Maria’s head had snapped around with a searching expression. Are you this time, caro? Confident?
Paolo’s guts had turned to water. He hadn’t answered as indecision sat like a knot in his belly. He was aware of a growing desire that the baby be his. It scared him how badly he wanted that. Watching Lauren play board games with the children and take every opportunity to hold his cousin’s new baby had impressed on him that she was not only a woman who wanted to be a mother, but would take to the role naturally. The baby she carried was lucky and if the baby was his, he was lucky to have such a woman as mother to his offspring. Fear ate at him that he’d wind up devastated again while something deeper and fiercer demanded he claim her as his regardless.
Maria’s watchfulness as he had processed all his emotions had been unbearable, reminding him she’d seen not just his humiliation of being cheated on in the past, but his heartache at losing out on being a father. He loathed bearing pity from his family. He was their rock, not the other way around.
It doesn’t matter whose it is, he’d claimed to her. She’s the wife of my friend and needs a husband. It had sounded a little too chivalrous even to him.
Maria had cautioned him not to act too hastily and he’d walked out on her accusing him of behaving impetuously out of grief.
That’s not what this was. His feelings toward Ryan had become very contradictory. He harbored a lot of anger toward Ryan for the way he’d treated Lauren and, yes, Paolo couldn’t help turning some of that responsibility on himself, but there was more to it. Ancient instincts of familial protectiveness were clamoring in him. He wanted Lauren in his cave, well buffered from predators or falls or starvation. He wanted her cub under his guardianship. It truly didn’t matter to him whether the baby’s DNA contained his so long as he could keep both of them.
He took a moment to absorb how comfortable he was with the notion of accepting another man’s child. Because he knew it was unlikely he’d do so?
He worked his hands to dissipate the sweat that rose on his palms, disturbed by the path his mind was taking without any hard evidence. But it was tough to doubt Lauren when she was so lousy at subterfuge. More than a few lips had curled with conjecture when Lauren had declined wine, claiming, Paolo said I could drive the Lambo if I stayed sober.
He’d called her a dreamer and they’d shared a sparkling moment of rapport as she grinned cheekily at him. Her amusing remark had been a decent attempt at throwing people off the scent, but he couldn’t escape the fact that since New York, she’d been speaking her mind very frankly to him.
He watched her balance against the sofa to remove her shoes and felt like he was the one who needed to brace himself as his view of Lauren tilted and realigned. She was careful about showing her feelings because she was sensitive, not manipulative. She put ailing old ladies and the reputation of an unfaithful husband ahead of her own needs. She did what felt right, not what was easy. Telling him about the baby hadn’t been necessary. She could have left him to ride out the smudge on his reputation while rearing the baby alone. She had enough money—not his kind of money, but enough. She didn’t need him or any man.#p#分页标题#e#
What if she’d chosen not to contact him? A frisson of fear took him in a delicate grip and squeezed.
“Do you mind if I go straight to bed?” Lauren covered a yawn then spoke from behind her hand when she noticed Paolo staring at her as though he’d never seen her before. “Is everything all right?”
“Your bag should be down here.” He shuddered slightly, as though pulling himself back from somewhere unpleasant.
Perhaps the day had been long for him, as well. He seemed pale and strained. In shock almost. Disturbed, Lauren chattered mindlessly as she followed him. “Dinners with my family are like a court proceeding. Growing up I always envied people like you. All I wanted was to be part of a family who loved each other like that.”
He pressed open a door. “Now you can have it,” he said with quiet but thunderous impact.
Lauren paused in the doorway, all but blind to the luxury of the guest suite and its decor of terra-cotta reds and mustard yellows. He had no idea how much she longed to be part of his family.
To hide her yearning, she wrinkled her nose and grinned at him with forced lightness. “Afraid the good looks, money and power aren’t enough? You’re throwing in your uncle’s stories and your mother’s ravioli? I never eat like that.” She patted her middle as she moved into the room. “Where do you put it?”