CHAPTER TWO
‘MARRIAGE?’ THE WORD spluttered from Piper and she blinked at Dante, acutely aware of his hands holding her and scorching her skin through the layers she wore, setting free memories she’d rather not deal with right at this moment.
‘If you didn’t come here for money then it must be for a ring on your finger.’
The callous tones of his accented voice were splintered with bitterness, shattering any faint and futile hopes that what they’d shared in London might have been the start of something. That his rash proposal was for real.
Who was she trying to fool? She had been nothing more than an amusing diversion from a dull dinner party. And wasn’t that precisely why she’d slipped from his bed in the early hours, stealing a last lingering glance at him as he’d slept? She’d hoped to save her job and her reputation by leaving before the hotel had come to life, but even that attempt had been in vain.
‘Have you any idea how arrogant you sound?’
Where had the considerate and charming man she’d left that dinner party with gone? Was this the real Dante, or was he just shocked at the news she’d brought?
The idea of being pregnant after a one-night stand with a man she’d known she’d never see again had been a complete shock to her. So much so that she’d bought all four pregnancy tests in stock at the small pharmacy near her flat in an attempt to convince herself that she’d got it wrong, that their one night of non-committal but passionate sex hadn’t resulted in pregnancy. Each time she’d used a test she’d become more panic-stricken.
‘Do you have any idea how ridiculous it was for you to come here, tell me such news and expect me to stand aside while you leave?’ Anger laced his accented words. ‘You might have left me once, but it will not happen again, mia cara.’
‘But marriage?’ she protested, desperate to make him see how impossible such an idea was. All she’d wanted was for him to know, to be told to his face that he was going to be a father. It would have been what her father would have wanted her to do. ‘We don’t know anything about each other.’
‘I know where you like to be kissed and how very sexy you look when you are naked. I think that is a good enough start, no?’
He smiled a slow, seductive smile and her heart almost stopped beating as she remembered how he had kissed her, how she’d all but begged for more, not wanting him to stop, wanting only to lose herself in the oblivion of the passion he’d showed her.
‘Exactly the kind of answer I’d expect from a man like you.’ Her temper fired and she drew in a deep breath, challenging the charm he seemed so incredibly capable of even in such a situation.
His eyes darkened and his brows furrowed together. ‘A man like me?’ His accented words were filled with suspicion.
‘There must be some truth in that article in Celebrity Spy!’ She faltered as his eyes narrowed and she knew she’d touched a raw nerve. But hadn’t he charmed her, seduced her, all without them even exchanging names?
‘Do you normally believe everything inside such magazines?’
He moved fractionally closer and she resisted the urge to step back, to keep him from invading her space with the power of his masculinity.
‘No, of course not.’ She snapped the words out quickly, and judging from the smile which lingered on his lips he knew he too had hit the target.
‘I would also suggest you change your reading material to something more...how shall I say it?...salubrious.’
Thankfully he stepped away, and she let out a breath she had no idea she’d been holding, but the urge to justify herself was too great. ‘I don’t normally read it. I was flicking through it whilst waiting at an employment agency.’
‘Employment agency?’ He turned his attention back to her instantly, those incredibly sexy eyes full of mistrust.
She bit down hard, inwardly cursing her wayward tongue. The last thing she wanted him to know was that she was no longer employed because of their night together, but she’d walked into a trap of her own making.
‘I no longer have a permanent contract. The dinner party in London was a one-off.’
‘So,’ he said, and there was a hint of triumph in that one word. ‘You are without a job and pregnant?’
She looked at him warily and corrected him quickly. ‘Between jobs.’
‘And will you easily find another job as your pregnancy progresses? I think not, cara.’
The undeniable self-assurance in his voice irritated her more than she cared to admit—because he was right. Hadn’t that been her worry as she’d tossed and turned every night since discovering she was pregnant? Maybe if she was still living in Sydney, where she’d grown up, she’d be able to find a job. But she wasn’t in Sydney. She’d come to her mother’s city of birth, London, and she knew nobody. And, as much as she wanted to return to Australia, she needed to stay with her mother.
‘That is for me to worry about.’ And worrying was just what she would still be doing when she left here. She’d had such a strong bond with her dad that she couldn’t imagine bringing a baby into the world and it not knowing its father. It was her experience of a father-daughter relationship which had convinced her that seeing Dante was the right thing.
She hadn’t told her mother about the baby yet, afraid to disappoint her, afraid she’d use her father’s memory to make her feel guilty. Would he have been disappointed? No, she silently answered herself, but he would have wanted her to do the right thing.
The need to clear her conscience, to tell Dante personally, had fuelled hopes that he would at least acknowledge the child and hopefully want to be part of its life. But marriage? That was something she hadn’t considered. And even if she had that article in Celebrity Spy! would have smothered that dream completely. Dante Mancini was a charmer—a playboy with a ruthless disregard for any kind of commitment.
‘You will not have to worry about work now you are to be my wife. I will provide you with everything you and my child can possibly want—and more.’
He stood with his back to the amazing view of Rome, with the winter sunshine sliding in around him, making reading his expression difficult. But she had no doubt how fierce the darkness of his eyes was.
‘I do not want to marry you.’ She injected attitude into each word, desperate to push home her point.
‘It’s not negotiable, cara. I am in need of a wife and you are carrying my child—which makes you the perfect choice.’
He walked towards her, away from the sunshine which had temporarily concealed his expression, and the determination she saw on his handsome face made her heart sink. She had very little energy left to fight with.
‘In need of a wife?’ She stumbled over the word ‘wife’, hardly able to believe he wanted her to become his wife. How could a self-professed playboy—a man who had the wealth, power and looks to have any woman he wanted—want to marry her?
‘I am in negotiations for a business deal which I can only pull off if I am seen to be a man with family values. I need a wife—a woman I can be seen publicly with, and one who can be discreet. Because that untimely piece in Celebrity Spy! has made those negotiations somewhat difficult. What better way to prove I am a man of family honour than to stand by the woman who is carrying my child?’
‘You make it all sound like a business deal.’
‘That, cara, is precisely what it will be. You came for money and support and you will now get both—providing we are seen out in public as the perfect couple. The world must believe we are madly in love. In return you will have the honour of being the woman who tamed Dante Mancini.’
* * *
Dante looked at her, saw her face pale and watched her eyes close, provoking images of her beneath him as passion had driven her wild and he’d unwittingly claimed her as his. Now she would pay the price of acting the part of a seductress when she’d been nothing more than an innocent virgin. She’d pay the price with two words. I do.
When her eyes opened, seconds later, the spark of annoyance was back within their sea-green depths. With her shy blushes and understated clothes she certainly didn’t look or act like the kind of woman he would date, let alone fall for, but she had on that night in London. He might have scoffed at Benjamin Carter’s suggestion last night of using the discreet agency run by the American matchmaker Elizabeth Young to find him a suitable wife, but now he would definitely call upon the agency’s services. He needed to transform the Australian redhead who carried his child back into the woman he’d met in London.
‘Honour? You overrate yourself, signor. If it is to be a business deal and not a true marriage I will accept—with one condition.’
‘You do not make the conditions.’ This was not something he was used to. Women dictating to him. It was unheard of. He was always in control, always laying down the rules.
‘I will make all the conditions I want.’
Her flippant tone almost pushed him too far, reminding him just how much his head throbbed with alcohol-induced pain.
‘It is obvious that your need of a wife is far greater than my need to tell you that you are going to be a father.’
‘Molto bene. Name your terms.’ Angrily he crossed the room and sat behind his desk, leaning his arms on its clutter-free surface and fixing her with a warning glare.
‘The marriage will be in name only and it will be ended after an agreed time. Once you have duped the world into thinking you are a reformed character and have secured your business deal, I assume.’
She stood in the centre of his office, her long legs snagging his attention, making him think things he had no right to be thinking—especially as he was negotiating a deal with her. A deal that would save his reputation and enrich his business—and claim her as his.
‘Va bene.’ He nodded his agreement. So far she spoke sense. He didn’t want to be married and had never contemplated it. All he needed right now was to change the way the gossips thought of him, prove he could be a family man if he chose to be and ultimately finalise the deal that would put his company at the top of the renewable energies industry. He also needed to calm the fears of their charity and fix any other negative impact of that damning article.
‘And you will play an active part in the child’s life.’
Her words fell into the suddenly large gap which separated them, highlighting how very different they were.
His brows rose. How could he play an active part in the child’s life when he’d been solely responsible for his younger brother’s untimely death? He wasn’t fit to be a brother, let alone a father. He couldn’t commit to giving his son or daughter anything other than material things. His emotions had frozen and shut down the day his father had walked out on them. Alessio’s death was proof of that.
She must have sensed his reluctance because she stepped closer. ‘I want nothing more than that. If you cannot agree then we do not have a deal and I will leave right now.’
He took a deep breath, forcing back the guilt and regret from the past. He had to think of this as just another deal. One like the many he made each year. He couldn’t open the wounds of his past. But as he looked at Piper he suspected it was already too late. She was the key that had turned in the door he’d long ago slammed shut.
He’d never longed for a woman once his desire had been quenched, but Piper had changed that and it was a change he wasn’t happy about. Reluctantly he admitted he would have to accept her terms. If he didn’t marry her and took another wife she’d have an even bigger story to sell and more damage to do. Worse than that, he would be guilty of turning his back on his child, and he’d pay any price not to do that.
‘We have a deal. I will have it drawn up into a contract by tomorrow.’
For a moment she looked lost, as if she’d expected a big battle. Little did she know that was just what it was for him—but it was his battle and he would fight it alone. He didn’t need anyone—least of all a woman who threatened everything he’d turned his back on after the revelations exposed by Alessio’s death.
‘Then, as we have concluded our business, I will go to my hotel.’ She picked up a bag from beside the chair she’d been sitting in when he arrived. If that was all her luggage she really hadn’t intended on staying in Rome long. Long enough to turn my world on its head. If she thought she could just walk away now, she’d got it all wrong.
He sprang from the seat. ‘You are not going anywhere except to my apartment—with me.’
‘That is totally unnecessary,’ she said, and pulled the somewhat battered bag, which bore no resemblance to the designer bags his women usually had, onto her shoulder. She moved towards the door and once again he found himself needing to stop this woman from leaving.
‘We are lovers, are we not?’ He lowered his voice, smiling to see the blush which crept over her face at the way he spoke. ‘And if we are to be believed as such you will not stay in a budget hotel.’
‘How do you know it’s a budget hotel?’
Indignation flared to life in her voice and her eyes and he knew he’d scored a point in this particular battle.
‘I merely assumed.’ He shrugged and looked at her, liking the way her lips pressed together tightly as she fought to hold back her retort. A fight she soon lost.
‘Well, don’t,’ she snapped at him, then lowered her gaze briefly before meeting his once more.
‘This is a business deal—one which will legitimise my child. A child that will be the heir to all I own. You will have every luxury, Piper, and my word that nothing else will happen between us.’
* * *
Piper gulped back the disappointment. Nothing else would happen between them. She should be pleased. It was exactly what she’d asked for, what she’d wanted, but a part of her ached with the pain of it. She wasn’t his type. The article in Celebrity Spy! had left her in no doubt of that. But the passion which had ravaged them that night in London must have meant something.
‘That is all I want,’ she lied, desperate that he wouldn’t detect even a hint of her dismay. She had to remain strong and firm. He couldn’t know she’d often thought of those few hours which had changed her life even before she’d known she was pregnant.
‘Va bene. It is settled. I will escort you to my apartment now—you look tired and in need of rest.’
As he looked at her she could almost believe he was genuinely concerned, but to fall for such an idea would be her undoing and she had to remain strong.
‘I think it would be better if I booked into a hotel.’ Her words faded to a whisper at the black look on his handsome face, which appeared more severe due to the shadow of stubble he was sporting.
‘How can we be seen as lovers, about to become engaged, if you are not living in my apartment and, as far as the world is concerned, sleeping in my bed?’ He shrugged in that nonchalant way which had attracted her the first night she’d seen him. ‘It would not be very convincing, mia cara.’
Piper pushed her fingers through her hair, trying to control the emotions which were running riot inside her. Emotions she knew full well were intensified by her pregnancy. Why did she feel so let down, so disillusioned? He’d offered to stand by her, support her financially, and most importantly to be a part of their child’s life even if he wasn’t a part of hers. So why was she fighting the urge to cry? She had what she’d come for—and more.
She dragged in a sharp breath and looked up at him as he approached from her left side—her blind side—startling her when he touched her gently on her arm, as he had done several times already.
‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said softly.
Too softly. Her urge to give in to tiredness and tears intensified.
‘Come. You need to rest. You must have left London at an early hour this morning.’
She allowed herself to be guided to the office door, and with his arm lingering around her waist he walked to his secretary’s desk, issuing a flurry of Italian instructions which were met with curious gazes directed at her from the shocked older woman, unsettling her further. Was she so far below the kind of woman he usually dated that even his secretary was shocked?
Everything seemed to take on a glow of unreality as he escorted her out of the offices and to a waiting car. Moments later they were ensconced in the car, moving quickly through the streets of Rome as car horns sounded insistently around them. She wanted to see the sights, but the ride in the car was making her feel unsteady, and all she could do was sit back in the soft leather seats.
On her right, she felt Dante watching her. She could feel the scrutiny of his gaze and almost hear his unspoken questions. Everything about being with Dante again was unlocking all those emotions she’d hidden away as she’d left that hotel in the early hours.
As she got out of the car the tall buildings of the old town towered over her and blocked out the winter sun. She looked up at an impressive building which must have seen many things through history, unable to believe what she’d agreed to.
He took her bag from her. ‘This way. My apartment is on the top floor and offers stunning views of the city from the roof terrace. Have you been in Rome before?’
The light and easy way he spoke was in complete contrast to the way her heart was thumping. What had she done to herself? What had she agreed to? Marriage, be it in name only or not, to a man she barely knew?
‘No. Europe always seemed too far from Australia to think of.’
It had been a trip her mother had wanted to do. She’d tried to convince her father, but he’d never wanted to leave Australia, saying he didn’t need to go so far when he had all he needed at home. As he’d said those words he’d looked at her, and now Piper questioned if her mother’s need to return to England had been the start of their marriage problems.
Dante held the front door open for her and she walked into the cool shade of the old building, trying to leave the memories and questions she’d never have answered outside.
‘Yet you were in London when we met?’
‘I’d only been there for a year. My mother wanted to return to her native country after...’ She floundered for a moment, thinking of the day her father had suddenly died. Exactly one year to the day when she’d met Dante. ‘My father was Australian, my mother British, and after he died she wanted to be with her elderly mother so we left Sydney. Sadly, Grandma passed away a few months ago.’
Dante scrutinised her as he waited for the elevator and she wondered if her true feelings were showing clearly on her face, despite the calm and matter-of-fact way she’d imparted the story of her beloved father’s death.
‘And you were brought up in Sydney?’
She was glad when the elevator doors opened, diverting his attention. She’d never known anything but Sydney. It was not only where she’d grown up, but where she’d been happiest. But all that had changed when her father had been killed in a car accident. The senseless accident had happened not even a year after he’d been told he was in remission from cancer. The injustice of it made her gulp back the tears which threatened.
‘Can’t you tell from the accent?’ She laughed off the pain of those memories, wanting to move the conversation away from her. This wasn’t about her any more. It was about what was best for the baby. Her father had stood by her mother when she’d fallen pregnant and they’d been happy together. But obviously it hadn’t been enough for her mother, because she’d started to make plans to return to London soon after the accident.
‘It’s a nice accent.’ He smiled at her and she wondered if he’d sensed her unease, but his next words obliterated that thought. ‘And very sexy too, when you are consumed by desire.’
‘You should keep such comments for the women you date.’
The words left her before she could stop them, let alone think about what they meant to her. The thought of him dating other women made her heart heavy, but she had to push that aside. Their marriage was to be nothing more than a business deal.
He walked from the elevator, pulling out a key, and turned to look at her as he stopped outside his apartment door. ‘Exclusivity is something I will demand from you if this deal is going to work for us.’
That wouldn’t be a problem as far as she was concerned. Her one spontaneous and totally out of character affair had already caused her more trouble than she’d ever bargained on.
‘I should impose the same on you, but I doubt a man like you can be exclusive to any woman.’
* * *
Dante didn’t miss the crisp tartness in her voice. The subject was something he’d already given thought to on the drive to his apartment. He would have to be faithful to his new fiancée and, given that his body still heated at the memory of hers, it wouldn’t be a challenge. The biggest problem would be to ensure he didn’t repeat what had happened in London. She had made it clear this was to be only a business deal.
If he portrayed himself to the world as a caring and faithful man, in love with the woman who was to be his wife, he would not only clinch the deal he’d almost lost but wipe out the reputation that for years he hadn’t cared about. If he didn’t, the future of The Hope Foundation, the charity he wholeheartedly supported, would hang in the balance.
The three other businessmen who supported the charity were about to do the same. Zayn and Xander had agreed that Benjamin’s suggestion that they settle down was the only way. He’d watched on, uncharacteristically drowning his misgivings in a bottle of whisky, as the ghosts of his past had taunted him that he’d never be able to be responsible for another person without hurting them, forcing them to leave him.
Now he was responsible for a woman who should have been his for just a few hours of mind-blowing sex. Not only that, he was responsible for the child she carried—his child. Could he put himself through that? Could he engage the emotions he’d switched off and risk losing everything again?
‘You will have my full and undivided attention at all times. We are in love, no?’ As he looked down at her that spark of lust, a sexual chemistry too strong to deny, arced between them. He saw her eyes darken, watched her lips part, and his body responded in the only way possible to such a blatant invitation.
‘Nothing can ever happen between us again, Dante.’
Her whisper cracked with desire, and in normal circumstances he would have laughed softly, pulled her against him and kissed her into submission. But these were not normal circumstances. This wasn’t just a meaningless affair that would end as soon as the sun rose the next morning.
‘I have agreed to our terms.’ He unlocked his door and stood back for her to enter, smiling down at her in an attempt to hide the conflicting emotions warring within him. ‘A marriage in name only that will give us both what we want.’
‘More than that, Dante.’
She stood outside, as if crossing the threshold to his home was the last thing she wanted to do. To have her permanently in his life was not what he wanted, but he had his reasons for making this deal. Just as she had hers.
‘It will give our child what it deserves.’
The mention of the baby shocked any response from him and he turned and walked into his apartment—a place he’d never taken a woman before, preferring the anonymity of hotel rooms which he could leave when he was ready.
‘Tomorrow you will sign a contact.’ His irritation at the situation he found himself in sounded in his words—even he could hear that.
Not only was he inviting a woman into his home and his life—permanently—he was giving himself the biggest challenge of all. One he wasn’t sure he could master. He would have to invest himself, his emotions, in a child. How could he do that when the pain of Alessio’s loss, the guilt of his inability to be what someone else needed, still festered in his dormant heart?
‘Until then you will have to trust me when I say that I will be the perfect gentleman, and that you may sleep soundly in my bed.’
‘In your bed?’ The few hesitant steps she’d taken into his domain faltered to a stop.
‘Alone,’ he added.
She really was adamant that they would not be repeating those hot, sultry hours in London. So be it. He didn’t want the added complication of lust becoming more than that.
‘We’ve settled this. As my lover you need to be seen here, at all times of the day and night. What the outside world will never know is that I will sleep there.’
He gestured to the second bedroom, which served as his office. Last night, if one of the other three men had suggested he’d be taking a woman into his life and sleeping in his spare room in order to salvage his reputation and that of his supported charity, he would have laughed.
‘I’m not sure... I’ll find a hotel.’
‘That is not an option any longer, mia cara. You should not have come all this way, imparted such news and then expected me not to put my terms on any arrangement made.’
The late night and early start were finally catching up with him, and all he wanted was to shut the door on the world and relax. But first he had to contact Elizabeth Young and ascertain if her agency offered the services he required. He needed to transform the plain and ordinary woman before him into a fiancée that would bring the gossips to a tongue-tied halt.
‘I can’t take your bed.’
‘Va bene, then I will share it with you if it makes you feel better.’ He stifled a smile at her shock.
‘No,’ she said, and she all but flounced past him into the apartment, her attitude hinting that the woman he’d met in London was still lingering inside her, waiting to be drawn out. If he dared to find her.
‘Then at last we understand one another. I suggest you make yourself at home. I have work to continue with.’
Never had he ever thought he would be inviting a woman into his home, into his life, and telling her to make herself comfortable. The idea was unnerving, but reluctantly he knew it was necessary.
It would make him part of his child’s life. It was a child he’d never wanted, but despite that he already knew he would do anything for it.