The Italian Boss's Secret Child(20)

       
           



       

She knew it wasn't going to be easy-she'd never thought that. But  hearing him put it like that- She swallowed, attempting to bury her  doubts and regain the confidence she'd felt when she'd worked out that  this was what she should do. 'Lots of women do. They get by.'

'Not with my child they don't!'

The vehemence of his words took her by surprise. Was this really the man  with the reputation of a confirmed bachelor and dedicated non-family  man?

'Then what are you suggesting? Some sort of financial support for the child?'

'Not just that,' he said as he looped his tie deftly into the perfect  knot. 'Something much more appropriate for all of us. An arrangement  that will mean you don't have to worry about balancing work with  child-care. Something that will ensure your and the child's security for  life.'

Her breath caught as a tingle of sensation bubbled inside. No, it wasn't  possible. Surely he wasn't about to suggest marriage? But what else  could offer the security the child needed, the solid foundation for a  future life?

Maybe she'd underestimated him. Marriage didn't sound like something the  commitment-averse Damien would suggest to anyone, least of all to her.  Did the existence of a baby make so much difference, that now she was  worthy of consideration as his bride, now she was considered marriage  material?

Marriage.

Marriage to Damien.

How would it feel to be Damien's wife? To wake up alongside him every  day, to feel his strong body holding her safe at night, to make a family  with him.

To have his child and to have him too-dreams were made of lesser stuff.

So he didn't love her. She knew that. But they could still make it work.  She loved him and she'd make it work if it meant pretending to be  Cleopatra every night to do it. She'd do whatever it took.

It would be worth it.

She waited, almost too scared to breathe, unable to speak and ask what  he could possibly mean. After what seemed an age he returned from the  bathroom, his hair restored to its usual executive state, the tracks of  her fingernails obliterated.

'I have a property, out of the city about one hundred kilometres or so. I  can't get out there as much as I'd like but the house is in good  condition and there's a full-time housekeeper and manager.

'It'll be a perfect place for you to bring the child up,' he continued.  'I'll pay all the household expenses and give you an allowance as well  so you don't have to worry about working.'

A freezing dump of despair oozed over her and it was seconds before she could convince her jaw to thaw enough to let her speak.

'You'd set me up in a house of yours?'

He shrugged. 'It's the best option for both of us. I'll visit on weekends when I can get away.'

'And what of my mother? Who would look after her? No, Damien. There's no way.'

'She can come too. There's plenty of room. You can all be together.'

'Thanks so much for your kind offer, but I'm sorry, I'm not actually in the market for a new home. Maybe some other time … '

She pushed past him, trying to reach the bathroom and find a place where  she could breathe again, a place where she could think, but he grabbed  her arm, wheeling her around.

'Listen to me. I'm offering this child a home, security. I'll arrange  the best doctors for your mother, the best paediatricians for the baby.  The child will have everything it needs.' His fingers tightened on her  arm. 'What are you waiting for-a better offer?'

'Lovely to know you're so concerned about this child. And what will my role be in this arrangement?'

'You'll bring up the child. I take it that's what you expect to do? And  you won't have to do housework or the cooking and cleaning or worry  about a day job. I'll even get private nursing for your mother, and on  top of everything I'll pay you for the privilege. So maybe you could try  to be a bit more grateful.'

'Grateful! And let me guess-will I also be expected to share your bed  whenever you feel the urge? Is that how you expect me to show how  grateful I am? Am I expected to extend my gratitude to you on my back?'

She wrenched her arm but his grip merely tightened, locked on, his  fingers like steel manacles. She suppressed a gasp as his fingers bit  into her flesh. He might be stronger than she was, but still she wasn't  going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was hurting her.

He drew her closer, so close that she could see the white-hot fury in  his eyes, feel his heated breath on her cheek. One side of his lips  kicked up in a smile that went no further. 'You didn't seem to have a  problem with being flat on your back ten minutes ago. Or have you  forgotten already how good I made you feel, how you bucked under me  until I blew your world apart?'                       
       
           



       

Her pulse hammered, her temple throbbed, as her heart cranked up the  pressure through her veins as his dark eyes locked on hers. She could  never forget how he made her feel, not in this life.

'Have you forgotten already how you begged me to take you?' His free  hand cupped her breast. Her shocked intake of breath was fast and  tremulous as he massaged the tender flesh, her nipple firming and  reaching out into his palm.

He closed the gap between them, pushing himself against her. She felt  his arousal with shock and awe, excitement building in her own deep  places.

'Are you seriously telling me you wouldn't like to make love with me again?'

His hand left her breast and dipped down her back, pressing her into his  hardness. 'Are you seriously trying to tell me you don't want me  again?'

His words were seductive, hypnotising her, a mantra for her soul. His  touch was persuasive, compulsive, like a mantra for her body.

He dropped a hand into her still open zipper, slipping his hand down  until his warm fingers cupped the flesh of one cheek, squeezing,  massaging, his fingers exploring more …

'There's no denying it, you realise that. You want me just as much as I want you.'

'Damien,' she half-pleaded, sensation blotting out rational thought once  more, nerve-endings screaming for release. It was true. She could no  more deny wanting him than she could deny the sun a place in the sky.  But that didn't mean he could buy her like just one more part of his  business.

'See,' he said, a tone of victory injected into his voice. 'There's no way you can deny me. Not now.'

'Damien,' she said, stronger this time, his arrogance fuelling her determination to fight back. 'I won't be your mistress.'

'You don't mean that,' he said. 'Let me show you what you really want.'  His mouth dipped lower as if intending to claim hers but it never made  its mark. Summoning strength she didn't know she possessed, she pushed  and twisted at the same time, swivelling out of his arms and swaying  across the room until dozens of cubic metres of super-charged air  swirled between them.

'Believe me, Damien. I won't be your mistress. I won't be anyone's mistress. Have you no idea what an insult that is?'

'Then what were you expecting? Marriage? Is that what you were hoping for? A white picket fence and a fairy-tale ending?'

She schooled her face blank, her chest heaving, not trusting her voice  to hold steady if she uttered a word. Of course it sounded ridiculous  when he put it like that. But what was wrong with wanting things to be  right, wanting to bring up a child in a proper family? What was wrong  with hoping love might have something to do with it?

But there was no way she'd tell Damien that.

'Don't be ridiculous,' she said, only when she was sure her voice  wouldn't betray her. 'I told you, I don't want anything from you.'

Still, his eyes narrowed, focusing on something in her face. 'Ah, but that's what you were hoping for, wasn't it?'

His words cut uncomfortably close to the truth. Why had she had to go  and fall in love with him? It had been so much easier in the beginning,  before she'd seen beyond the arrogant businessman behind whom Damien  existed, before she'd felt his lovemaking and experienced the sheer  magic of his touch.

Until then she'd been happy to think about a life with her child-Damien  didn't even have to figure. But she did love him. And now she couldn't  imagine life with his child without him.

Her chin kicked up. 'You must really fancy yourself. I told you and I mean it. I don't want anything from you.'

He watched her for a few seconds more, cold emotion drizzling down over  them. 'So be it. Because I don't do family. It's not going to happen.'

He walked to the slatted timber bifold doors separating the bedroom from  the rest of the apartment. 'I'm going back to work. Let yourself out  when you're ready.'

'I'll be down shortly,' she said, knowing it would take her a good ten  minutes to get herself back together enough to appear in public.

'Don't bother,' he said. 'Go home.'

And then he was gone.





CHAPTER NINE





'HOW is she?' asked Enid on his return.

'Gone home,' he snapped back, 'and if she's got any sense, she'll stay there.'

Enid's eyes narrowed speculatively, her lips tight and puckered. 'I see.'