HELEN BIANCHIN - The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command

Whether by accident or design Dante entered the informal dining room and shared breakfast with her and Ben each morning…and most evenings he arrived home from the city office in time to join them for dinner. What was more, he supervised Ben’s bath-time, and shared the telling of their nephew’s bedtime story.

Whatever her reservations, she had to concede Dante had Ben’s continuing welfare at heart as he displayed genuine caring and affection at every turn.

Gradually Ben’s tendency towards solemnity was beginning to fade as he smiled more often, and the occasional bad dreams where he woke crying in the night were beginning to diminish.

The move into Dante’s home was proving to be the right choice…for Ben.

So why was she so tense and on edge? Instinctively wary and unable to relax?

The simmering electricity existent beneath the surface whenever she was in Dante’s presence…what was that?

Did he sense it? Or was it merely a figment of her imagination?

Whatever, it was a complication she didn’t want or need.

Oh, for heaven’s sake… take a reality check , why don’t you?

She was one of two surrogate parents, committed to raising their nephew together. This was all about Ben… all of it .

She shared a beautiful, spacious house with a home office to die for, her own suite of rooms, staff to cook and clean, financial freedom.

So why did she have this niggling feeling something was missing? It hardly made sense.

Taylor drained the rest of her juice from her glass, collected her plate and returned both to the kitchen, then she filched a bottle of water from the refrigerator and retreated back to her work until it was time to collect Ben from kindergarten.

He burst through the door when summoned, a finger-painting clutched in one hand, his knapsack in the other, and a delighted smile lighting his face.

‘I got a gold star!’

She caught him close in a warm hug. ‘You did? That’s fantastic.’

‘I did a finger-painting of you, me and Zio Dante. Shelley said it’s very good.’

Shelley was one of the carers employed to teach and supervise the pupils…a young, bubbly brunette adored by the children.

‘Can I see it?’

Ben unfolded the paper with care and took great pride in identifying each figure. ‘That’s you with long hair, and I made Dante big, ’cos he’s tall, and that’s me.’

Taylor felt her heartstrings tug a little at the sight of a small figure holding the hand of the adult standing either side of him.

Her eyes welled with moisture, and she swept him into her arms. ‘It’s a beautiful painting.’

Ben looked at her closely. ‘Why are you crying?’

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.