The Italian's Pregnancy Proposal (Bought For Her Baby Series Book 3)

by Maggie Cox

  ‘You must have gone to charm school from a baby! Compliments just roll off your tongue so easily.’ Suddenly unable to keep the lid on the unhappiness that was seeping into her veins, Bliss turned away, wondering why she felt so hurt and angry. She knew the score. A gorgeous Italian male like Dante di Andrea thought nothing of dispensing such compliments to women, so why was she reacting so foolishly, as if he were stringing her along in some way? He’d only hired her to help his sister with her baby. Now that Tatiana was starting to make a recovery, it was obvious that Bliss wouldn’t be needed any more. So what was there to feel cheated about?

  ‘You do not think I mean what I say when I pay you a compliment?’ He had taken hold of her arm, curling his big bronzed hand around her fragile, slender-boned wrist with something very close to angry possession. Bliss took a mental gulp.

  ‘What does it matter? After tomorrow you’ll never see me again anyway. I think Renny needs her afternoon nap. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and lay her down in her cot.’

  ‘You may forget me, Bliss Maguire. But I will not forget you so easily.’ Before Bliss could think another thought, Dante bent his dark head and claimed furious possession of her lips in an earth-stopping, demanding, bruising kiss that almost made her drop the child in her arms in shock.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘YOU shouldn’t have done that! Why did you?’

  When he released her Bliss thought that her flow of breath might be affected for ever, such was the power and volcanic sensuality of Dante’s kiss. There had been no warning that he might do such a thing and so she hadn’t been a bit prepared to deal with it. Now she was on another planet spinning out of the cosmos because nothing made any earthly sense at all right then, save her deep craving for more of what Dante had to offer. Tingling and aching, her lips were already missing his devastating touch as if, in the instant they had become intimate, they had pledged themselves to him and only him. As Bliss’s emotions swam with feelings and desires that crashed over her like hundred-foot waves her eyes bored into Dante’s and saw that he too appeared deeply affected by what had just transpired between them. He was dragging his fingers agitatedly through the strong, silken strands of his deep black hair, and Bliss noticed his hand was ever so slightly shaking.

  ‘You have to ask?’ he ground out, his voice thick. What could she say? Right now her feelings were in a torrent of confusion and Bliss hardly had an answer that made any sense. Her equilibrium had deserted her. She could still taste the silken glide of his tongue in her mouth and the impression lingered as though it were some carnal opiate, while his disturbing masculine scent was so imbued into her psyche that she knew she would never forget it. Oh, what had he done? Before Dante had kissed her, Bliss might—just might—have been able to walk away and preserve him as a pleasant, unexpected memory, but what was she supposed to do now?

  Renata reached up and touched Bliss’s cheek as if sensing something was amiss and for a moment Bliss willingly got lost in the wondrous radiance of those soft brown eyes.

  ‘You obviously know something I don’t,’ she murmured.

  Dante’s harsh intake of breath amply illustrated a tension and anger she didn’t understand. Wasn’t she the one who should be mad at him? After all, Bliss would have to walk away and pretend that a landslide hadn’t just occurred inside her. While for Dante, no doubt, she was just one more pretty face that he had briefly desired while they were together, but which would be just as swiftly forgotten when she left.

  ‘I do not believe you do not know why I kissed you.’ His mouth twisted slightly with derision and his arresting green eyes suggested the kind of Mediterranean heat that baked pavements in an instant. ‘You are an intelligent woman and I do not believe that you cannot recognise desire when you see it.’

  ‘I recognise it, Dante…but that doesn’t mean I welcome it.’

  Tearing her gaze away from his, Bliss folded Renata more securely in her arms and, fully aware that she was taking the coward’s way out, quickly left the room before he could waylay her.

  Her packing done, Bliss made another brief but thorough scan of the room she had occupied for just two short nights. Her melancholy gaze alighted on the yachts and cruisers that were anchored just outside the window—the sun glinting off their bright paintwork with prismatic brilliance, highlighting a world that was so vastly different from her own that comparisons were ludicrous. This was the élite stratosphere that Dante was a part of, she thought in a mixture of awe and resignation, suddenly struck anew by the contrast. A rare, moneyed sphere inhabited by wealthy entrepreneurs and inherited riches, where people were faced with the kind of choices Bliss could only dream about: which private island to holiday on in winter; what high-profile dress designer to monopolise this spring. And if his sister hadn’t fainted in front of Bliss in the store that day, then her everyday, humdrum little life would not have been turned on its head so completely that she had no idea how to climb back on.

  Now he was going to take her home on his way to the airport to pick up his mother, his mind no doubt focused on her arrival and his own imminent departure back to Italy. What had driven Dante to kiss her so intimately? He had taken possession of her lips as though he would die if he didn’t, making heat scorch along her veins like a riptide. His touch had caused aftershocks so profound that Bliss asked herself if she’d ever really been awake in her life at all up until now. Such was the impact of the desire he had kindled into being.

  ‘Bliss? Are you ready to go?’

  From the other side of the door Dante’s voice made every sense in her body clamour wildly for his attention and a soft, dismayed moan escaped her lips before she could prevent it. Then, securing the catch on her leather bag with trembling fingers, she briefly ran her fingers through her hair, took a final wistful glance at the seductive vision of the boats in the marina, then resolutely went to the door.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she said, her violet gaze deliberately averted as she swept past him into the corridor.

  Carrying her bag up the two short flights of stairs, Dante wrinkled his nose a little with distaste at the sour, stale smell that lingered on the concrete landing along with the profound air of general neglect. He hadn’t expected Bliss to live in the lap of luxury, but it disturbed him deeply that she lived in such a soulless place. She was like a pretty wild flower, he thought, growing amongst the cracks between concrete paving slabs: fragile yet hardy—lending beauty to a landscape that cried out for such relief. He had already deduced that her job probably did not pay very well, and obviously her accommodation choices were limited. But besides that, Dante knew that Bliss’s heart was clearly not in her work at all. Knowing all of this, he had still been vaguely shocked by the stark contrast to his own extremely comfortable circumstances as they’d pulled up outside the run-down block of flats that Bliss had directed him to.

  They’d argued over her means of getting home, Dante finally insisting that he drove her and Bliss reluctantly capitulating, clearly wanting to be rid of his presence as soon as possible so that she could resume her life without him. Only, Dante was nowhere near as sure as Bliss that he wanted to let her. The touch of her sweet lips against his had inflamed him as hotly and as fiercely as a lighted match to a pile of dry straw. It had stirred into life an ardour so great that he honestly didn’t know what to do with all the pent-up energy and simmering need she had left him with. For such a long time he had become used to maintaining an almost detached attitude to the art of lovemaking—going through the motions but always keeping something of himself back. Now, however, Dante was compelled to explore the possibilities that such a violent attraction presented. He would not be true to his passionate, hot-blooded nature if he didn’t…

  ‘Well, that’s that, I suppose.’

  Clearly not intending to invite him in, Bliss opened her front door and turned to regard him, her wary violet gaze hardly able to conceal the fact that she was upset. Did she regret leaving him and his adorable niece? For a long moment the
thought prevented Dante from saying anything. Then warmth stole into his veins initiating feelings that wouldn’t be tamped down—feelings that were currently taking over his body in a most disturbingly sensual and demanding way.

  ‘I want to come in for a moment,’ he said, pushing the door behind her wide. Bliss stared, her gaze transfixed by the disturbingly intense focus of his glittering green eyes and the growing heat she saw swirling in their depths.

  ‘Why?’

  Her voice was a husky rasp, and when Dante’s big hand came to rest on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly before impelling her inside, Bliss hardly knew what to think. Closing the door and feeling a leap of pleasure inside him at the cosy, beautifully decorated hallway with its soft beige carpet and ecru-coloured walls that immediately evoked an atmosphere of calm, Dante expelled the tension-filled breath that had been trapped inside his chest. He realised that it was somehow important for him to know that Bliss had some beauty in her life. The outside of her home might leave much to be desired, but inside she had clearly created a soothing oasis that provided the necessary rest and relaxation for her troubled soul.

  ‘I have to pay you.’

  ‘P-pay me?’ Somehow Bliss found herself backed up against the wall, her glance helplessly captured as she watched Dante deposit her bag on the carpet, then reach into his inside jacket pocket for a long cream vellum envelope. He held it out to her, a sexy hitch at the side of his beautiful mouth, a gesture that made Bliss’s womb worryingly contract into a spasm that was almost painful. ‘For coming to my sister’s rescue and for being a good Samaritan.’

  Bliss suddenly didn’t want to take the money. It seemed wrong somehow. She’d only done what any self-respecting person would have done, hadn’t she? To take payment for helping someone out when they were in a crisis just didn’t sit well with the code of ethics that she lived by. Besides which, she had formed a frighteningly close attachment to little Renata over the past two days and was already missing the little girl too much. In fact, the thought of not having contact with her again had left her with an aching, empty space inside her that she didn’t know how to fill.

  ‘It’s all right, Dante. I don’t need payment. I was happy to help you and your sister. What happened to Tatiana was tragic. I certainly don’t want to profit from it.’

  ‘But we made an agreement, no?’ His dark brows came together like a black thundercloud threatening a previously clement day, and Bliss curled her palms into fists at her side and fervently willed him to go so that she could breathe freely again. Had the hallway of her little flat always been this impossibly narrow? Or was it just the fact that having six feet plus of seriously gorgeous Italian male looming over her with mesmerising green eyes, holding her spellbound, was distorting her sense of perspective out of all proportion?

  ‘You earned this money and I am grateful. Please take it. Tatiana will be offended if you don’t.’

  ‘No, Dante. My mind is made up. Tell Tatiana it was my privilege to help her and little Renny. Her daughter is delightful…just delightful.’ Bliss was suddenly so choked up it was hard for her to speak. Betraying tears pooled in her eyes and in desperation she made to push away from the wall before Dante could transfix her any longer with the captivating power of his presence.

  ‘You are crying…why?’ Cornering her before she could move, he dropped the cream envelope onto the floor. Gently moving his fingers across the brow of her cheekbone to catch her tears, he regarded her gravely as though she was a complete enigma to him.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m acting like this! Please go, Dante, before I make a fool of myself completely.’ She didn’t want his kindness, or his comfort. Didn’t he know it was too much for her to withstand? All Bliss wanted was for him to go. Only, her mind and her body were hardly in agreement about this decision. Not when the mere touch of his fingers across her tear-stained face could stir into being an ache that seemed to emanate from her very soul. The sheer power of that ache was consuming her whole body like a fire tearing through a house made of straw and if he didn’t satiate it soon she might not be able to make sense ever again.

  ‘I do not think you are foolish at all, Bliss. What you are is brave and beautiful…bellissima.’

  ‘Don’t say that! Don’t pay me compliments I don’t deserve.’ She felt swamped by the evidence of passion she saw blazing in his eyes, and her mouth suddenly turned as arid as parched land that hadn’t felt the kiss of rain for years.

  ‘You cannot stop me from saying the truth. You will only stop me if you kiss me and then I will quicken your blood with words that only spill from a lover’s tongue, until you can be in no doubt that I am in earnest about my admiration for you.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yes, Bliss. Sì.’

  When Dante’s mouth created an explosive union with hers, the wall behind Bliss seemed to turn as liquid as her spine, her gasping, hungry breath melding with Dante’s just before the heat and hardness of his demanding, sensuous lips made all thought impossible except for one ultimate realisation. The growing desire to surrender to the tearing wildness that was making her want to give herself to him, mind, body and soul. As her fingers latched on to the elegant hand-woven lapels of his tailored jacket as though the material were some kind of life-raft, Dante’s own hands slid down her body to her waist, contact leaving an imprint so profound that Bliss began to shake. Bringing his hard, lean hips into full, dizzying proximity to hers, he passionately deepened the kiss. His tongue swept the tenderly silky depths of her mouth with stunning expertise designed to extract the ultimate response, almost unravelling her there and then before even a single item of her clothing was undone.

  Dragging his lips from her mouth to her neck without breaking contact, he suckled her flesh, allowing his teeth to momentarily graze her skin before roughly tearing open Bliss’s cotton shirt and consigning her buttons to oblivion. Too enraptured to want to protest, Bliss arched her body against him, desperate to feel the seductive satin of his hard, warm flesh against her own, mindless with longing. Murmuring something in his native tongue with a harsh, demanding breath, Dante ruthlessly gave the same tempestuous treatment to her bra, pushing aside the lace cups and releasing her pretty tip-tilted breasts into his big, smooth hands. Pinching her tight, swollen nipples until she bucked against him with a ragged cry, he took each one in turn into his mouth and introduced her to a nirvana so erotic that all Bliss could do was whimper and moan and bite her lip as wave after wave of powerful release throbbed through her body, leaving her as stunned as though she’d been buffeted by a hurricane.

  ‘Where is your bedroom?’ Raising his head, Dante stared down into Bliss’s glazed violet eyes with possessive intent, his need to make her properly his urgent and primitive and driving every other coherent thought far from his mind. Trying to straighten her dishevelled clothing and meeting his avaricious gaze with equal hunger as she moved away from the wall, Bliss didn’t reply—just headed dazedly down the hall to a door right at the end and went inside.

  When Dante went through the door to join her, he had already removed his jacket and shoes and opened several buttons on his Italian-made shirt. At the edge of her bed, the dusky mulberry duvet already peeled back from damson-coloured pillows, Bliss was shakily taking off her own shirt and unbuttoning her jeans. As she stepped out of the heavy denim she deliberately didn’t speak and neither did Dante. The very air that they shared said everything that needed to be said and more. It crackled around them, dense with anticipation and longing. She could have had her confidence stolen by her lack of experience in these matters, but, Bliss thought, why should she when Dante had already demonstrated his desire so openly? All she had to do was follow his lead and she would know what to do. If she faltered, or felt suddenly shy—then Dante would no doubt be a willing guide.

  He removed his shirt and Bliss’s gaze was magnetised by the awesome beauty of his body. His chest was wide and bronzed, well defined and clearly toned to mouth-watering perfection beneath the swi
rls of fine dark hair that dusted across his flat male nipples. One corner of his mouth edged up in a lustful little smile as he came towards her and Bliss shivered violently. In one fluid motion he stepped out of the rest of his clothing, then, without breaking his gaze from hers, joined Bliss at the side of the bed, his mouth hotly touching her bare shoulder, then his hands slowly but surely pushing her back down against the pillows.

  The panties she was wearing were a high-legged black confection of silk and lace fastened by little pink bows at the side and she had the body to exhibit them to their sexiest advantage. Allowing his glance to linger on the curvaceous flare of her hips to the tops of her shapely toned thighs, Dante sensed the need in him grow into a conflagration. Undoing the tiny hooks of her matching black bra with a sleight of hand that made Bliss almost forget to breathe, he feasted his appreciative male gaze on the gorgeous, erotic swell of breasts that would make an artist weep at the sight of such perfection. Everything about Bliss Maguire was as tempting as sin, Dante thought fervently, yet she had a delightful innocence that could not be fabricated. Excitement and ardour made his heart beat almost dangerously fast. With a sensuous rasp in Bliss’s ear, describing to her in explicit Italian exactly what he’d like to do to her, he helped her part company with her sexy black underwear before she could beg him to tell her in English. Running his hand up the inside of her thigh, he found the clutch of tight curls at her apex, then eased his fingers slowly but inexorably into the damp warmth between her thighs. She whimpered—the soft, impossibly sexy sounds she was making heightening his desire into a lightning storm in response. He sensed the bounds of self-restraint snap and, uttering words that sounded like an impassioned prayer, his mouth eagerly sought hers in a highly charged, erotic kiss.

  Unable to wait any longer he eased his throbbing, aching sex inside her, feeling himself harden to a degree that was nothing less than exquisite torture at the deeply sensual contact. Lust deluging him in its power, like powerful water rapids urging him inevitably onwards to the crest of a fall, he registered the hot clasp of Bliss’s tight, contracting muscles close around him in deeply carnal feminine possession. As he kissed her everywhere the taste and texture of her skin all but drove him close to losing his sanity. But wherever and however much he touched her, he found he was still greedy for more—like a man who had been starved of sustenance for too long and now could hardly contain his appetite.