Wife By Force(60)

Ha! he thought as he finished his meal.

"I don't believe it."

A chuckle escaped his mamma as she lifted him to her shoulder and patted   between his shoulders. "But it's true, Lucia. He's a boy and built  like  your papa."

"Papa's huge."

"My girls are talking about me?"

Antony cocked his head and stared across the lawn at his father, who was   entering the garden through the stone door. At first, when he'd been   young, he'd focused mainly on his mamma. He recognized her voice, her   touch first. Plus, she was the source of his food. Very important.   Lately, though, this large man had entered his awareness in a very   determined way. His shoulder was not as soft as his mamma's, but for   some reason, he liked to peer over it. It was so much farther off the   ground than his mamma's. And the man's voice was deep and vibrant. The   sound rolled through Antony's brain and made him want to talk.

"How is mio figlio?" Warm, strong hands lifted him up and up. Landing on   the hard shoulder he'd grown to appreciate, he stared down with   superiority at two heads covered with dark curls and four honey eyes   staring at him.

"Don't you dare lift him over your head and bounce him, Dante," his   mamma scolded as she grabbed the blanket he'd been napping on and shook   it out. "I just fed him. I don't want him to spit everything up."

"Spit. Yuck." One of the small dark heads bobbed. "I'm too old to spit."

"Me too." The other head bounced in agreement.

"No son of mine will spit." Antony found himself pulled away from the   shoulder to meet a pair of black eyes. The eyes were filled with pride   and love. The emotions sat very well on him. It was what he deserved.   "My son can bellow to his heart's pleasure, but no spitting."         

     



 

"He bellowed a lot a little while ago, Papa."

"Si." His father grinned down at the girls. "I heard him as I walked down the lane."

"We didn't mean to wake him."

"But we did."

"Because he's cute." His mamma's face came into his view and she kissed him on his cheek.

"Cute?" His father's voice was filled with mock horror. "He is not cute."

"He's still a baby." His mamma kept smiling at him. "He's allowed to be cute."

"Not with my nose."

Antony frowned. What was a nose?

"He does have your big nose, Papa." The little voice was filled with concern.

"What is wrong with my nose?" his father objected.

His mamma's glance swerved away from him and centered on his papa.   "Nothing, Dante." She smiled. "Your nose is exactly right for you. Just   as I am."

"So you are, bella." The deep voice grew rich with love. "So you are."

Antony leaned on the broad shoulder and contemplated taking another nap.





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Thanks for reading Wife By Force. I hope you enjoyed it!

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Check out the rest of the series. There are two other stories within the   Italian trilogy of the International Billionaires series. You can  check  out Mistress By Blackmail and Baby By Accident by clicking on  each  title.



Mistress By Blackmail

A cold-hearted business tycoon. A strong-willed starving artist. A battle for each other's heart both must win.



Baby By Accident

A bad boy. An ice princess. And a secret she won't reveal.





Baby By Accident

International Billionaires III: The Italians

by Caro LaFever

Click here to buy!



When a pirate playboy takes over her family's financial company, Lise   Helton can find nothing to like about the man. Except for the   inconvenient lust she feels every time she's in a room with him. Too bad   she's doomed to be in rooms with him all the time as she's still the   CFO of the company and won't give him the satisfaction of walking away.



Much to Lise's dismay, too bad becomes really bad when she finds herself   in bed with the man experiencing the best sex ever. Now, worse is  about  to happen in nine short months and Lise is confronted with a  determined  Italian ready to be a father. And a husband.



Vico Mattare knows he's wicked and has no problem using the skill to his   advantage. But he's run into a woman who looks down her patrician nose   at him even when he presents her with four-carat diamond. He might not   be worthy, but he's damned if he's going to lose her and his baby.





Excerpt:


She tried to keep up appearances.

Yet it was obvious, there was something wrong.

Vico quickly squashed a zag of concern. It didn't matter to him if she   suffered because her fiancé finally figured her out and dumped her. In   the long run, what man wanted a woman who couldn't be trusted? He hadn't   thought about her stupid engagement when he'd been pounding into her,   but he'd thought about it since.

A dozen times. A million times.

Lise Helton, for all her high-and-mighty ways, was a cheat. The type of   woman he scorned. He held not an iota of concern for the woman. She   deserved everything she got.

The meeting came to a close. The staff stood, gathering their papers,   talking in low tones about their daily tasks. Vico rose from his chair,   snapped his laptop closed and glanced to the end of the room.

She stood. And wobbled. Her hand landed on the table in front of her, propping her up.

Tensing, he forced himself to stay still instead of bounding down the room to her side.

A gleam of sweat on her brow glistened. He'd swear to it.

A sudden realization came to him.

This couldn't be only emotional distress. This had to be something more.

"Ms. Helton," he said. "A moment of your time, per favore."

Her head jerked up, her blonde hair bobbing in soft curls on her   shoulders. The hair wasn't the same, though. Not like his memory of   silky, healthy strands wrapping around his hands as he plunged into her.   Now the strands appeared lackluster and lifeless.         

     



 

Something was wrong. He was sure of it. Something physical.

The beat of his heart sped, then stilled.

"I'm quite busy today." Her words were rushed.

"A mere moment."

Her gaze darted to the door as the last person left the room.

Left them alone. For the first time in seven long weeks. For the first time since they'd lain beside each other naked.

The door thudded shut.

She folded her arms in front of her and straightened into her usual   erect, royal stance. "What is it, Mr. Mattare? Another one of your   schemes?"

A grudging respect pulsed deep in him. A reluctant appreciation for her   stubborn determination to keep fighting him at every turn. Except   strangely, he didn't want to fight back. At least not right now. He   wanted to know what was going on. What was the matter with her. He   wanted to be sure the odd thought that had popped into his head moments   ago was a complete impossibility.

Sticking his hand in his pocket, he jiggled the spare pence. "Are you sick?"

Her eyes widened, her skin turned pale as marble, even paler than   before, and her body went rigid. On the whole, it looked like a breath   of wind could knock her over. His words did more, however.

They scared her.

He stared across the table at her and knew.

Something was seriously wrong.