The Marriage He Must Keep(27)

Alessandro came back to the quiet formality of his office in his mother’s house and the patter of afternoon rain outside. He set a hand on the window, then his forehead, letting the cold of the pane penetrate, trying to take his hot blood down a few degrees.

He and Octavia were so damned attuned when they were having sex. It had only grown better from that first time and he was hard as a diamond just thinking about it. He wanted to cross the hall and slide into the bed where she was napping, and remind her exactly how well matched they were.

But seduction was off his playlist.

Wait. Was it? He ran a hand down his face, trying to pull himself together, thinking he didn’t have to make love to her, just let her know he wanted to. Surely that would begin to reassure her?

A distant squawk told him his wife might not be awake, but his son was. He took custody of Lorenzo from the nanny, spending his first hour alone with the boy, fully taking in that he was a father now. That brought up memories of his own father and, if he had been looking for something to cool his ardor and shake him back to his priorities, there it was. He was glad of the privacy of his office as he dealt with the wrench of emotion.

Lorenzo was such an innocent. So perfectly unmarred by life. Alessandro enclosed the tiny boy in a protective cage against his chest, thinking how cavalier he’d been in producing this new life only so Lorenzo could struggle to hang on to it. This world was a harsh place. When he’d been making love to his wife, he hadn’t taken in that he was increasing a thousandfold the level of responsibility he had carried since he was twelve years old. But now he had this small boy to guide and guard into manhood. Did Octavia really believe he would allow his child to grow up anywhere but under his own nose?

The magnitude of how completely his life had changed hit him. His cousin, the man he’d relied on, was gone. His wife wanted to leave him. He’d been given a son.

His entire path forward had to be reassessed, but he wouldn’t move down it alone. Octavia was coming with him. That much he knew.



Octavia woke and went directly to her son, but he wasn’t in his nursery. Ysabelle might have him downstairs, she supposed, but the door to the master suite was closed and...

She glanced at the door at the end of the hall. It was the office Alessandro used when he was here. He’d been in Paris all week, despite his assurance days ago that he was here now. The door to his office was almost always closed whether he was in there or not, but a sixth sense had her going to it and knocking.

“Alessandro?” She poked her head in.

He stood at his desk and looked up from reading something on his laptop screen, his expression of concentration clearing to distracted welcome. He was impeccable if casual with his jacket and tie gone, two buttons open and a baby in his crooked arm.

“You’re up.”

“You’re home.”

Apparently they were stating the obvious.

She suddenly realized her shirt collar was turned under, her hair loose and uncombed and her eyes still puffy with sleep. “I didn’t know where he was. Is he hungry?”

“He hasn’t said so,” he said dryly, glancing at the blinking infant before inviting her in with a wave. He met her halfway into the room and let her take the baby. With a light touch against the side of her head, he held her for a brief but firm kiss, then moved past her to close the door. “How are you feeling?” he asked as he turned back to her.

“Good,” she murmured, disconcerted by the faint taste of coffee now on her lips. “You’re starting him rather early for taking charge, aren’t you?”

“One more reason to raise him in Naples,” he commented with quiet significance.

She looked away, but her gaze snagged on the oil painting by his aunt that hung behind his desk. It was the view from the veranda of the Castello di Ferrante onto the hills of the vineyard surrounding the ancestral estate.

“It’s his heritage,” Alessandro added, noting where she was looking.

As he said it, she heard the truth of it. She squirmed inwardly, but realized he had her. No matter what she thought best for herself, she couldn’t deny Lorenzo his birthright. Did Alessandro feel guilty at all using their son to manipulate her? If he did, there was not one iota of remorse in his expression.

“My grandfather used to tell me that being CEO of the family company is a caretaker’s position. I thought I understood what he meant, but I didn’t. Not until I brought my son in here today. I’m not just supporting the family, but building his future. You won’t deny it to him, will you?”

Octavia let her gaze flicker around the room. The place was in disarray. Alessandro was obviously still trying to bring order after firing Primo. He’d left file cabinet drawers open and papers spilled onto every surface. An assortment of flash drives and backup tapes littered a side table and an old laptop had been revived on the coffee table. The desk was peppered with his own laptop and tablet and phone. One of Lorenzo’s new stuffed bears sat crookedly in the big black executive chair like a tiny drunken CEO.