He loved her.
Now Scarlett shaped her lips silently into the words, tasting their sweetness again and again.
Creeping out of bed quietly, so as not to wake him, she wrapped her body in a white robe and went to the en suite nursery, where she lovingly swept their two-month-old baby into her arms. Cuddling him in the nearby glider, she fed him and rocked him back to sleep in the darkness. Once he was full and drowsy, she tucked him back in his crib.
Straightening, she looked out the window at the dark frosty dawn breaking over Rome.
She'd never been so happy. She didn't know what she'd done to deserve such happiness. Her heart was almost breaking with joy. Padding back on the soft rugs over the hardwood floor, she returned to the master bedroom, into the enormous bed that she shared with her husband. Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against his naked back and fell asleep.
A noise woke her.
Opening her eyes, Scarlett saw by the golden light filtering through the shades that it was midmorning. She blinked dreamily, smiling. "Merry Christmas." Then she blinked. Her eyes focused on Vin across the bedroom. "What are you doing?"
"Packing," he said tersely, tossing more clothes into the open suitcase. He was already dressed, in black tailored trousers, white shirt, a black vest and red tie. His dark hair was wet from the shower.
"Yes, I see that, but packing for what?"
Vin stopped, looking at her. His dark eyes were cold, and the gorgeous mouth that had kissed her into such uncontrollable spirals of pleasure just hours before was now pressed into a severe line. "I'm leaving on a business trip."
"When?"
"Immediately."
"What?" She sat up straight in bed. "But your parents are expecting us to drive up to Tuscany with the baby-"
"Impossible," he said flatly. "I just learned Salvatore Calabrese is in Tokyo to make a deal with another company. It's my last chance to make him sell to me instead."
"But you can't leave!" Scarlett struggled to calm her voice. She sounded like a whiny child, even to her own ears. "It's Christmas Day!"
He turned on her fiercely. "What do you expect me to do, Scarlett?" His tone was scathing. "Sacrifice my company, our son's future, just to stay here and play happy family with you over the holidays?"
Yes, that was exactly what she expected. She drew back, hurt and bewildered.
Vin stared at her for a long moment. Then he turned away to pack. "I'm not sure how long negotiations might last. It could be days. Even weeks."
"You might be gone through New Year's?"
"You'll be busy anyway. Packing for you and the baby."
"Packing for what?"
"We're moving to New York."
Scarlett's jaw dropped. Was she dreaming? She stared at her husband in the bedroom she'd personally decorated, in the villa that, after all her devoted work, felt like home. "What are you talking about? We live here! In Rome!"
"And once we're back in New York," he continued relentlessly, "I want the baby to have another paternity test."
Scarlett sucked in her breath, feeling like he'd just punched the air out of her, falling back against the pillows. "Why would you ask that?"
He shrugged. "I want to be sure."
"Why?" Scarlett, who was not a violent woman, barely contained the impulse to leap out of bed and slap his face. "How many tests do you need? How many men do you think I've slept with? How big of a liar do you think I am?"
"It is a reasonable request. I've been lied to before."
"Not by me!"
"By others," he conceded, then glared at her. "I do not appreciate you taking this hostile tone."
"Hostile! You haven't begun to see me hostile!" Rising from the bed, she stomped across the bedroom and snatched up her white fluffy robe. Tying the belt around her, she ground out, "Nico is two months old, we've been married since October and you're suddenly wondering if he's your son?"
"Scarlett-"
"Go to hell!"
He grabbed her hands. "Stop it."
"I won't." Her breath came in angry gasps as she looked up at him with flashing eyes. "Last night you said you loved me, but now it's like you're suddenly trying to make me hate you. Why, Vin? Why?"
His hands tightened. His gaze fell to her lips, to the quick rise and fall of her breasts. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. That he'd tell her what was really going on. That everything would be all right.
Instead, he abruptly let her go. "I expect you to be settled in my penthouse in New York by the time I'm done in Tokyo."
"Do you?" she retorted. "Let me guess. You already have a Manhattan doctor on standby to give Nico a few more paternity tests." She was shaking with emotion. "I'd almost think you want proof you're not his father!"
"That's not true, and you know it," he bit out. "I chased around the world to find you and my son. My intentions should be clear. I want you both in New York. We are a family." His voice was impersonal, chilly. "Furthermore, you will make sure Larson is always with you and the baby when you leave this house. I mean it, Scarlett."
"I told you, I'm fed up with having a stupid bodyguard! This is Rome! Who do you think will attack us?"
"I was attacked once in midtown Manhattan. In the middle of the day."
She exhaled. "What?"
"I was seventeen, an easy target, and the guy wanted my wallet. For twenty bucks, he sent me to the hospital." He looked at her. "When I got out, I learned how to fight. When I became a millionaire, I also hired bodyguards." His jaw was tight. "I protect what is mine, Scarlett. That now includes you and my son."
"I'm sorry about what happened to you, but that was a long time ago, and Rome is very safe..."
"I'm leaving one of the private jets for you," he continued implacably. "I expect you and Nico to be en route to New York by the end of the week."
"We're not flying anywhere!"
"Scarlett." He ground his teeth. "I own an airline. You need to get over it!"
Get over it?! She was quivering with rage but kept her voice calm. "No, thank you. Neither I nor my child will be getting on one of those flying death traps again."
"So let me get this straight," he ground out. "You believe the airline I've built into a multibillion-dollar business to be made entirely of flying death traps. You refuse to live in New York. And you intend to flout my wishes by evading the bodyguard I've hired for you, leaving both you and Nico continually at risk."
"That's pretty much it, yes."
"You have so little respect for my judgment? For my leadership?"
"Why should I listen to you, when you've made it clear you aren't listening to me?" Her arms, which had been folded angrily, fell to her sides. "I don't want to leave Rome," she whispered. "I'm learning Italian. I've made friends. Your parents live just a few hours away. Your sister's getting married here next month!"
"We can order flowers sent from New York."
"You can't be serious. She's your sister!"
"What did you think, Scarlett? That we'd live here forever?"
That was exactly what she'd thought. She'd been happy and she'd thought it would last forever. She whispered over the lump in her throat, "It's our home."
"Home?" Looking around the luxurious, comfortable bedroom, he gave an incredulous laugh. "This place isn't my home. It was my home, when I was a miserable child at the mercy of adults. But now, thank God, it's not." He closed his suitcase firmly. "My company is based in New York."
"I have no good memories there. None."
"You must have friends in the city."
"Blaise Falkner?"
"He's no longer in New York." His lips pressed together. "My head of security recently informed me that without money or a place to live, he's fled like the rat he is." He paused, and she got the feeling there was more he wasn't telling her. He finished, "So you have nothing to worry about."
"I know I don't. Because I'm not living there."
A knock on the bedroom door interrupted them. An unhappy-looking bodyguard appeared to collect Vin's suitcase. Scarlett whirled angrily on her husband.
"You're making Beppe work today? He was going to propose to his girlfriend!" She looked at the man miserably. "I'm sorry."
"Va bene, signora," he muttered.
Ignoring him, Vin glared at her. "I grow weary of your constant criticism."
"Oh, I see. I should just tremble and obey?"
"You're twisting my words."
"What am I, if not your partner? Am I your housekeeper? Your nanny?" Her cheeks burned. "Or just your whore?"
She had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen. Then they narrowed. "You're my wife. The mother of my child."