Reunited with Her Italian Billionaire

by Nina Singh

  “He likes to sit by the window and drink it while I get his breakfast ready,” she said, handing Enzo a full sippy cup.

  Marco sighed and put his son down. Enzo immediately scuttled to the love seat in front of the bay window.

  “Do you suppose he remembers me?” Marco asked.

  “I’m sure he does.”

  Marco looked skeptical. His eyes bored into hers. “I’m glad one of us is sure.”

  The implication was clear. There was no doubt in her mind who Marco would blame if Enzo in fact didn’t remember him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  BRIANNA CHOSE TO try to ignore the tension in the air. Pushing her way around Marco to grab the bread off the counter, she dropped two slices into the toaster and stared at it, as if toasting bread took the utmost concentration. All the while she could feel Marco’s gaze on her back.

  “I have to get to the restaurant today,” she said. “You’ll have to find a way to keep yourself busy.”

  She moved to the refrigerator for the butter. Marco stood directly in front of it. He, of course, refused to budge. She brushed past him, the slight physical contact just enough to inflame her nerves.

  “I’ll stay right here with my son,” Marco said.

  Opening the door as wide as she could with him standing there, Brianna reached for the butter drawer. “I’m afraid not.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Enzo’s nanny will be here any minute. She usually has the whole day planned for him.”

  He shrugged. “You can give her the day off.”

  Brianna slowly shut the refrigerator door. “It’s too late to do that. She’s probably on the train right now.”

  “So tell her when she gets here. I don’t see a problem.”

  “I’m not going to tell her she’s wasted a trip. Or that she’ll have to miss a day of compensation.”

  Marco looked up to the ceiling and sighed. His expression made him look every bit the part of a man holding on to the last of his patience. “I’ll compensate her for the commute and give her two days’ pay for her trouble. A week’s pay.”

  That was so typical of Marco. “You think you can solve anything with money.”

  “I’ve found very few issues money couldn’t solve,” he replied, his voice hard.

  “Well, this is my home and I won’t allow it,” she declared just as the doorbell rang.

  At the sound, Enzo jumped up and yelled “Ding-dong!”

  Brianna barely caught him before he tumbled off the cushion onto the floor. He wailed in protest. The doorbell rang again. And again.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming.” Brianna set Enzo down gently on his feet. Marco gave her another amused smirk.

  She scowled back and opened the door. “Mrs. Schelling. You’re here.”

  Her nanny trotted inside and let out a loud “humph” before turning to her. “I only came for one thing, and then I’ll be going.” The grim set of the woman’s lips sent alarms ringing in Brianna’s head.

  Not now, not today. She forced a smile, almost certain she knew what was about to happen. “Oh. All right. Why don’t we go talk in the kitchen?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve come to quit.”

  Brianna’s heart dived. Somehow she kept her smile in place. Putting her arm around the other woman’s plump shoulders, she tried to move her toward the kitchen. Away from Marco.

  “Don’t even joke like that, Mrs. Schelling.”

  Mrs. Schelling didn’t move. “This is no joke, Miss Brianna. I refuse to tolerate any more from that young man.” Squinting, she pointed to Enzo. Enzo in turn stopped sucking on his cup long enough to give Mrs. Schelling a wide grin.

  “I don’t understand.” Brianna dropped her arm.

  Mrs. Schelling held out her palm. “I quit and I’d like my remaining payment.”

  “But why?”

  “I can no longer take care of your son. Life is too short. And I’m afraid I’ve already lived the bulk of mine at my age.”

  Brianna didn’t dare look at Marco. She had no doubt what he had to be thinking. In his eyes, she had failed him as his wife and now she was clearly failing as a single mother.

  This was the last impression she would have hoped to give upon seeing him again. Rather than proving her independence and abilities, she was instead coming off as flighty and in disarray, unable to get her act straight.

  All she’d ever wanted was a stable home, some roots. With the arrival of her son, that had seemed like a real possibility. But now it was all going to rot somehow. She may have ended up with a family but it had come about in a random and haphazard manner. Now even that was falling apart.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all night. Agonizing over the decision,” Mrs. Schelling was saying. Listening to her was like trying to focus as the walls crumbled around her. Brianna had tried so hard to lay the groundwork perfectly for her return to the United States. All to watch it implode now. And just her luck, Marco was here to witness the latest catastrophe.

  The older woman paused to take a deep breath. “Your son is simply too much for me to handle. I dare say he’s too much for anyone to handle.”

  Now that was a bit much. Brianna looked directly into the older woman’s eyes. “He’s barely two. He just doesn’t know any better.”

  Mrs. Schelling took a tiny step back. Maybe it was the edge that had crept into her voice. It was a small source of satisfaction.

  “Nevertheless, I don’t have to put up with his behavior. Not for any amount of money.”

  Brianna tried to steady herself and her emotions. It didn’t help that Enzo was running in circles and shaking his spill-proof cup so furiously that he was managing to spill it anyway.

  “Tell you what,” Brianna began in a much softer tone. “Why don’t you let me get dressed and we can discuss all this over a cup of coffee.” She indicated Marco with a nod of her head. “He was just leaving.”

  Mrs. Schelling turned to look at him. Acknowledging Marco for the first time since she’d arrived, she studied him thoroughly. Apparently, she didn’t like what she saw. Then she turned her eyes to Brianna’s short T-shirt.

  “I didn’t realize you were entertaining a gentleman,” she said with disdain.

  Brianna’s breath caught. That was probably the worst thing to say in front of her husband. She didn’t have a chance to reply. Enzo, who must have sensed the tension between his mama and the nanny, whom he never really took a liking to, walked over and threw his relatively full cup straight at Mrs. Schelling’s shin.

  “Ow! Do you see?” she cried. “There are plenty of nice, manageable children out there who need looking after. I don’t have to put up with—” She gave Enzo a look that could only be described as disgusted. “With this—”

  “I am sorry for any trouble my son may have caused,” Marco interrupted. His words were cordial enough, but they held a distinct undertone.

  “Your son?”

  Marco gave her a stiff nod. “Correct. And it just so happens, we no longer need your services. I am here to make alternate arrangements for Enzo.”

  Marco reached into his back pocket and pulled out a leather wallet. Removing several crisp bills, he extended them to the older woman. Brianna simply stood and stared. She would be hard pressed to match it.

  Mrs. Schelling let out another “humph” as her pudgy hand closed around the bills. “I dare say I deserve it for all I’ve had to put up with.” She gave Enzo a withering look.

  Brianna sighed at the other woman’s sourness. “I’m sorry our arrangement didn’t work out, Mrs. Schelling. I know Enzo can be a handful, but he’s just so young. There’s a lot he needs to learn.”

  Mrs. Schelling pulled her coat tighter as she mumbled something incoherent under her breath. Then she stalked out.

  Brianna shut the door and sta
red at it. What now? Behind her, Marco’s sigh was clearly audible.

  Brianna turned to him. “Don’t you dare say a word. I don’t want to hear anything from you right now.”

  He gave her a look a teacher might give a child who was having a tantrum.

  “Listen,” she continued. “I have made no secret of the fact that Enzo has been having some behavior problems since we moved.”

  “And what of the gentlemen you entertain?”

  True to form, Brianna thought. “I do not entertain anyone. Mrs. Schelling just jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

  Marco’s stony glare didn’t change.

  “In any case, I need to start getting dressed.”

  “Am I to presume that I will be given the privilege of sitting for my own son?”

  “Only if I’m to presume that you’d still like to.”

  “Of course I do. But I have one question for you first.”

  She somehow knew that he would. “By all means,” she said, not sure how much more conflict she could take in one morning.

  “What exactly would you have done if I hadn’t shown up?”

  There was that hint of accusation in his voice again. “I would have figured something out.”

  “I’m afraid to guess what that would have been. Were you going to perhaps dump Enzo off on an unprepared neighbor? Or maybe you would have brought him to the restaurant with you where he would have been practically unsupervised.”

  Oh, he was just too much. “All the neighbors love Enzo, first of all. Secondly, I have a backup sitter.”

  “And how long would that have taken?”

  He had a point. It would probably have taken long enough to make her late again. Enzo’s antics had made her late so often in the past, Chef Ansigne had just about lost all patience with her.

  “Are you going to sit with him or not?”

  “Of course. Don’t even pretend you have another option.”

  Brianna refused to take the bait. “Fine, I’m going to run upstairs and take a shower.” She reached down to tussle Enzo’s hair. He’d come over to hug her leg, seeking comfort, no doubt.

  She leaned over to his eye level. “Enzo, you’re going to spend the day with Papa. All right?”

  Enzo shook his head and smiled.

  Marco immediately went to him. “Why did he say no?” he asked Brianna. “I thought he remembered who I was.”

  “He shakes his head when he means yes. He’s saying no when he covers his face with his arm.”

  Marco smiled but it didn’t last. “It’s been so long, I don’t know any of his little quirks.”

  Here it comes, Brianna thought. Another condemning tirade about how all that was her fault. But instead Marco stroked his son’s cheek and started to speak softly to him in Italian. Brianna hadn’t forgotten how gentle he could be, how tender.

  She shook away the memories. There was no use for them now. Slowly stepping around Marco and Enzo, Brianna silently made her way to the stairway.

  * * *

  Marco heard the water come on upstairs. It would be very hot, he knew. That was how Brianna liked her showers. There would be steam rising off her silky, smooth skin. She was likely using a lavender soap, rubbing it over her curves.

  Stop it.

  But how? She was no less beautiful than when he’d fallen for her three years ago. It was taking everything he had not to go up to her now. He knew she would respond. No matter what had happened between them and how far they’d been apart, she was sure to respond. The way she responded to him had never been the problem.

  He just wished he understood her.

  The nanny’s words echoed through his head. Entertaining a gentleman.

  The woman must have witnessed something to speak as she did. Had she found Brianna “entertaining” in the past?

  He clenched his fists.

  He had to consider the possibility. Despite being her husband, he hardly knew Brianna. When they’d first met on that fateful business trip to oversee expansion of the family’s North American operations, Brianna had still been training then, barely out of culinary school. One look at her had triggered an attraction unlike any he’d ever felt. Nothing he’d ever shared with any other woman even compared. Maybe that was why he’d behaved so foolishly that week and then had actually thought they might make it work.

  Memories of that first night came back to him. Marco had made his way to the kitchen just to get away from all the noise and chaos of a rapidly growing melee. Also to perhaps find something to drink rather than the steady flow of champagne.

  He’d nearly run into Brianna as he’d stepped through the door. She’d been a whirlwind of activity, in charge of catering the affair. Somehow, in a white chef’s hat and stained apron, she was still breathtakingly striking.

  Plus, she’d been so genuine, so real compared to some of the other attendees at that party. He’d been drawn to her immediately. And then when she’d actually ordered him to season appetizers, telling him he may as well make himself useful if he was going to dally in the kitchen.

  No one had ever approached him that way.

  He’d insisted on taking her out that evening, surprised and relieved when she’d agreed. They’d made arrangements to see each other at least once during his weeklong stay, despite the urgent matters he needed to tend to. Instead, they’d seen each other daily.

  Uncharacteristic as it was, he couldn’t seem to help himself despite the demands on his schedule. He’d found himself unable to focus on anything but a primitive need to have her.

  A need that apparently still possessed him today.

  But after they were married, his responsibilities had often kept him away from home. She was his wife. She may as well have been a stranger.

  When did it change? When did their love affair become a cold battle? She’d told him he spent too much time working. Too much time away for his business. She didn’t appreciate the pressure someone in his position faced.

  A tug on his leg brought his attention back to his son.

  He crouched down to Enzo’s position. “Hey, little man.”

  Enzo lifted up his empty cup.

  “More juice?”

  Enzo shook his head.

  “That means yes, right?”

  The boy covered his face.

  “Well, now I’m confused.” Marco stood up with Enzo cradled in his arms. Setting him on the couch, he gave the boy a very serious look then sat next to him. “I believe that was your third nanny in six months, no?”

  Enzo gave him a grin that revealed three upper front teeth. Marco started to smile despite himself. He tried to resume the serious expression on his face but gave up when Enzo grabbed a tuft of his hair. The boy had an amazingly strong grip. Pride in his son’s strength overrode his pain as Enzo tugged. Hard.

  Marco knew he should chastise him but found he couldn’t. Too much time had passed since he’d seen his son.

  Marco sighed. The sooner they worked out custody, the better. He needed to know he would see Enzo for a few days at least once a month. Anything less would be unbearable.

  He and Brianna had no business being married, but their mutual business now was little Enzo. They would have to work to make sure the little boy grew up healthy and happy. It would be difficult, with a mother in New York and a father across the globe in Italy. But it was doable. As soon as Brianna came back from work tonight, he would tell her that. Then he would leave.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BRIANNA WISHED SHE could crawl back into bed.

  In the few short hours since Marco had reentered her world, it had turned upside down. At work, she’d been flustered, clumsy and distracted.

  And she’d been fired. After several warnings, Chef Ansigne had finally relieved her of her position as second line chef. Not that she was surprised. All the incidence
s of tardiness, then today’s repeated mistakes, had sealed her fate. Apparently, lumpy mashed potatoes and droopy salads were Chef Ansigne’s breaking points.

  And now Brianna had to contend with her soon-to-be ex-husband. Had it only been just this morning he’d shown up at her door? She felt as though she’d lived a whole year since. She let a moment pass on the front porch before inserting her key and entering the house. There was no way she could tell him she’d lost her job.

  The sounds of Marco and Enzo playing together resonated through the hallway, Marco’s husky voice punctuated by childish squeals of laughter.

  She hung up her coat and made her way to the kitchen. The two of them were sitting at the center table, which presently held an array of toys. When Enzo saw her he lifted his arms and yelled, “Mama!”

  Brianna went over and gave her son a fierce hug, avoiding eye contact with Marco.

  “I thought you weren’t going to be home until very late.”

  She shrugged. “I asked to leave early.”

  “Hmm.”

  Brianna looked up. “What?”

  He’d rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his collar. His hair was already in disarray, the telltale lock falling forward over his eye. He looked devilish. And incredibly sexy. Her fingers itched to go smooth his hair back, to touch him. She clasped her hands together behind her back.

  “Why did you ask to leave early?” he asked.

  “Because I didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed watching him all by yourself.” That was one doozy of a lie. She’d never seen Marco overwhelmed by anything. This was the man who had taken over the family business and doubled it in size. He knew several languages, could seal any deal, and he was an ace boater who won trophies every year.

  And somehow he’d ended up married to an orphaned nobody who couldn’t keep a job.