The Italian's Unexpected Heir

Once inside, she refused to go to bed and instead settled on the couch. He sat with her. He rubbed his palms over his jeans. Unable to get comfortable, he jumped to his feet. He started to pace.

He had questions, lots of questions. But he didn’t know if now was the right time to ask them. In fact, it probably wasn’t the time. He kept his mouth shut and his feet moving over the hardwood floor.

“Ask me,” she said.

He stopped and turned to her. “What?”

“You want to ask me about the baby, so go ahead. And yes, the baby is yours.”

“How long have you known?” His gaze searched hers as though he could tell if she was lying or not.

“I didn’t. I swear. I just found out when you did.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “This... It changes everything.”

She glanced down, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in her blouse. “I don’t want it to sway your decision.”

“What decision?” Was she referring to their relationship? Or had she already skipped ahead to marriage and living happily ever after? Because that had never crossed his mind. Well, not really. Maybe once or twice. But that was it.

Frown lines etched her eyes. “I don’t want you to keep the estate out of a sense of obligation.”

He didn’t say anything. Once more he started to pace. He had a lot to think over before they continued this discussion. There was so much to consider.

“Enzo, I’m sorry.”

He stopped. His gaze sought out hers. “Sorry for what?”

“For further complicating your life.”

He believed her. He really did. But he didn’t blame her. He blamed himself. And right now he couldn’t give her the words of reassurance she wanted to hear. He needed time to think.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said, glancing away. “It’s getting late. Do you want anything to eat?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

He’d gotten them some takeaway at the hospital while they waited for the test results to come back. It’d taken a while because he insisted the doctors check her thoroughly. He had to be certain she and the baby were all right.

Sylvie stood as though to head for the door. “I’ll just let you out.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What?”

His gaze met hers. “I’m sleeping right here on the couch.”

“But...but it’s too small for you.”

He crossed his arms, refusing to budge. “It’ll be just fine. And I want to be close by in case you need anything. After all, you have a concussion.”

“A slight one.”

“But one all the same.”

She opened her mouth as though to argue but then she closed her mouth and walked away. Apparently, she wasn’t up for a fight she wasn’t going to win.

He resumed pacing and thinking. There wasn’t a tired bone in his body. He was totally wound up. He was going to be a father. They were going to be parents. Sylvie was the mother of his baby. The image of her holding a baby filled his chest with a warm, fuzzy sensation.

Sylvie returned, interrupting his daydream. She placed a blanket and pillow on the couch. “You’ll need these.”