The Italian Billionaire's New Year Bride

She took a deep breath and smiled. She would always be nervous. She didn’t imagine those feelings would ever go away. But having someone who would support her would make things a little easier. Someone she could rely on. Someone she could trust.

It swept over her. Like a warm, soothing breeze. Someone she might love.

For the tiniest second she couldn’t breathe. It felt as if a little flower were blooming and opening in her chest. She’d had her heart sealed off and protected for so long—she’d just never thought she would get here again.

And now, when she least expected it, Matteo had just bolted into her life. With his brisk, businesslike manner she hadn’t expected to be attracted to him. But somehow or other, this man with so many barriers in place, yet with a rich sexy accent and the occasional cheeky twinkle in his eye, had made her feel a whole lot of something.

Sometimes love caught you unawares.

She reached her other hand over Matteo’s. “I think I might like that.” She smiled. They stayed like that for a few minutes, their gazes meshed, just touching, against the backdrop of St Peter’s Basilica—one of the most beautiful places in the world. Life really couldn’t be more perfect.

She’d told him her biggest secrets, and he’d told her his. But together they could do this. He would support her. And she would support him with what he needed to do when he got home.

Matteo reached over and gently stroked the side of her face. “Thank you for being here,” he whispered. “I can’t imagine being here with anyone else. Just you, Phoebe. You make Rome perfect for me.”

Her heart swelled in her chest. He felt the same as she did. So she did what felt entirely natural. She leaned forward and met his lips with hers. “You do the same for me.”

Nothing felt so sweet. Nothing felt so right. She would remember this moment forever.

When they finally pulled apart, Matteo laughed and straightened his clothes. “I guess we should take a walk. I think I might need to cool off a little.”

Strolling through Rome with Matteo’s arm over her shoulders couldn’t have been sweeter.

* * *

She should have really spent all day working at the villa in Rome—after all, that was why she was there—but she was confident she would be able to do the task over the next week.

Since they’d arrived back at the villa she’d spent the last hour writing notes for work tomorrow, and then dressed for dinner. Apparently, tonight she would get to taste the best ravioli in Italy.

She tugged at the red dress she was wearing. It was a little longer than she normally wore, but the light floaty fabric skimmed her curves in a way she liked and it would be perfect for dinner.

Matteo was waiting for her downstairs. He met her with a kiss that made her knees tremble and sent little sparks flying around her body.

But as they went to leave Matteo’s phone rang.

“I’ll switch it off,” he said quickly as he pulled it from his pocket. But his brow dipped sharply once he glanced at the screen.

He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Brianna?”

Phoebe felt her heart squeeze in her chest. She walked straight over and put her hands on his other arm. “What is it?”

He changed from English and started speaking rapidly in Italian. She could see him trying to stay calm, even though his words were coming out more frantically and more sternly.

She hated the fact she couldn’t understand almost as much as she hated the fact she couldn’t hear what was being said at the other side. “Is she okay?”

Matteo blanched. His tone of voice changed. She heard his brother’s name. Vittore. At that point, he launched into a tirade, before walking over to the house phone and starting to dial another number.

“What can I do? What can I do to help you?”

But Matteo didn’t seem to hear her. He moved between phone calls. Hanging up on the mobile and giving rapid instructions—still in Italian—into the house phone.

When he finally hung up he looked as if he’d aged ten years in a few minutes. “What is it?” she persisted.

“Brianna. She went into hospital yesterday and didn’t let Vittore tell me. Things are bad. They have to deliver the baby in the next few hours. I have to go home.”

Phoebe blinked then nodded. “Absolutely. Of course you do. I’ll pack.”

“No.”

His voice was sharp. It was almost as if he’d switched off and gone into automatic pilot. “You stay here. You finish the house. Make it ready for the viewing next week that will complete the sale. That’s what I need you to do right now.”

“But your family?” Phoebe took a deep breath. “Maybe you should speak to Vittore before you take off. Let him know you’re worried. Tell him why. He’ll be with Brianna for the next few hours.”