Dante looking down at her with surprise as she’d grabbed his hand and begged him to stay...
A wave of humiliation swept through her and she rolled over, burying her face against the cool white cotton of the pillow.
She couldn’t think what on earth had possessed her. That she’d let him wash her and put her to bed like a child was bad enough, but then to ask him to stay with her... Why had she done that?
It was true that after the two orgasms he’d given her she’d felt utterly exhausted, what little strength she’d had long gone. And when he’d gathered her up in his arms and held her against his hard, muscular chest she’d felt...safe and cared for.
It had been a strange, intoxicating feeling.
No one had taken care of her when she’d been young. Not her mother, who had been too busy running around after her brother, and not her father, who hadn’t wanted to concern himself with a mere girl. Since her brother, as the heir, had always been more important, she hadn’t questioned her parents’ priorities. And, if she’d occasionally ached for someone to put their arms around her and tell her she was loved, well, that sensation soon passed if she ignored it.
Except she hadn’t ignored it the way she should, had she? Because it had been that need for love that had been her weakness. Her flaw. It had got her brother captured, had broken her mother’s heart and had turned her father even colder and harder than he had been already.
She thought she’d overcome that part of herself years ago and she didn’t understand what had made her surrender to Dante so completely the night before. What had made her relax against the heat and strength of his muscular body as he’d held her in his arms.
Perhaps it was the chemistry between them that had been the catalyst, blazing so brightly she’d been overwhelmed. Or maybe it was the discovery of her own power over him and the way she’d been able to strip that lazy playboy veneer away from him, exposing all the wild heat and hunger that lay beneath it.
Whatever it was, it couldn’t happen again.
Stella closed her eyes, trying not to think about his fingers on her bare skin or how he’d felt inside her, moving hard and hot, holding her hands behind her back as he’d taken what he wanted from her...
No, most certainly it could not happen again.
‘You’re awake?’
She went still at the deep, rich sound of Dante’s voice then rolled over and sat up, clutching the sheet around her, even though she knew it was pointless, considering he’d touched every inch of her when he’d washed her in the shower the night before.
He was leaning against the doorframe watching her, his hands pushed casually into the pockets of his expertly tailored dark-charcoal suit trousers, the look on his beautiful face guarded, leaving her with no idea what he was thinking.
‘Yes,’ she said coolly, drawing the sheet around her in a more decorous fashion. ‘Obviously I’m awake.’
A fleeting ripple of amusement crossed his features. ‘You don’t fool me with that “ice queen” act, kitten. Not after last night.’
Heat rose in her face. ‘Is there anything in particular that you want? I need to get dressed.’
They would not be having any discussions about last night, not if she could help it.
Dante’s smile faded as quickly as it had come, the look in his eyes becoming oddly intent, and she was conscious of the tension crawling through her.
Whatever it was he was going to say it was obvious he was deadly serious about it.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘About what to do.’
The tension began to wind like a clock spring, tighter and tighter. She swallowed. ‘What to do about what?’
‘I told you not to play games with me.’ Gold glinted in his eyes. ‘You know what I’m talking about.’
Stella tightened her grip on the sheet. ‘The baby, you mean?’
‘Yes, the baby.’ He shifted against the door frame. Today he wore a dark-blue business shirt, open at the throat, exposing smooth, tanned skin and drawing her gaze to the strong, regular beat of his pulse.
Her mouth dried, her skin prickling all over with heat as she remembered what it had felt like to touch him, and how hot his chest had been when she’d laid her head against it listening to the beat of his heart.
‘When our family was exiled from Monte Santa Maria,’ he went on, as if he hadn’t noticed her staring fixedly at his throat, ‘we settled in Milan. However, as you know, my mother wasn’t happy with our change in circumstances and, after a year or so, she decided to leave to find something better.’ Dante’s dark eyes gave nothing away. ‘She took me with her, dragging me away from my home, away from what I knew and into a life where there was no stability and no protection. She was more interested in wine and violent men than in looking after me.’ His tone was expressionless—too expressionless.
Very much against her will, Stella felt that same stir of curiosity that she’d felt the night before, when he’d related the facts of his life with the same dispassion as he did now. Which was wrong. Facts were fine—she knew them already anyway—but she didn’t want to know anything beyond them.
He couldn’t afford to become a person to her, not in any way.
‘That sounds...appalling.’ She wasn’t sure what else to say. ‘But how does this relate to the baby?’
Dante’s gaze darkened, an odd intensity creeping into it. ‘I’ve never done the right thing in my life. I’ve always avoided responsibility. But I cannot avoid it now. And I will not allow my child to be dragged into the sort of life I had.’
She blinked. ‘You think that I would?’
‘I don’t know. Would you?’
Of course. He didn’t trust her. As she already knew.
‘No,’ she said flatly, forcing away the sudden, hot lick of defensive anger, though why she should care what he thought of her one way or another she had no idea. ‘I would not.’
‘But I have no guarantee of that.’ His voice was hard as iron, his gaze uncompromising. ‘You have nowhere to go but that gutter I pulled you from yesterday or back to your parents in Monte Santa Maria. And, make no mistake, you will not be returning to either of those places.’
‘I can—’ she began hotly.
‘Which leaves me with only one option.’
A formless, inexplicable dread began to creep through her. She hadn’t thought about where she would go after her task was completed, because she hadn’t allowed herself to think about it. And she didn’t want to think about it now.
‘And no doubt you’re going to tell me what that is,’ she snapped, angry that he was forcing this on her.
‘Our child needs somewhere safe and stable to grow up,’ he said steadily. ‘And two parents to protect him or her.’
The dread pulled tighter. ‘So what does that mean?’
‘It means that you, kitten, will be staying here with me.’ He paused, his gaze becoming even more intense. ‘As my wife.’
Shock punched her hard in the gut and her brain blanked. ‘Your wife?’ she forced out, her voice hoarse. ‘You cannot be serious.’
‘I have never been more serious in my life.’ There was nothing but darkness in his eyes now, every line of his handsome face set and hard. ‘We will need to get married and then I intend to buy a family home where we will live together with our child.’
‘But I—’
‘It will be a marriage in name only,’ he went on, ignoring her. ‘I won’t require anything from you physically. I’ll find another outlet for my own needs.’
Stella fell silent, too shocked to speak, her brain struggling to catch up with what he was saying.
A marriage in name only. With the man she was supposed to revenge herself on. Creating a family with him and their child...
Her heart missed a beat, thundering loudly in her head, and for a second something hungry open
ed up inside her, a void she hadn’t realised was there. Then she shoved the hunger away, before it settled too deeply, as another idea took its place.
This could be the opportunity she was looking for, a way to break him, to take the revenge that she needed for Matteo’s sake.
He was famous for caring about nothing, except he cared about the baby. And he cared about giving that baby a home, a family. She couldn’t bring herself to use their child to hurt him but...she could use herself, couldn’t she?
Last night, on the terrace, she’d got a taste of her own power over him, the feminine power that was all hers. And she’d used it. So why couldn’t she use it again? Why couldn’t she use that to make him care about her the way he cared about the baby? Obviously, he had the ability to feel something, so there was the potential to make him feel something for her.
Make him fall for her, even.
Why would you think he’d fall for the woman who tried to murder him?
He might not. There were no guarantees. But this passion between them was too potent a weapon to ignore, and besides, what other option was there?
She had to try, at least. For Matteo’s sake.
‘You don’t like that idea?’ His voice came unexpectedly, almost making her jump.
Looking up, she found him watching her intently from the doorway.
‘Wh-what idea?’ she asked, struggling to remember what the conversation was about.
‘A marriage in name only.’
‘Oh, that.’ She was pleased her voice sounded so level. ‘That seems...fair.’
His gaze narrowed. ‘Fair? I thought you might have more to say about it, quite frankly.’
Of course, he’d be expecting her to argue. And not to do so at least a little would seem suspicious.
You did so well with that last night.
Stella ignored the thought. Last night was last night. She could start by being conciliatory now. And, even though a marriage in name only obviously wasn’t going to work, coming on too strong too soon would again arouse his suspicions.
‘Is there any point saying anything?’ she asked after a moment. ‘You’ve obviously made up your mind. I would think I wouldn’t get a say, correct?’
Dante’s gaze sharpened. ‘Do you want a say?’
‘I suppose if a wedding is going to happen then I might want some input, plus I would like to help decide where we’re going to live.’
He’d gone very still, watching her.
It made her nervous. Made her want to fuss around with the sheet to cover it.
‘You’re taking this very well,’ he commented at last.
‘Did you really expect me to fight?’ She made herself meet his gaze, to show him she had nothing to hide. ‘I don’t have anywhere else to go, it’s true, which means that staying here with you makes sense for the baby’s sake. The marriage part of it seems extreme, however.’ If she was going to put up a fight about anything to allay his suspicions, it needed to be that.
‘It makes things easier from a legal standpoint and will also give the child some protection from your family.’
A little shock jolted her. ‘My family?’
‘They sent you to kill me, kitten,’ he reminded her gently. ‘Which means I do not want them anywhere near my child.’
She blinked. Of course. What was wrong with her? Her parents would no doubt have a reaction to her pregnancy and she knew already that it wouldn’t be good. Her father would be appalled. He’d see it as an example of her weakness, her terrible flaw.
‘I see,’ she said blankly. She should probably protest that their child had nothing to fear from the Montefiores, but she couldn’t say for certain that it didn’t. Her father would do anything if he thought it would better their family.
‘I’m sure you do.’ Dante eyed her a second longer, then pushed himself away from the doorframe and straightened. ‘You’ll no doubt have some questions at some point. In the meantime, I’ll be arranging a doctor’s appointment for you.’
A doctor’s appointment. A family home. Marriage...
The hungry black void inside her ached, sending a current of longing spiralling through her bloodstream. But she dismissed it.
All those things weren’t going to happen. Because she was going to make Dante Cardinali fall for her. Care for her. And maybe let him think that she cared for him too. Then she would take all that away.
Perhaps starting that slowly was a mistake. Perhaps she should start making him fall for her sooner rather than later. Use the chemistry between them while it was still strong. Say...tonight, for example.
Dante’s dark eyes scanned her face. ‘You have something to say?’
‘No.’ Stella met his gaze, cold and hard and certain. ‘Nothing.’
Yes, tonight. She’d start tonight.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DANTE SAT BACK on the big, white linen-covered couch and frowned at the laptop on the coffee table in front of him. He’d called one of his assistants that morning to send through a list of possible family properties, and he’d spent most of the day going through that list, viewing each one online to see whether any were worth visiting. There were a couple of likely looking candidates and he’d already got his assistant to make the arrangements for a viewing time.
He probably should have got Stella’s thoughts on them but, now he’d decided what he wanted to do about the situation he’d found himself in, he wanted to move fast. With no half-measures either.
If he was going to claim his child and create the family he’d never had, then he was going to go all the way. He would marry Stella and buy a house where they would all live together as a family.
After all, it had worked for Enzo, so why wouldn’t it work for him?
That way he could make sure his child had the best start in life, unlike himself.
He had thought Stella would baulk at the idea but, as he wasn’t going to be moved on the decision, he’d decided to make it more palatable and less complicated by making it a marriage in name only. They didn’t love each other and, besides, sex wasn’t something he needed from her specifically; he could find physical satisfaction elsewhere.
She seemed in agreement, which in retrospect was odd, as challenging him appeared to be what she liked to do best. But he decided not to allow himself to think too deeply about it. Her agreement was all he required and she’d given it to him.
Of course, it had been a bit difficult to think about anything while she’d been sitting there draped in nothing but a sheet, looking all warm, sleepy and sexy.
Dante scowled at the laptop screen as his groin hardened, memories of the night before making him catch his breath.
Marriage in name only? Are you sure?
He forced the desire away. Of course he was sure. He could get sex anywhere. It didn’t have to be with her. And certainly not, given how intense the sex had been between them. Because for this arrangement to work the focus had to be on the child, not each other. He didn’t want...complications.
And if she wanted to get sex from somewhere else?
Then she could. As long as she was discreet, what did it matter to him?
Yet the thought made his jaw harden and tension coil inside him, the possessiveness he’d felt about her the night before returning and sinking sharp claws into him. And for some reason he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d reached for his hand, her fingers holding onto him, not wanting him to leave. Almost as if she’d needed him...
His chest constricted, an insistence pulling at him, and he had the horrible suspicion that in fact it would matter to him if she got sex from somewhere else. And that he would not like it one little bit.
There came a soft sound from one end of the room and he lifted his head sharply to find Stella standing in the doorway to the living area.
She had one of the plush, white towelling
hotel robes wrapped around her slight figure, her golden hair cascading in a straight, gleaming fall of gold over her shoulders, and there was a strangely hesitant look on her lovely face.
He made a mental note to get one of his assistants to look into getting some clothes for her, as she had nothing but the jeans and ripped T-shirt that she’d been wearing when he’d taken her from the apartment.
Her gaze met his, something he didn’t recognise moving in the depths of her blue eyes. A kind of agitation.
He hadn’t seen her since that morning, having let her have some space to process what he’d told her while he’d got on with viewing houses and making arrangements. But maybe that had been a mistake. Was she having second thoughts?
‘Good evening, kitten.’ He pushed the laptop closed and gave her his full attention, studying her face. ‘Is there something wrong?’
‘No, not at all. I just...wondered what was happening for dinner.’ Her gaze flickered away from his before coming back again, as if she didn’t want to hold it for long.
How odd.
‘I see.’ He put his hands on the couch in preparation for rising to his feet and going over to her. ‘Then perhaps—’
‘Oh no, don’t get up,’ she interrupted hurriedly, taking a few quick steps toward him. ‘Is that the menu I see? I’ll come and sit next to you.’
He stared at her in surprise as she closed the distance between them, sidling around the coffee table and sitting down beside him. She looked meaningfully at the menu sitting on top of the coffee table. ‘Can I...have a look at that, please?’
She was very close, her thigh brushing his, and he was very aware that the white robe gaped at the neck, giving him a glimpse of bare, pink skin.
Underneath, she appeared to be naked.
Desire welled up inside him, thick and hot and demanding, and he suddenly wanted to pull the tie at her waist and uncover all those silky curves, bare her to his touch. She smelled of the shower gel he’d used the night before, a fresh scent, along with something feminine and musky that made his mouth water.
Claiming His One-Night Child Page 10
