude’s—and the fact that hers finalized on her wedding day—they were essentially the same.

“I want possession on our engagement. If I decide to accept your proposal,” she bluffed, fully expecting him to tell her to go to hell.

“Done. On the condition we begin the making of our children on the day our engagement is announced.” He turned, and his eyes were lit with the knowledge his agreement had taken her aback. “We’ll keep the conception part as a handshake agreement. No need to write that down in black-and-white.”

He brought her a pen. His hand was steady as he offered it. Hers trembled as she hesitantly took it.

“Are you completely serious?” she asked.

“Make the change. Sign it. I’ll explain why I want you to marry me. You’ll accept my proposal, and Cassiopeia’s will be yours.”