Tara Pammi - Italian Mavericks - Carrying The Italian's Heir - Married for the Italian's Heir / The Last Heir of Monterrato / The Surprise Conti Child

‘You were utterly brilliant and you won D’Antonio over. He loved you. He practically melted each time you spoke and you know it.’

There was a caustic edge to his words as they sliced through the atmosphere in the room and she knew right there and then that something had changed. It felt different between them, and she didn’t know what it was.

‘Telling him of your passion for art was a clever move.’

‘It is real, Dante. It is what I would have done if I hadn’t given up university when my father became ill.’

‘A well-played move, no?’

‘I should go to bed.’ She got up. The need to escape both the brooding man who dominated every bit of space in the room and the way her body yearned for his touch and his kiss was overwhelming. She definitely had to go.

‘Tell me about your father’s illness.’

Dante’s words froze her to the spot and she looked at him, still standing without a care in the world, so casually leaning on the mantelpiece of the fireplace.

‘There’s nothing more to tell.’ She fired the words defensively back at him as grief assailed her, rushing back so strongly her legs felt weak. She wanted to sit down, but doing so would mean staying beneath his scrutiny.

‘It would have helped me to know of such a detail before spending the evening with D’Antonio, trying to convince him we are a couple in love—a couple about to marry and share our lives—which means sharing our pasts.’

‘That’s something you too are guilty of.’

He pushed firmly away from the fireplace and came towards her, but she couldn’t move, even though she knew she should. The fierce intensity in his eyes struck fear into her heart, closely followed by anticipation. For what, she didn’t know.

‘But we are not really sharing our lives, are we, Dante? We are engaged to be married, and it is merely for the convenience of your business deal.’

Now all the worries she’d had about the future over the last week pushed forth and she couldn’t stem the flow of words.

‘What will happen when you get your stupid deal? Will you walk away from me, from your child, as if we never existed?’

Dante closed the distance between them, coming to stand very close to her, making her heart pound in a way she’d only experienced once before, on the night he took her hand and led her to his hotel room.

‘You don’t think very highly of me, do you, cara?’

He spoke softly, serving only to irritate her further. She wasn’t a sullen child to be appeased.

‘Your reputation isn’t exactly squeaky clean, Dante. What am I supposed to think?’

She wasn’t about to stand there and discuss this tonight, least of all admit how much she liked him—and more. She was tired—which, together with the pregnancy, must be the reason for her emotions being all over the place. It couldn’t be Dante. She didn’t want it to be Dante—didn’t want him to affect her.

‘I never go back on a deal, Piper. Ever.’ A firm and sharp edge speared into his words, and if they’d been discussing anything else she might just have fallen for it. ‘I needed to know about your father’s illness. It’s the sort of detail a loving fiancé would know.’

‘Very well.’ She flounced away from him, desperate to reinstate the distance between them. She couldn’t deal with the scent of his aftershave invading her senses, the heat of his body so very close to hers, and definitely not his dark penetrating gaze, watching her so intently. ‘What do you need to know?’

‘When did he die?’

Piper closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, not sure she could do this now, but acutely aware that what he said made sense. If they were to look like a newly engaged couple he had to know at least something about her.

‘The night I met you in London was the first anniversary of his death.’ She lifted her chin and looked into his eyes, unwittingly sending him a challenge to ask more. A challenge he took.

‘So you used the attraction between us as a way to escape?’ He visibly stiffened before her, his whole body becoming rigid and his dark eyes almost fusing her to the spot.

‘Yes,’ she stated boldly, still ashamed at the way she’d needed to rebel against everything she’d stood for, every moral she’d been brought up to believe in. The only problem now was that she could see why her mother had insisted they both move to London. To keep what little of her family she had left together. Wasn’t she herself about to throw her life into this man’s hands for the sake of her unborn child?

‘Why me? Had you planned this outcome all along? This unexpected pregnancy?’

He flung his hands up in a gesture of frustration and turned away from her, giving her time to recover. But any recovery was short-lived. The next time he looked at her angry sparks glittered in his eyes.

‘Was that why you didn’t insist on contraception?’

‘No!’ she gasped, and stepped back away from his anger. ‘I thought you were telling me it was taken care of.’

He moved towards her and she took another step back until she met the coolness of the wall behind her, finding strength in it.

‘Did you perhaps know who I was that night?’

‘I had no idea who you were, and if I had I would never, ever have left the party with you.’ Angered by her silly notions of fate having brought them together, on that night of all nights, she met his fury head-on. ‘I can’t do this any more.’

He moved menacingly closer. ‘What can’t you do?’

His voice had deepened, his accent heightened, and the look in his dark eyes of anger blending with veiled passion made her heart thump so hard it almost hurt.

‘This pretence,’ she flung at him, unable to unlock her gaze from his or stop the pounding of her heart.

‘And what pretence would that be, cara?’

‘The...the engagement.’ She stammered the words out as he moved a little closer, those sexy eyes looking deep into her soul, as if finding the answer she couldn’t even give herself.

‘I think you mean the cold indifference you have adopted since you arrived in Rome.’

‘It is the only way to get through this charade.’ She hated it that her voice gave her away and turned into a whisper, that his close proximity was starving her of the last remnants of stamina and strength she had left after the last few hours.

‘But it is not all a charade—is it, mia cara?’

He touched her face, the contact of his fingers on her skin so soft, but she couldn’t stop the deep breath being dragged from her. And she hated the satisfaction which played on his lips and sparked in his eyes. She hated him and yet she wanted him. Badly.

‘Of course it is.’ Her breathing was impossible to control and she drew it in deep and hard as he looked down to her neck, where he must surely see her pulse beating wildly, and then to her breasts, which rose and fell with each deep breath. ‘You mean nothing to me.’

‘Don’t lie.’

The intensity in his eyes sent a spiral of hot need flooding down through her, right to the very heart of her femininity.

‘Or I may have to prove you wrong...prove how untrue that is.’

‘Don’t you dare!’ she gasped in shock, while inside a traitorous voice called, I dare you to.

The glint in his eyes fired with desire and she knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to kiss her—and she wanted him to. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, to taste him and so much more. But that wasn’t the deal they’d made. The deal they’d made had been on paper only, was one that meant they would have nothing physical to do with each other and certainly nothing emotional.

‘Never challenge me, Piper. I always accept—and I always win.’

‘Not this time.’ She glared up at him, more angry at her own reaction to him than at his boast of always winning.