Bound to the Tuscan Billionaire

by Susan Stephens

  ‘You stay there, love. I’ll help you out,’ the cabbie insisted. ‘You’ve got someone coming to look after you for the first few days, I hope?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she said quickly, seeing the cabby’s concerned face. He was the type of kind-hearted man who would send his wife round to look after her if she so much as hinted that she could do with some help, and as much as she would have liked the reassurance of an experienced person to back up her scant knowledge of baby care, she was determined to do this on her own. Better to start as she meant to go on, rather than put unfair demands on other people.

  But she was apprehensive, Cass accepted as the cabbie opened the front door for her. Thanking him, she said goodnight, knowing that once she stepped over the threshold she was truly on her own with her baby in the little house.

  Yes, it was a tiny house, but it was tiny and snug, and she’d be fine here, and so would Luca. She gazed adoringly into his sleeping face, and silently promised her little boy all the love and care that she could give him. But whatever gloss she tried to put on her new life, her footsteps still echoed as she walked into the empty house. However cosy she’d made their tiny nest, they were still alone. She put her apprehension down to baby blues. She’d get over it, Cass told herself firmly as she carefully tucked Luca in to his Moses basket. They’d warned her in the hospital to expect a bit of a comedown. ‘It’s just the hormones regulating themselves,’ the midwife had told her. ‘You’ll come out of it, and then you’ll find that every day is a new adventure for you and your son.’

  At the time she had agreed, not wanting to burst the midwife’s kindly bubble, but right now alone was alone, and she had a long night ahead of her, with not much of a clue as to what to do.

  Put the computer on and get some books out, do some research, prepare bottles, nappies and anything else you think you might need, and do it now, while the baby’s sleeping.

  She felt better now she’d got a plan. She was bone-weary and longing for her bed, but she had things to do first, and then she had plans for the future to make.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘YOU’RE JUST LIKE your papa,’ she murmured, leaving Luca sleeping soundly in his Moses basket upstairs as she crept downstairs to make more bottles.

  And Luca would probably be every bit as demanding as his father, Cass reflected as she switched on the all the lights to make the place look cheery. She put more logs on the smouldering fire and turned up the heating. It was still dark outside and snow was falling. There were so few hours of daylight in the winter...

  She backed into the shadows of the room, seeing a sleek black four-wheeler parked outside beneath a streetlamp. Did Marco have people watching her even now?

  She had just turned from the window when a rap on the door made her jump. Crossing the room, she stared through the security peephole and started back.

  Marco!

  She hesitated. Her initial instinct was not to let him in. She couldn’t face a replay of the drama in the hospital. But she loved him. How could she say no when everything inside the house was warm and cosy, and Marco was standing on her doorstep, stamping his feet, with his shoulders hunched against the driving wind and snow?

  Her emotions were still in turmoil as she undid the locks and swung the door wide. ‘If this is about your DNA test—’

  ‘It isn’t,’ he assured her.

  With the streetlamp behind him and his face wreathed in shadows, Marco looked more intimidating than he ever had. ‘How did you know I was home?’

  ‘Inside information.’

  ‘Your people?’ She tightened her jaw.

  ‘Your midwife. I finally managed to convince her that I have your best interests at heart.’

  ‘And how did you do that?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘I talked to her. Something I should maybe have tried with you.’

  This admission made her soften a little. ‘I don’t want any trouble, Marco.’ She was still standing in his way. ‘My baby’s sleeping—’

  ‘I’m not here to give you trouble, Cassandra. What happened in the hospital—’

  ‘Was unforgivable,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed grimly. ‘It was.’

  ‘So, why are you here now?’

  ‘To explain. I don’t want to disturb you, but...’

  He looked so hopeful, though she was still wary. Marco was the biological father of her child, but his appalling behaviour in the hospital had shocked her out of thinking he might change. It took a large wedge of snow, falling from the roof and landing on his shoulders, to jolt her into action. When he laughed and exclaimed, ‘Divine retribution!’ she laughed too.

  ‘You’d better come in,’ she said. ‘But let’s get rid of this first.’ Standing on tiptoe, she swiped the snow from one shoulder as Marco swept it from the other.

  ‘Ever the practical girl, Cassandra,’ he said dryly, turning his dark, compelling stare on her face. The stare she had missed...the stare she had so longed to see again.

  She stood back to let him into the house. ‘I’m a woman, not a girl, Marco—as I have been since the day we met.’

  Cool words that she could congratulate herself for finding, but she shouldn’t have touched him, because even that lightest and most innocent of touches had made her long to be in his arms again—to have him kiss her, warm her. At the end of the day it didn’t matter what he did or he said, she loved him with all her heart, and she always would.

  ‘Why are you here?’ she asked as soon as Marco had closed the door on the cold.

  Why was he here? Because he couldn’t stay away from her.

  ‘Marco?’ Cassandra prompted him. ‘Let me take your jacket. Go and make yourself warm by the fire...’

  His fist tightened around the envelope he was carrying, the envelope he hadn’t shown her yet. It was still unopened. It contained the results of the DNA test.

  ‘Where’s the baby?’ he asked, glancing around. He was consumed by a ravening hunger to see the child he had so callously discarded in the hospital.

  ‘He’s upstairs, sleeping. You can...’

  Was she going to invite him to see the baby? He would never know. Her voice had tailed off, as if she had thought better of that suggestion after his despicable behaviour in the labour ward. ‘And you, Cassandra? How are you?’ She looked ‘fine’, as Cassandra would say, but was she? And shouldn’t she be resting?

  ‘Me?’ she queried with surprise. ‘I’m very well, thank you.’ Her face relaxed. ‘It’s early days, you know.’

  He frowned. ‘Don’t you have anyone to help you?’

  ‘Do I need anyone? I have friends who have promised to pop round, but I’m still getting used to being a mother and I’m happy with my own company for now.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be resting in bed?’

  ‘I’m not sure how much resting Luca is going to allow me. I will rest when I can.’

  ‘Luca?’ he queried.

  ‘That’s what I’ve named my son.’

  A steely glint had returned to her eyes, as if she dared him to disagree, either with the name she had chosen or the fact that she had just put her stake in the ground, making it clear that she was a single parent and quite happy to go it alone without him.

  ‘What’s that?’ she demanded as he stared down at the envelope in his hand.

  ‘I think you know,’ he said quietly.

  ‘The test.’ She met his gaze steadily, but her eyes had turned cold. ‘You had a DNA test carried out on my son without my permission? Of course,’ she murmured thoughtfully. ‘Anything is possible for Marco di Fivizzano. But that doesn’t make it right, Marco. When did you get this done? Did you have someone sneak into the maternity ward to take a sample from my baby?’

  ‘There was nothing underhand about it,’ he assured
her calmly.

  ‘You had someone prick my baby’s heel and take a sample of Luca’s blood, and that’s not underhand?’ Her eyes were like pinpoints of fury on his face.

  ‘I was told that saliva does just as well.’

  ‘Am I supposed to be reassured by the idea of someone sticking a foreign object into my newborn baby’s mouth?’

  She was on fire and magnificent. If he were in a position to choose a mother for his child, who better than Cassandra?

  ‘Well?’ she demanded, taking the tension between them to breaking point. ‘Don’t you have anything to say about it?’

  ‘I had the midwife you trusted do it. It was all above board. She didn’t like doing it, even with a court order, but for the sake of what she called a foregone conclusion she said that it was better she did it than anyone else.’ Catching hold of Cassandra, he laced his fingers through her hair to bring her close. ‘Forgive me?’

  With a disbelieving laugh she pulled away. ‘No. I won’t forgive you.’ She stared at him white-faced. ‘Well? Aren’t you going to open it?’ She glanced at the envelope in his hand.

  Slowly and deliberately he ripped it up in front of her and let the pieces drop.

  ‘I don’t need to look at it. I trust you, and I know our son,’ he said.

  As they stared at each other, a multitude of emotions flashed across her face, and then after what seemed to him like an eternity she said, ‘Are you going to clear that up?’

  Breath rushed out of him as the tension in the room subsided. His shoulders relaxed and his face creased in a grin. He wanted to drag her close, but he dropped to his knees instead and thought himself the luckiest man on earth as he gathered up the unnecessary proof that the child sleeping upstairs was his. He didn’t need a piece of paper to tell him what he already knew. He had known the moment the midwife had put the baby in his arms. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it—not to himself, not to Cass—and not because he didn’t want the child but because he so desperately did. And for the first time in his life he had wondered then, as he wondered now, if he had what it took to be a father—and not just a father but a good father. The best. Though remembering what Cass had said about babies not coming with a manual, he thought he could learn to do this...they could learn together.

  * * *

  By the time she came downstairs after feeding Luca and putting him back to sleep, Marco had got the fire blazing.

  ‘Sit,’ she invited. ‘Thanks for stoking the fire.’

  ‘You want to talk,’ he guessed.

  ‘Yes, I do.’ Sitting down with some space between them, she turned a concerned look on Marco’s face. ‘I believe childhood forms the foundation of our lives—makes us who we are.’

  ‘Childhood certainly teaches us what we don’t want,’ he said.

  ‘And what we do,’ she countered gently.

  ‘We strive for some things, and do our best to avoid others,’ he said with a shrug.

  ‘Is it that simple, Marco? It wasn’t that simple for me. I look back and I see my parents differently now I’m older. But my past is well documented, while yours is equally well hidden.’

  ‘And you want to know why?’

  ‘You’re the father of my son. It would be strange if I didn’t, if only so I can understand you better.’

  At one time she might have been surprised to see Marco’s eyes darken with emotion, but not now. The birth of their baby had changed him in some deep fundamental way, unlocking some hidden part of him. ‘Tell me about your mother. Can you remember her?’

  ‘Of course I can.’ He frowned as he thought back. ‘As you said, I see things differently now, but as a child I felt burdened by her. Now I can see that she did care for me in her way, but she was weak.’

  ‘You mustn’t blame yourself for how you felt about her as a child. You’ve resolved that as an adult.’

  ‘Have I? I used to blame her for everything—for taking me away from the man I thought was my father, and for not staying with the man who was my father by blood. I later learned that my real father had abandoned her, and the man she married had no interest in a bastard son once he found out the truth about my parentage. I thought my mother was a drunken slut who had slept with another man and who then tried to pass me off as the true son of her marriage. I refused to see that her descent into alcoholic rages and her dependency on drugs was a result of her sickness, and that she needed help, not blame— certainly not blame from her son.’

  ‘And when she died?’ Cass prompted gently.

  ‘I was scavenging in bins outside restaurants for our food by that time, and it was a chef who took pity on me. He brought me into the warmth of his kitchen, cleaned me up and taught me how to cook. When I was orphaned he introduced me to the local priest who found me a place in a children’s home and made sure I was educated. Education and a safe roof over my head proved to be the key to everything I am today. And in answer to your question, I don’t have anything noble to offer by way of an explanation. I hated my mother for what she had done.’

  ‘What happened to change your mind?’

  He paused a moment and then he huffed an unsmiling laugh. ‘A scarf,’ he revealed with an incredulous shrug. ‘It was when I was walking away from the hospital after you had given birth that I remembered the weather was very similar to the night my mother and I were thrown out on the street. I remembered shivering, and my mother taking off her scarf to tie it around my neck. So she did care for me...’

  ‘Of course she did.’ Reaching out impulsively, Cass put her arms around Marco to draw him close. ‘Her life must have been a black pit of misery and she had no one to help her climb out.’

  Marco lifted his dark stare to hers. ‘It took the birth of a baby for me to remember what my mother did for me that night, and then I remembered all the other little things she’d done before she became too sick to do anything.’

  ‘But you have remembered,’ Cass pointed out. ‘Learning to love again is a slow, risky business Marco.’

  ‘As you should know,’ he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. ‘I wish you’d rest,’ he murmured. ‘You’ll need all your strength to look after our son.’

  Hearing Marco refer to our son sounded so good, but she needed more from him before she could be sure that he had put the past behind him. ‘And you, Marco? What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’

  He would never admit to any weakness, she knew that. ‘I’ve always believed that admitting weakness is a sign of strength. You’ve helped me to understand you. And you’re doing everything you can to help me and our son, which tells me that you are reconciled with the past, but you haven’t recognised that fact yet.’

  ‘I can’t just turn on a switch and make everything right.’

  ‘But you can take one step at a time—as you have already done, and as you are doing, but now I need a commitment from you, going forward, or you will have to leave.’

  She paused to give that time to sink in.

  ‘You’re throwing me out?’ he demanded incredulously.

  ‘To a stranger this might look like the traditional family scene, with all of us snug in our tiny house, but that’s all it is, Marco—a scene, and I need more from you than that. We need a plan. Luca needs security, and so do I. And before I make any plan I have to know if we’re going forward together or separately as individuals. We’ve talked about the past, and now we have to talk about the future.’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  She felt a cold chill of fear, knowing that Marco had always been able to go so far but no further, and she couldn’t risk him slipping back into his cold-hearted past now they had Luca to consider. ‘You’re not the only one risking your heart here. I am too, but more importantly so is our son. And if you’re serious about not wanting history to repeat itself, you ne
ed to think about your place in Luca’s life, because I won’t allow you to step in and out of it on a whim.’

  She felt desperately sorry for Marco after what he’d told her, but she had a child to think about now. ‘Luca’s birth has changed you, but I need to be sure of you, Marco. Luca needs to be sure of you.’

  ‘You can’t stop me seeing him.’

  Marco stood, and he towered over her in a menacing reminder of the power he wielded. ‘What’s to stop me taking him with me right now?’

  ‘I will,’ she said, standing to bar Marco’s way to his son.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ‘BE REASONABLE, CASSANDRA. Let me go to my son.’

  ‘No. You can’t have it all, Marco,’ she said, standing at the foot of the stairs. ‘You think everyone wants you for the basest of reasons, even the mother of your son. If you think your worth lies solely in your money and power, then all I can say is that you must have a very low opinion of yourself.’

  ‘You make it all sound so straightforward, Cassandra.’

  ‘Because it is straightforward!’ she exclaimed with frustration. ‘You might be the master of all you survey at Fivizzano Inc., but this is my territory, my home, and I’m still waiting for an answer to my question. What part do you intend to play in Luca’s life?’

  ‘A full part if you come back to Rome with me. What?’ He frowned. ‘I don’t understand why you’re looking at me like that. You’ll be living in the lap of luxury...’