A Deal To Carry The Italian's Heir (The Scandalous Brunetti Brothers Book 2)

by Tara Pammi

  Every free moment of the last two weeks had been spent replaying that scene between her and Leo in his bedroom. She’d fantasized in the most wicked detail what it would have been like if she’d taken his mouth for a kiss she’d wanted for so long. If she’d asked him to conceive their child by making love to her...

  Her cheeks heated. Would he have taken her up on that offer, too? Did he feel this awareness that seemed to hum through her when he was near?

  But she was also painfully aware that it was time to bury what had been her heart’s desire for so long that it was a part of her.

  They could never be lovers now, not with their lives entangled around an innocent life. Not an easy decision but done.

  As the horizon shone brilliantly in the evening sky, for the first time in years she was hopeful for the future. With Leo by her side, she could finally build the life she wanted. And her baby would have everything she had known once—a doting mother, a caring father, a loving family.

  * * *

  “She’s refusing to join us?” Massimo asked as Leo walked into the lounge, having spent more than an hour with Greta, who was acting like a petulant teenager instead of the Brunetti matriarch celebrating her eightieth birthday with Milan’s upper crest due to appear in less than an hour to honor her.

  Leo took the tumbler of whiskey Massimo offered with a grateful nod and downed it. He sighed. “She’s not just acting out this time. She’s really upset that Alex is not here.”

  “It’s not like Alex to disappear like this without a word to any of us, for months at a time.”

  Leo agreed. While their grandmother’s stepdaughter, Alex—Alessandra Giovanni, one of the top supermodels in the world—had family in the US and regularly disappeared from Milan for months at a time for her shoots, on a given day, they’d always known where she would be. More importantly, Alex never went more than a few weeks without dropping by to visit with Greta.

  But this time, even Alex’s mother had no idea of her daughter’s whereabouts.

  Greta, having lived through the path of destruction her son had blazed through her life, had never been soft or loving with Leo or Massimo. But she had stood guard over her grandsons, helped them overthrow her own son when it had been clear Silvio would destroy BFI.

  Only with her second husband, Carlo, whom she’d lost after a precious few years, and his daughter, Alessandra, had a different side emerged of Greta.

  He knew Alex felt that same love toward Greta, knew she felt like she belonged here with Massimo and him, more than she did with her mother’s family. So why disappear like this? Where was she?

  He was about to suggest they reach out to Alex’s agent when Neha walked into the lounge.

  Looking absolutely ravishing in a fetching pink creation that left her shoulders bare, kissed every curve like he wanted to, molded to the swell of her hips. And yet, somehow, she managed to look elegant and stunning, too. Her hair in an updo showcased the beauty of her high cheeks and strong brows. Mouth glistening a light pink, she reminded Leo of a ripe, tart strawberry. A strawberry that he wanted to bite.

  She took one look at them and stilled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on you two. I can come back.”

  There was a hint of shimmer on her neck and the valley of her cleavage when she stood under the crystal chandelier, beckoning a man’s touch. Leo could no more stop watching her than he could stop breathing. Dio, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this mesmerized by a woman. Maybe never. “Of course you’re not intruding,” he said.

  Maybe a little too sharply, because her gaze jerked up to his.

  He cleared his throat and went to pour another drink. He needed the extra fortification if he had to spend the rest of the evening with her—looking but not touching, enveloped by the warmth of her, pretending to be a couple in front of the world. But not doing all the things he wanted to do to her.

  “I’ll talk to Greta,” Massimo said.

  His younger brother had that mischievous smile that Leo had rarely seen growing up. Massimo stopped in front of Neha, put his hands on her bare shoulders and pulled her to him. An indulgent smile on those pink lips, Neha let him embrace her and then kiss her cheeks. Which he did with quite a relish.

  Stepping back, Massimo smiled. “You look utterly enchanting, bella mia. If only you’d reciprocated my interest in you, we’d have been something. But alas, I remember you rebuffed me, of course without breaking my heart.”

  Neha laughed. And the sound of it snuck into Leo’s every pore. “Per favore, Massimo. Stop flirting with me, you wretched man, and go find your wife.”

  “Sì,” the rogue said with a smile, then bowed elaborately, which made her laugh harder.

  That thick silence descended on them again, ripe with tension.

  “Are you scowling because he was flirting with me?” Neha said, keeping her distance. As if he was dangerous.

  “Massimo has eyes for no one but Natalie. That whole thing was for my benefit.”

  “Your benefit?” she said, her eyes growing wide in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  Leo shrugged. He wasn’t going to explain that his brother thought it was hilarious how attracted Leo was to her. Especially when he was determined to not do anything about it.

  “You want a drink before the hordes descend on us?” he finally managed in a polite voice.

  “Just some sparkling water, please,” she replied.

  Leo opened a bottle of sparkling water and offered it to her.

  She took the glass from his hands, somehow managing to make sure their fingers didn’t touch. “You didn’t tell me how I look,” she said in a soft, quiet voice characteristic of her. Not petulant, not demanding, just a simple, rational question. Maybe he could handle this better, then.

  He let his gaze rove over her again. “I didn’t think you were the type who needed compliments or a boost in confidence.”

  Irritation he’d never seen before flashed across her face. “There are two things wrong about that.”

  “Two?” He raised a brow, liking that he was getting under her skin. “Explain, please.”

  “First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who wouldn’t welcome a compliment from a gentleman friend. No matter how gorgeous or successful she is.”

  “Touché,” he said, raising his glass to her. “‘Gentleman friend’ has such...an old-world ring to it, bella? Is that where we’re settling for?”

  “Define this—” she moved her arm gracefully in the distance between them, distance she seemed determined to maintain “—any other way you want.”

  “And my second offense?” he taunted back.

  “This is uncharted territory for me. So yes, I’d like to know what you were thinking for a change, instead of having to guess what your expression means.”

  “What is uncharted territory?”

  “Playing your piece in front of the entire world.”

  Something in her tone snagged at him. But for the life of him, he couldn’t put his finger on it. It felt like all the safe, neutral ground they’d carefully trod for so many years had disappeared, leaving them in a minefield. Filled with sexual tension and something else.

  Were they foolishly, knowingly mucking up a relationship they’d built?

  “Why is this so hard, Leo?” she said softly, a beseeching look in her eyes that shamed him instantly. Dio, did the woman have any idea how beguiling she looked like that? How much he wanted to remove any and every problem if it meant she’d smile at him like she did with Massimo?

  He was man enough to admit that it was his fault. He’d purposely held back the words that had risen to his lips when she’d walked in. Made it awkward by behaving like a randy, churlish youth who had been denied the one thing he’d wanted the most.

  He finished his drink and went to stand in front of her. Tucking his finger und
er her chin, he raised her face. His heart thudded as she met his gaze, his match in every way. “You’re the most beautiful, poised, smart, courageous woman I’ve ever known in my life.”

  She laughed, swatted at his shoulder with her hand and stepped away. Leo buried the pulse of irritation at her need to put distance between them. “Are there any adjectives left?”

  “You don’t think I’m serious?”

  “It doesn’t matter, really.” A tightness to her words. “I think I’ve indulged myself enough for one evening,” she half muttered to herself. When she looked at him again, there was nothing but that serenity, that composure, he’d known for so long. “Natalie told me it was you who’d arranged such a lovely day for us. Going as far as to hound her into accompanying me.

  “Just as you’d told me that she needed my help in picking a dress for tonight.”

  “She’s got terrible fashion sense. You, on the other hand, never look less than stunning.”

  She laughed, and he basked in it. “You manipulated us both.”

  “I saw two hardworking, stubborn women who needed a break.”

  “It was exactly what I’d needed, and I didn’t even know it. So, thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure. When I arrived last night, you looked like you were ready to drop.” He’d been alarmed by how dull she’d looked with dark shadows under her eyes again. “Haven’t you been sleeping well?”

  She tucked a wisp of hair that wasn’t in the way, and he knew she was going to lie. “I was fine. I just had a brutal week.”

  “Did Mario say anything about my visits?”

  “We had a few meetings scheduled but he... Damn it, I’m nervous. About this whole evening.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “I just... I wish we hadn’t decided to make this whole thing public today. Although that’s probably just me wanting to delay the inevitable.” She laughed at herself, turning the glass in her hand around and around. “Now you think I’m a little cuckoo.”

  “No. But I’m definitely beginning to believe that saying you’re stressed is an understatement. Are you having second thoughts about this whole thing?” He carefully controlled his voice, loath to betray the pang in his chest that she might have changed her mind.

  This had to be about her, always.

  “Of course not!” Her chest rose and fell, the thin chain at her neck glinting under the light of the chandelier. “Not at all.” When he just stared at her, she sighed. “If you must know, I mostly avoided Mario this past week. I stayed at my flat the whole week, which I never do because I like to see Mum at least every other day—running away when I knew he might be looking for me, canceling on a one-on-one lunch saying I had a checkup, that sort of thing.”

  Anger flared in Leo’s gut. He took her hand and was startled to feel her long fingers tremble. “Neha, are you scared of him? Has he caused you physical harm?”

  “God, no. I’d like to think if he’d ever raised his hand to me, at least then my...” She cringed and snatched her hand back. And he wondered at how much she kept to herself, how little she showed of her true feelings. “If he had, I’d have knocked him down in return,” she said fiercely. “Mario thinks too much of himself to stoop to what he’d call vulgar behavior. His tactics are more...insidious. I didn’t tell you this, but I had an argument with him before I came to see you about this new book deal we’re signing and it just blew up.

  “I’m sure he thought I ran to you to complain about it. After leaving it like that, you showing up at work in the last week and me avoiding him, he’ll be bursting to have a go at me.”

  “Then why avoid him? Why not face him today when I’m here, too?”

  “It’s just that...every time he and I get into it, it’s Mum who suffers. It’s Papa’s birthday next week and she’s always extra fragile on that day.

  “Usually she and I spend the day together, donate a week’s worth of meals at this shelter Papa used to volunteer at...help out the whole day. And then we have dinner with a lot of his friends and family, just remembering him. I prep for it for days, take the entire day off, and it almost feels like...she and I never drifted apart.” The wistfulness in her eyes tugged at him before she blinked it away. “If I have a massive row with Mario now, it’ll bleed through to her. She’ll worry that the both of us are fighting and I don’t want to make Papa’s birthday extra hard for her.”

  Leo voiced the question that came to him instantly, his tone a little bit sharp. “And in all this, who looks after you? Even I know that you still miss your papa.”

  She frowned. “I look after myself. My mother has always been emotionally delicate—I don’t think she ever recovered from Papa’s death, and yes, sometimes I wish...” Guilt shone in her eyes before she sighed. She fiddled with a ring she wore on her right hand. “I don’t like talking about all this with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I feel guilty for talking about her. And I definitely don’t want to lose your respect. I know you abhor emotional drama of this sort.”

  “Because you have a complex relationship with your mother?” he said, swallowing away the stinging words he wanted to use. Like toxic and harmful and soul-sucking.

  “I think you have made a lot of extrapolations from whatever the media reports about my relationships with women.” For some reason he couldn’t fathom, every time Neha made even a fairly reasonable assumption about him, it riled him. He wanted to be...the perfect man in her eyes.

  Cristo! Where was this coming from?

  “What did you think raising a child together was going to entail? Whether we like it or not, whether we want or not, our families and our history are going to feature in our child’s life.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you?” she said, searching his gaze.

  “I forgot extremely stubborn in the list of adjectives earlier,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Believe me, bella. We’re in this together. There’s nothing you need to hide from me.

  “In the meantime, I’m more than happy to play your hero.”

  She rolled her eyes and laughed. “I don’t need a hero, Leo. I just want you to pretend to be one.” Her fingers dusted at some imaginary speck on his jacket and his heart thundered under the casual touch. Her gaze ate him up. “But yeah, I’m glad you’re on my side.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TWO AND A HALF hours into the party, Neha was glad she’d let Leo convince her to stick to his side.

  There was a power high in being the woman that Leonardo Brunetti couldn’t keep his hands off. Oh, she knew that all the long, lingering looks and touches—she loved the feel of his palm against her lower back—were for the benefit of the couple of journalists he’d told her were present through the crowd.

  It was about making a public statement without actually standing in front of a high-focus lens and admitting that yes, after years of platonic relationship, they were taking their relationship to the next level. But she couldn’t stop herself from enjoying the thrill of the moment.

  The warm, male scent of him was both familiar and exciting. Every time he wrapped his arm around her waist, or squeezed her shoulders, or pulled her to his side, she felt a little tingle pulse up her spine, filling her veins with electric charge.

  She loved hearing her name on his lips as he introduced her around to the extended Brunetti family, to the powerful board members of BFI. Clung to his every word, loved the secretive smile he sent her way when someone commented that the most untouchable bachelor had been finally caught.

  But it wasn’t just the electricity arcing between them.

  There was a sense of strength in his mere presence at her side. She’d been self-sufficient, emotionally and mentally, for so long that to have him at her back felt like a luxury. An echo of a need that had gone unanswered. She had someone in her corner finally to face Mario.

  Even the sight
of Mario’s scowl when his gaze landed on Leo’s arm around her waist, the way his sharp gaze followed them around, couldn’t dilute her enjoyment of the party.

  The entire grounds around the villa had been lit up until it was reflected on the waters of the lake. Pristine white marquees caught the overflow of guests from the villa. Cream-colored circular lanterns hung from the ceilings while beautiful white lilies made up exquisite centerpieces on round tables. Strategic ground lights added nightly splendor to Leo’s gardens. With the backdrop of Lake Como’s lights, the estate glittered.

  The only strange thing was Silvio Brunetti’s conspicuous absence from the celebrations, and Alessandra’s, too, who was close to Greta, even more than her own grandsons.

  A small dais had been raised at the center of the marquee where the matriarch, Greta, came onto the dais and delivered a speech in Italian that was too fast for her to follow. She invited her family to join her. Neha sat stunned when Leo walked up to her and reached out a hand to her.

  For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, she could feel every single gaze trained on her, the silence deafening. Yes, they were putting on a show for a variety of reasons. Neha had never expected to be counted as one of the Brunetti family.

  But even her hesitation hadn’t thrown off the resolute look in Leo’s eyes. Bending down from his great height, the broad sweep of his shoulders cutting off the entire world, his gorgeous, rugged face filled her vision. The focus of that gaze—all on her—was addictive. “I thought I had made this clear between us. Whatever happens in the future, or doesn’t happen—” a twinkle appeared in his eyes “—my child, and therefore you, will always be a part of this family.”

  “You don’t understand,” she’d whispered, putting her slim hand in his huge one. Shivering at the abrasive slide of his palm. “They’ll think it a declaration neither of us intends.”

  “I do not give a damn, as you say, bella.”

  After that, she hadn’t even cared how Mario was taking the whole thing.