Baby By Accident(35)

“Life is not fair.” He stood straight, forcing her, damn him, to step back before her breasts brushed his chest. His mouth twisted at her retreat and with a bold look, he followed her step with one of his own.

“Stop.” She tried to jump back, but his hands landed on her arms and held her close to his warmth, his body.

“Why do you wear this thing?” With one flick of his fingers, he unclasped the clip in her hair, causing the strands to fall to her shoulders and into her face. “It makes you appear forty years old.”

The words hurt. And the dismissive tone. And the insult.

“It’s none of your business how I wear my hair.” She scowled at him. “Give the clip back.”

The ends of his mouth quirked in clear amusement. “No.”

She suddenly realized how close they were. His scent, the distinctive, almond silky scent, enfolded her. His hands were large, strong. They held her tightly, yet with a gentle grip, and the heat of his skin on hers warmed her down to her toes. She stared at him, in a daze, abruptly aware of how near his mouth was. His lower lip was lush, his upper lip thin. It was wide, his mouth, and the memory, all the memories came; of his smile, the way his white teeth flashed in contrast to his olive skin. His lips came near her, closer, and her eyes started to close…

Was she crazy?

“Let me go.” She yanked herself back from him and his temptation.

He released her with a flourish. “Scusi.” His voice held a sarcastic edge. “I forgot my manners.”

Without giving her another glance, he walked to his desk with a steady pace and stared at his computer. But Lise could see it was a sham, this calmness. The tension in his neck and shoulders told her.

The realization stunned her and appalled her. When had she come to know him well enough to read his unspoken body signals? She didn’t want to know this man. She didn’t want to understand him and she certainly didn’t want to marry him. Wouldn’t marry him.

“You are a bastard.” She lashed out at him, trying to cut the unwanted link between them she’d suddenly found inside herself. She wanted no links, no connections. No bonds.

“No.” He kept his back to her, staring at the blank screen of his computer. “I am actually not. And my child will not be, either.”

The utter resolve in his statement shook her. Until this point in this ludicrous conversation, she’d believed that somehow he was going through the motions. He didn’t really want to marry. He couldn’t possibly be serious. Perhaps it was some kind of old-fashioned Italian moral code.

This man had no morals.

So perhaps it was a need to claim a legacy. Or start a dynasty.

This man lived in the moment, though. He’d never shown a sense of loyalty or honor or a need to make a lasting contribution.

“I won’t do it.” But she knew the trap was closing. “I won’t marry you.”

He glanced over at her. “You will. You have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” Her heart couldn’t beat any faster. She felt as if she were running, fleeing, yet the hunter moved closer.

“Not in this instance.” His gaze never wavered.

“I can do this on my own.” She kept fighting, kept running. “I don’t need help.”

His bleak smile never reached his eyes. “Lise. Be reasonable. There is no way you can work, pay your bills, take care of a baby—”

“I can—”

“And pay off your mother’s mortgage at the same time.”

The hunter closed, clutched. She fought back, tried to escape. “I’ll sue you for child support.”

He chuckled. The raspy sound of a man assured of his prey. “Then I will sue you for sole custody.”

His words fell like missiles into the very soul of her. They tore through her heart, leaving a burning trail of hopes and dreams. The plans she’d made—of her and her baby together, of how her child would look to her for love and affection, of raising her son or daughter in the way she’d wanted to be raised—he destroyed them with his simple words. His blunt declaration.

“No,” she whispered.

His gaze told her yes.

Her breath burned in her throat. Was she panting? Gasping? What did it matter? She was caught and held. Clearly, he wasn’t going to let go.

“I’ll take my baby.” His mouth firmed. “I’ll keep coming at you with my money and my solicitors until I win. The child will be mine. All mine.”

Her knees wobbled and her hands went cold.

“Unless you marry me.”





Chapter 9





“I do.” Vico Mattare said the two words as if they were everyday words.