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

Before she could say anything he led her back to the bedroom, back to the large bed and the rumpled cream sheets, tossing aside the distinctly masculine bronze covers.

‘I intend to make love to you again before we discuss anything.’

‘But we should talk.’

‘No talking.’

He pushed her gently back onto the bed, the towel she clutched around her falling open, exposing her to his gaze. But he didn’t take advantage of that for too long. He dropped the towel he’d slung around his hips to the floor and joined her on the bed, kissing down her body.

As he reached her still flat stomach he pressed light feathery kisses to it, and in her lust-drugged stupor she imagined him kissing his child. His hands caressed her waist in the most loving of gestures and she had to squeeze her eyes shut against a tear that threatened to fall.

Piper clutched at the sheets when he moved lower, hardly able to believe the sensations rushing around her. Love and lust were becoming entwined and she knew it was dangerous. This wouldn’t sort things out, but it was certainly a distraction she was prepared to endure. He made her feel alive. He made her feel beautiful. And after years of thinking she didn’t deserve love it was almost too much—because this wasn’t love. It could never be love.

He kissed his way back up, over her stomach to her breasts, teasing each hardened nipple in turn before moving over her, the hardness of his erection encouraging her to become his once more. It was a temptation too much and she welcomed him into her, relished the fizz of desire with each move he made and abandoned herself to the moment once more.

* * *

Dante’s body still hummed from the amazing sex he’d enjoyed with Piper since they’d returned to his villa last night. He’d never intended to take her so roughly, and especially not against the wall in his living room, but she did something to him no other woman had done. Just as she had done that night in his hotel room in London. She made him lose control, made him forget everything. She drove him wild.

Now he watched her cross the living room to join him as he sat in front of a newly lit fire. It might not be winter yet but he wanted the comfort of it and the way it made him relax, and he wanted to share this special time with Piper. For the first time ever he wanted to allow a woman close—for a while at least.

‘Oh, an open fire. Now, that’s something I’m not used to.’ She smiled at him and sat in a large chair, curling her jean-clad legs under her.

‘It’s much better from over here.’ He surprised himself by inviting her to come closer to him. It might be down to the way he always felt relaxed here, or the intimacy they’d shared since arriving, but he wanted her close. He’d never wanted anyone close. What was happening to him?

‘I guess so.’ Shyness entered her voice and a blush spread over her cheeks as she went to sit on the sofa next to him, concentrating intently on the fire as if she couldn’t look at him. ‘It’s quite romantic, really.’

Romantic? Had he been trying for ‘romantic’ when he’d lit it, envisaging them curled up together enjoying each other’s company? He’d wanted to escape everything, just for today, but romance was the last thing he wanted to make her think of. He didn’t believe in romance and definitely didn’t want it in his life. Such things led to more complicated emotions like love, and that was something he didn’t want to tango with—for any price.

‘I find a fire relaxing,’ he said guardedly. ‘It’s one of my winter pleasures when I’m here at the villa.’

‘We do need to talk.’ She spoke with caution and glanced across at him. ‘About last night.’

‘Do you mean the amazing success you made of coaxing Bettino D’Antonio round with your talk of art, or what happened when we returned?’ He also spoke with caution, anxious that she didn’t make too much of the hours they’d spent in bed, the amount of times they’d had sex. He never thought of it as making love. That would give it an entirely different meaning.

‘The dinner.’ Indignation cracked in her voice. ‘Do you really think Bettino was impressed?’

Dante moved across the sofa towards her, took her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. ‘Mia cara, you positively charmed him, and I am certain that it will be not one but two contracts which will be coming our way.’

He had a good feeling about the deal now, and he knew he had Piper to thank for that. Her talk of art, of wanting to run her own curating business, had been so spontaneous, so full of enthusiasm, D’Antonio had been unable to resist her—and if truth be told neither had he. He’d sat and watched as her eyes had sparkled with genuine joy and shone with pleasure whilst she was talking about art. He’d also been just a little put out that he hadn’t known exactly how important the subject was to her. She’d told him she liked to visit art galleries, but it was obvious it was far more than that.

‘But I’m not qualified. I didn’t finish my course and I don’t have a business.’ She paled as the implications hit her. ‘I can’t take a contract—not when there are good companies out there already. And there’s the baby...’

‘A business can be started right now if you want. Your knowledge of the subject is more than enough.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘I’m sure it’s sufficient, at least. How far into your degree were you?’

‘I’d nearly finished. I was in my last year when my father got sick. I only had my final exams to do, really. I meant to go back, but...’

‘That’s more than enough to start with. And a commission from D’Antonio would set you up—if that’s what you want.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

The reservation in her voice made him want to hold her and tell her he’d help her. Why did he want to do that? Why did he feel the need to tangle himself up emotionally with this woman more than he already was?

He shrugged, letting her hand go, and sat back, studying her pensive expression. There was more—much more to her reservation. He could feel it.

‘I have other things to do first.’

She looked up at him and he held her gaze, challenging her to speak her mind, say what was bothering her—because something was.

‘What is so important, Piper?’

She looked uncertainly at him and apprehension settled over him, suffocating the relaxed peace he’d found.

‘I’d like us both to go to London.’ After holding his gaze for the briefest of moments she looked down, her long lashes shutting him out.

‘Is there something in particular you wish to do there? Somewhere you want to be seen to validate our engagement?’ He kept his voice light, but inside the fingers of dread were closing in, threatening to choke him. This woman, who’d claimed to want nothing from him, now seemed to want much more than he could ever give.

‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘I’d like us to see my mother.’

The thump to his chest as the reality of his fears hit him was hard. ‘No. This engagement is to secure a business deal and to legitimise our child. There is no need to bring family members into it.’

Unease shrouded him. What would his mother think when she read in the papers or the glossy magazines that he was to be married? Worse still, that he was to be a father?

‘Surely your mother will want to know? Even if you can’t tell her the sordid truth.’

The spike of hurt in her voice should have made him feel guilty, but already he could feel his emotions closing off, feel himself withdrawing. They’d shared a night of passion and it should have changed nothing, but somehow it had changed everything.

‘My mother will know only what she has to, and I suggest you do the same with your mother. This is not a real engagement and there isn’t any need to complicate it further.’ Anger surged through him as he fought back the fear of what his mother would think of his latest deal, of the false hope he might give her that he’d finally left the past behind.