by Jennie Lucas
Nico stared at her for a long moment.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said suddenly.
She blinked. “What?”
“It’s clear nothing I say tonight will convince you.”
Honora had been about to list more reasons why she could never, ever marry him. She felt strangely off-kilter by his sudden surrender. She told herself she was relieved. Wasn’t she? “Oh. Good. How will we explain it to Granddad?”
“I’ll talk to him. I owe him that much.”
“Right now?”
“It’s almost midnight.” Nico went to the wet bar. For a moment, she thought he was going to pour more Scotch into his half-empty glass. Instead, he dumped it all down the sink and turned to her with a charming smile. “I’ll take you back home in the morning. Until then, I bid you good night.”
“Good night,” she said faintly, her lips slightly parted as he turned and left the room without a word.
As she followed him up the sweeping staircase of the beach house, she could hardly believe it. She’d won. She’d actually won. Nico Ferraro had given up his desire to marry her.
So why didn’t she feel more joyful about it?
CHAPTER FOUR
WAKING UP THE NEXT morning in the master bedroom of the Hamptons beach house, Nico smiled to himself, amazed at how well he’d slept. Getting out of bed, he stretched in his silk boxers, then went out on his balcony to breathe the fresh ocean air.
The summer storm had cleared out, leaving only beauty behind. Wispy clouds of pink and magenta and peach traced the eastern horizon in the vivid colors of dawn. The deep blue sky, growing lighter by the second, stretched as wide as the Atlantic. He felt like his future, too, was wide open. Nothing but blue skies and blue ocean, ripe with possibility.
First on his agenda: making Honora his wife.
He felt a zing of nervous energy at the thought, and decided to go for a run on the beach. He had to dig in the closet for exercise clothes because he hadn’t brought any in his suitcase from Rome. The realization shocked him.
Before Christmas, he’d been very disciplined about intense daily exercise, as he was about everything. But since then, his only real exercise had been sparring in a boxing gym in Rome—and even that he’d only done out of self-preservation after an altercation with a random lawyer who’d tried to get his clients out of a real estate deal. Nico didn’t remember much about the work he’d sunk himself into over the last six months, but he did remember the moment he’d lunged across the boardroom table and punched the man in the face.
He’d paid for it, of course. He’d settled out of court for a million euros. Pretty expensive way to let off steam. After that, he’d started expending his dark energy at the gym. Better to vent his anger wearing gloves and face guards fighting willing participants or, better yet, a gym bag. Other than that, he’d just worked all day, every day, until he collapsed with exhaustion on the sofa in his private office.
Last night was the first time in months that Nico had slept the whole night through. He marveled at how much better he felt. He hadn’t known it was even possible for him to sleep ten hours.
He’d only had one drink last night—he’d thrown the rest down the sink. He’d wanted to prove a point to Honora, but he knew that wasn’t the only reason he felt better.
He had a mission again. A totally impossible mission, just like when, as a penniless teenager, he’d vowed to be rich.
He would convince Honora Callahan to marry him.
True, he couldn’t give her the romantic love she dreamed of. But he could offer so much more, more than enough to compensate. His fortune, of course. His name. Clearly, the marks of status that would appeal to most women didn’t hold much weight with her. So he’d offer more.
He’d lure her with passion, and a partnership based on mutual respect, even friendship. He had to convince her that she could trust him to cherish and provide for them always. That was the most important thing. She had to know their daughter would be raised in a stable home and would always know she was adored, wanted and welcomed by both parents.
Compared to all that, what was some paltry thing like romantic love? Nothing but sickly sweet love poems and wilting roses.
As soon as he could prove to Honora that he’d never break his commitment to them, he knew she’d fall into his arms.
Thinking of it, Nico smiled to himself and ran a little faster on the edges of the white sandy beach, running on the packed wet section close to the blue-gray surf. The sea air felt fresh and new in the dawn. And that was how he felt. Fresh and new.
He’d changed tactics last night when he’d realized his heavy-handed marriage demand wasn’t working. The more he’d insisted he wanted to marry her and that he intended to be a good husband and father, the more she’d argued with him. So he’d backed off. Insinuated he’d changed his mind about marriage.
He hadn’t.
But he’d learned that in business, the most desirable acquisitions usually took extra time and care. It was her own free choice. She had to want to marry him.
So he would convince her.
Nico picked up the pace to a flat-out run, wet sand flying behind him on the beach in the early-morning light.
All he had to do was become the man she needed. A man who was ready to be a good husband, a good father.
He’d already stopped drinking. Next he would cut back on his working hours and return to a healthier lifestyle of exercise and sleeping in a proper bed. It was horrifying to Nico now, in the cold light of dawn, to realize how lost he’d been the last six months. Yes, he’d added millions to his company’s bottom line by working with such monomaniacal focus. But he’d done that only out of desperate need for distraction. Other than the fistfight with the lawyer, he hardly remembered any of it. Because none of it mattered.
What difference did it make if Nico’s net worth went up another hundred million? His father was dead. He’d never have the satisfaction of seeing the old man weep his regret that he’d rejected Nico as a boy, believing him unworthy of being his son.
He’d never been Nico’s family. Honora, their daughter, their other children yet to come—they would be.
He just had to convince Honora he was worthy of her. And since their baby was due in around two and a half months, he was on the clock.
Checking his smartwatch, Nico saw he’d run five miles. He looked at his speed. Not bad, considering that yesterday he’d been a numb, pathetic workaholic without a reason to live. Now he was getting back to life, to his old discipline, he’d soon improve. With his new focus, he’d springboard to even greater wealth, greater power. Only now, instead of rubbing it in the face of that aristocratic bastard, Nico would bask in the glow of a loving wife and adoring children. He would be happy, damn it.
And hopefully that would leave his dead father spinning in his grave.
Turning around, he started running back toward his house five miles down the shore. He wouldn’t put the mansion up for sale after all, he decided. They’d make memories here. Fill those bedrooms with children.
Just thinking of Honora, he felt his blood grow hot. He could hardly wait to have her in his bed. And this time, he’d make sure he remembered every delicious moment of touching her. He could hardly wait.
Maybe tonight. Or tomorrow. How long did it usually take for a man to prove himself worthy of a woman?
Whatever the usual time was, Nico would do it faster. And better.
Honora Callahan didn’t stand a chance.
* * *
Was it hot in here, or was it just her?
“Thank you for the ride,” Honora said, resisting the urge to fan herself. She felt a bead of sweat forming between her breasts. Because she was pregnant, she told herself fiercely. Not because she wanted him.
“My pleasure.” Nico’s voice was a low purr beside her. His hands were casual on the w
heel as he wove the Lamborghini through highway traffic with confidence and grace. His dark eyes gleamed as he gave her a sensual smile. She gritted her teeth. Damn the man.
The morning after she’d refused his marriage proposal, it seemed cruel that he looked even more handsome and desirable than ever, in a white collared shirt that hugged his muscular torso and flat belly, the top two buttons undone around his thick neck, and wearing trim-fitting dark trousers over his powerful thighs.
He gave her a wicked grin. Realizing she was fanning herself, she stopped with a blush and clasped her hands firmly in her lap.
“It’s July,” she said sharply. “Aren’t you hot?”
He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
His Italian leather shoe pressed on the gas. He looked relaxed, as if he’d had an amazing night’s sleep and plenty of fresh air and exercise.
While Honora had just had the worst night she could remember. She’d felt anxious and tense in the beautiful guest room, staring up at the ceiling, questioning the choice she’d just made. Had she been utterly selfish, holding out for love instead of marrying the father of her baby?
Nico had offered her everything. Except his heart.
And after a lifetime of trying to make herself sweet and helpful and small, to take up as little space as possible, to feel less like a burden to the people she loved, she didn’t think she could bear to live like that for the rest of her life. Was it selfish to want to be loved?
Honora finally fell asleep a few hours before dawn. When she’d woken up, it was midmorning, and the slant of warm golden light flooded the wide windows overlooking the Atlantic. Anxiety rushed through her as she glanced at the clock over the fireplace. She was going to be late!
Peeking into the hallway, she’d found her white sundress, folded with her white cotton bra and panties, clean and pressed as promised. She couldn’t stand tight clothes anymore. This dress was stretchy, and with its spaghetti straps helped her stay cool in the summer heat. After getting dressed and putting on her sandals, she paused just long enough to brush her teeth and run a comb through her hair before she hurried downstairs.
She found Nico in the breakfast room, his dark hair still wet from the shower, drinking black coffee as he perused the morning’s news. When she rushed in like a madwoman with her hair on fire, he looked up in surprise.
“Good morning.” His voice was husky, his dark eyes glowing. “I trust you slept well.”
Honora could hardly admit otherwise without revealing the emotional tumult inside her. “Yes. Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “But I overslept. I need to leave now, if I’m going to get the train on time.”
“The train?” Folding his paper, he looked bemused. “I told you I’d take you back to the city. You have an appointment?”
“At my doctor’s. In three hours.”
“Then we have plenty of time. Sit down.” His dark eyes caressed her, making her feel shivery inside. “What would you like for breakfast?”
You, she thought, then kicked herself for even thinking such a traitorous thing. “Um...buttered toast?”
“We can do better than that.”
Sitting at the farthest edge of the long table, she was soon tucking into a big plate of fruit, eggs and buttered toast, served by Sebastian the butler, who seemed to have warmed to her. Nico smiled when, blushing a little, she asked for tea with milk.
“So you like it,” he said.
“I never thought of putting milk in herbal tea.”
His smile widened to a wicked grin. “So I showed you something new.”
Honora had bitten her lip as she remembered how he’d shown her all kinds of new things on Christmas night, things that made her shiver whenever she allowed them in her memory, kisses and touches and nibbles that would forever be imprinted on her skin.
Sitting beside him in the Lamborghini as they sped toward the city, Honora caught her breath. She had to get ahold of herself!
As they crossed the Queensboro Bridge, she looked out at the Manhattan skyline. Skyscrapers reached into the blue sky in a city that hummed like the buzzing center of the world. Or was it just the rush of blood through her own heart?
They arrived at her obstetrician’s office on the West Side in record time.
“You can drop me off at the curb,” she said quickly.
“I’d like to come.”
Honora looked at him in surprise. “You want to go to my doctor’s appointment?”
“I want to hear our daughter’s heartbeat. I don’t want to miss a thing.”
“Okay. If you really want,” she said, but as Nico looked for a place to park, she could barely contain her shock. Never, in all the years she’d known him as her grandfather’s boss, had she ever seen Nico Ferraro give away his time to anyone.
He gave people money, of course. He paid his employees well and donated large sums to charities, gifts that were always splashed in the news as PR for Ferraro Developments Inc. And Nico had occasionally given her grandfather praise, or gifts arranged by one of his personal assistants. But spend an hour of his precious time on something that was not for his own direct benefit? Never.
And yet Nico was patient and attentive during the doctor’s appointment, asking lots of questions. He squeezed Honora’s hand during the ultrasound, and when he saw the outline of their baby on the screen, the small head, fingers and toes, Nico’s handsome face filled with emotion.
“That’s our baby,” he whispered, and he lowered his head to kiss her.
It was barely a peck, just a friendly kiss. But still. It reminded her of the kiss he’d given her last night, a kiss that had made her want to forget every warning of self-preservation and fall into his arms.
But Honora had learned her lesson. No matter how interested and patient he seemed now, she knew his attention would wane. He wasn’t the kind of man who would ever settle down—especially not with someone as average as Honora.
As they left the doctor’s office, Nico held her hand, and in his other he clutched the ultrasound image of their baby. He kept smiling down at it. And it made hope rise unbidden inside her.
Did he really want to be a father? Did he mean it? Would it last?
Honora’s phone rang.
“Are you back in the city?” Her grandfather’s voice sounded odd.
“Yes, we’re coming from my checkup.”
“We? Your fiancé is with you?”
“Granddad, he’s not—”
“When is he bringing you home?”
“Now.” The sooner the better. Being with Nico was starting to make her want things she shouldn’t.
“Good. Your doc’s in midtown, right?”
“Near Lincoln Center—”
“See you soon.” And her grandfather hung up. She stared at the phone with a frown, wondering why he was acting so weird. He’d acted weird last night, too. Not the bit with the rifle but afterward, when he’d pretended to be old and tired so he could return to the city immediately.
Had it just been an excuse to leave Honora and Nico alone, so they’d pick a wedding date? Or was it something else?
As she walked down the sidewalk in the bright July sunshine, a wave of foreboding went through her.
Nico said suddenly, “What do fathers usually drive? Minivans?”
“What?” She looked up, confused.
Seeing her face, Nico gave a low laugh. “I must sound like an idiot,” he said ruefully as he opened the passenger door of the Lamborghini. She climbed in, carefully lowering herself into the low-slung seat. “I just don’t know much about them.”
“Babies?”
“Fathers.”
Had he spent no time with his father at all growing up? “You don’t need to rush out and buy a minivan. You already have tons of cars,” she told him when he got in the driver’s seat. “Just choose one with a b
ack seat. An SUV is fine, or even a sedan like the Bentley.”
She regretted mentioning the Bentley almost immediately. As he started the engine, he shot her a questioning glance.
“Rossini’s in love with you, you know.”
Honora looked out the window as they drove down the street. “Are you sure you don’t mind driving all the way to Queens? I could take the subway.”
“Of course I don’t mind, and don’t change the subject.”
She gave a regretful sigh. “I know he is,” she said in a small voice. “But I’m not sure what to do about it.” She tilted her head. “What do you do? You must have lots of women fall in love with you.”
Nico snorted. “No.”
“How is that possible?”
He gave a shrug. “If any woman starts acting like she’s in love with me, I’m extremely rude until she changes her mind.”
She gave a low laugh, then grew thoughtful. “What about Lana Lee? She must have loved you to want to marry you.”
Staring at the road, he said quietly, “I doubt it. She liked the press attention and lifestyle I could provide.”
“Wasn’t she already rich, as a movie star?”
“There’s rich, and then there’s rich,” he pointed out. “But you’re right. She didn’t need me. She was just surprised when I broke up with her. She isn’t used to it.”
“Why did you propose to her in the first place if you didn’t love her? I mean, she wasn’t pregnant, was she?”
Nico shot her a sharp glance, and she felt her cheeks go hot. “Of course not. I told you. You’re the first and only.” His hands tightened on his steering wheel. “The reason I proposed to Lana is no longer relevant.”
Honora waited, but he didn’t explain his clear nonanswer. She tried to think of a way to ask probing questions without it being obvious. She couldn’t.
“Was it because she was so famous and beautiful?” she said finally.
“You could say it was a mark of success. At least to a certain type of person.”
