He felt his flesh could burst open to admit her into his heart.
Gripping her waist, he manoeuvred them both so she straddled his lap and her legs were wrapped around his waist.
Their lips locked together, he placed a hand flat on her back and laid her back gently, the tip of his burning arousal finding the place it so badly needed to be. Then he entered her, slowly, tenderly until he was burrowed deep inside her tight heat.
The sensations that enveloped him threatened to make him come in an instant and he had to grit his teeth to keep himself in check. Only when he was certain he had himself under control did he start moving.
But, Dio, every long thrust built the sensation up to unimaginable levels, every moan and pant from her lips, every scratch of her nails, all combined to make him lose himself in the rapture that was Natasha.
Only when the moans breathing into his mouth deepened and the hand holding onto his buttock gripped tightly and he felt her thicken around him did he finally let himself go with a groan that came from the very centre of his being, plunging so deeply into her that he no longer knew where he ended and she began.
When the explosive pulsations inside him had dulled to a gentle buzz he shifted his weight a little so as not to crush her.
Immediately her arms tightened around him and she raised her face to bury it in his neck.
‘If you regret what we just did tell me now so I can prepare myself before I have to look at you again,’ she whispered into his skin.
His chest contorting to remember how he’d reacted in the immediate aftermath of their first time together, he held her securely in his arms and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. ‘No regrets,’ he whispered back, stroking her hair.
How could he regret that? Something that special could never be looked on with regret.
Her small hand groped for his and squeezed and she nuzzled into his chest with a sigh. ‘I don’t regret it either.’
‘Good.’ He brought her hand to his lips to kiss it. ‘No regrets.’
‘No regrets,’ she echoed.
CHAPTER NINE
THEY STAYED IN bed until the sun began its descent. They’d made love again and, just as she drifted off, he asked if she was hungry. The mention of hunger was enough to make Natasha’s stomach growl and remind her that they’d skipped the lunch he’d promised her.
He laughed and got out of bed. What looked like an ordinary wall had turned out to be a walk-in wardrobe. He disappeared into it, reappearing with a pair of tan shorts on, leaned over to kiss her firmly and said he was going to call a chef from the staff quarters to make them something.
Happy to have a few minutes alone to relive every beautiful moment in her head, Natasha burrowed her face into his pillow seeking his scent.
Making love to Matteo the first time had been an explosion that had detonated itself. This time it had been...
It had been incredible. He’d been so passionate and yet so tender. There had been a connection between them she could never have put into words but it filled her heart with such hope.
But hopes of what? A future together? Him and her and baby makes three?
She grabbed his pillow and pulled it over her head.
One incredible afternoon in bed together did not make a future. It just made complications and there were enough complications in her life for her to be getting on with.
That didn’t stop her waiting impatiently for his return.
When twenty minutes passed without him coming back to the room, concern began to nibble at her. Fishing in the pile of discarded clothes for her dress, she slipped it over her head, intent on searching for him. But no sooner had she stepped out of the room than apprehension suddenly suffused her.
What if he’d left the bedroom and become filled with recriminations again? What if she’d been lying in his bed waiting for his return while he’d been overcome with angry remorse and was trying to think of a way to kick her out and back to the guesthouse?
What if she’d been lying on his bed feeling that she’d slipped into a blissful dream and he’d come to the conclusion that he’d slipped into a nightmare?
She found him in the vast living space she’d been so enamoured with in her first visit there. He was sitting at the table, his long legs stretched out before him, talking on his phone.
He gave an apologetic smile and held out a hand to her.
Her relief was almost dizzying.
It was also terrifying.
She let her fingers drift to touch his and took the seat beside him, her heart thumping madly, her palms suddenly clammy.
Making love like they had had changed everything.
His eyes fixed on her, he continued his conversation, his Italian too rapid-fire for her to keep up. She’d never mastered the language, another regret in her life. It had such a beautiful cadence to it and in the days when she and Matteo had been planning a future together, she’d imagined him teaching her his language.
It had never occurred to her to ask Pieta.
When the call was over, Matteo put his phone on the table. ‘That was Daniele. He wants to go back to Caballeros with me at the end of next week.’
She closed her eyes. All the euphoria of their lovemaking, which even her panic about Matteo finding regrets hadn’t been able to fully quash, left her. ‘Next week? And we’ll go to Pisa after?’
‘Yes. Next Friday. I’ll charter a plane for you and meet you there. It makes more sense than me flying back to Miami to collect you.’
Natasha felt the panic welling up in her and fought hard to stifle it. ‘At least that gives us almost two weeks to prepare. Do you think he has any suspicions about us yet?’
Saying the word ‘us’ felt different from all the other times she’d said it. This time it felt real.
‘Daniele takes things at face value so I doubt it.’
She mustered a smile. ‘I never got to know him that well. Not like I did Francesca and Vanessa.’
‘You’re speaking of them in the past tense.’
She met his eyes. ‘When they learn about us and the baby my relationship with them will be in the past.’
‘Yes. And so will mine.’ His admission was like a long, drawn out sigh but then he leaned forward in his chair and stroked her face, staring intently into her eyes. ‘There’s going to be a lot of pain but we will handle it together. You and me. I won’t let them hurt you.’
‘It’s not me I’m worried about.’
‘I know it isn’t.’ He brought his face close to hers. ‘We’ll get through this, okay?’
His lips brushed hers, a gentle, soothing caress that loosened a little of the anguish looping inside her at what they faced and the destruction they were going to cause.
Matteo’s words of comfort helped a little but did nothing to ease the guilt that cramped her at what he was going through or the guilt at what she was keeping from him.
A loud cough from the other side of the room broke the moment.
The youngest of Matteo’s chefs walked in carrying a tray with two plates covered in silver lids on it.
‘Thanks, Leon,’ Matteo said. ‘Sorry to impose on your night off.’
‘No worries. I’ll hang around in case you need anything else.’
‘If I need anything I’ll get it for myself. Take a couple of hundred from petty cash and take your girlfriend out.’
Leon’s face lit up. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Sure I’m sure. Pay for any cab on the staff account.’
Leon saluted and scarpered before Matteo could change his mind.
‘That was generous of you,’ Natasha said, finding she could smile again.
‘He was prepared to give up his night off. He’s the generous one. Now let’s see what we have.’ He leaned over the table and lifted the lid off her plate and then the lid off his own to reveal plates heaped with thick-cut English-style chips and thick club sandwiches that managed to be artfully presented.
‘You remembered,’ she
said in delight.
‘I’m like an elephant.’ He winked. ‘In more ways than one. And eating here rather than by the docks guarantees your chips won’t be stolen by seagulls.’
She couldn’t help but laugh.
‘That’s better,’ he said approvingly before his features became serious. ‘I know it’s going to be hard but there’s no point in worrying about what’s going to happen when we tell them. It’s beyond our control. We’ll deal with it when the time comes.’
Knowing he was right, she picked up her sandwich and bit into it. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said when she’d swallowed the second bite down. And it was lovely. How could it not be? He employed world-class chefs who could make an ordinary sandwich taste as if it had been touched by magic. Everything he owned was the best.
A few minutes later Matteo had wolfed his plate clean and sat back lazily to watch her eat.
As if her eyes were magnets drawn to him, she was helpless to stop from staring back at him.
When she couldn’t manage another bite she pushed her plate to one side and took a sip of the juice he’d poured for her.
‘You’ve had enough?’ he asked.
She nodded.
‘Can I get you any dessert?’
‘Can you cook?’
‘No.’ He grinned. ‘I can get one of the local restaurants to deliver.’
She laughed. ‘Honestly, I’m full.’
Just as he was about to lean in for another kiss, his phone vibrated across the shiny surface of the table.
Matteo debated ignoring it but knew he couldn’t.
That’s what came of having a business that spanned the globe, he thought ruefully, swiping to read the message that had come in. Your time was rarely your own.
Today had been an exception, one he felt he should make a regular thing. He rarely worked evenings but his days were always full.
‘It’s from Francesca,’ he said, reading the message. ‘She wants to know how I’m getting on with equipment and staffing levels for the hospital.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I would have thought her new fiancé would have distracted her from ordering everyone around.’
Her answering grin showed she knew there was no malice behind his observation of his bossy cousin.
‘How are you getting on with it?’ As she asked, Natasha topped both their glasses up with more juice.
‘I’ve ordered most of the equipment but I’m coming up short on the staff.’ Matteo had promised to send his own medical staff to work there for a month to get the hospital up and running, giving them time to recruit permanent medical staff and train local Caballerons to do the auxiliary work.
‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘I don’t know. I’m offering incentives but...’
‘Nobody wants to work in such a dangerous country even if Aguadilla and the Dominican Republic are close enough to fly to,’ she finished. She scrunched her nose and looked at him. ‘Did you really expect it to be any different?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You employ doctors and nurses who’ve turned their backs on healing patients. They’re hardly humanitarian sorts.’
‘My staff are healers,’ he refuted. ‘They’re dedicated professionals.’
‘They’re professionals,’ she conceded. ‘But if they ever had ideals they’ve traded them for money. Your clinics are specifically tailored for the filthy rich. Your surgeons are some of the top earning professionals in the world.’
He hated that she was right. He hated that she must put him in the same bracket. He hated that she was right to.
Like him, the surgeons he employed had paid their dues in the long years of their residencies. Like him, they and the other clinicians he employed had gone into medicine for noble reasons.
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as if she was thinking. ‘What kind of incentives are you offering? More money, like Daniele’s done with his construction staff?’
‘Yes. I offered to double their salaries.’
‘Forget the money. You want to go for their egos.’
‘What do you mean?’
Although she’d only minutes ago declared herself full, she helped herself to a cold chip from her half-empty plate. ‘Tell them there will be lots of media at the opening of the hospital like there is when you open a new clinic, and that there’s a good chance they’ll be interviewed about it and that the world will laud them for their self-sacrifice and humanity. I bet they’ll rip your arm off to go there if they think they could make the cover of a magazine off the back of it.’
He shook his head and bit back a laugh. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.’
‘So you think that could work to incentivise them?’ She looked rather stunned, as if she hadn’t thought her idea would pass muster.
‘It’s a great idea. I’ve got lots of contacts in the media; we should get in touch with them and get some interest going.’
‘I can do that. I did promise Francesca I would take care of the publicity for it and until now I’ve barely thought about it.’
‘I’ll get a list together for you. I warn you, it’s a long list so you might find it easier to work from my study.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Really? You wouldn’t mind me working in there?’
‘Why should I? Most of my contacts are involved with the fashion and film industry side of the media so it’s unlikely to interest them, but they should be able to give you other contacts to speak to about it.’
‘Why are your contacts from the fashion and film world?’
‘Because the people who come to my clinics and use my skincare range are generally people seeking to emulate what they see on the catwalk and the big screen, whether it’s by buying a fifty-thousand-dollar handbag or making improvements to their skin.’ He saw the flicker of distaste wrinkle her nose and added, ‘That’s not all we do, although I can appreciate why you would think it is. When I opened my first clinic I deliberately targeted that market, but the work we do, it’s not all breast lifts and tummy tucks and people who want a new nose for cosmetic reasons. We also deal with cancer survivors; women who’ve had mastectomies and come to us because they know we’ll reconstruct their breasts to look so natural that no one would know they weren’t real, people who’ve lost half their noses because of a malignant mole...all sorts of people. It’s not all vanity.
‘But I do employ the best and I pay them accordingly and charge my clients accordingly for it. We’ve grown quickly and gained a reputation as the best for a reason—because we are the best at what we do. Yes, my staff have enormous egos but they earned them. They worked as hard as I did to become as skilled as they are now, and now they’re reaping the rewards for all the dedication and commitment they gave for all those years.’
Her eyes never left his face while he explained the facts of the situation, delivered because of a compulsion for her to understand.
When he was done a wry smile played on her lips. ‘I’m sorry if I came across as judgemental.’
‘Don’t be,’ he urged. He took her hand and kissed it. ‘I meant what I said. Always be honest with me. Always tell me the truth. I don’t know what’s happening between us. I don’t know if there ever will be an “us” in the real sense of the word but I know we owe it to ourselves and our child to explore it and see if it leads anywhere, but that can’t happen unless we trust each other. I want to trust you, bella.’
‘I trust you,’ she admitted in a whisper, those vivid blue eyes huge. He thought he detected fear in them.
What did she have to be fearful about...?
‘But what if it doesn’t work?’ she continued in that same low voice. ‘What if the past—’
‘Then we deal with it,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘The past is done. It’s the future—our future, our baby’s future—that matters. We can make a whole list of what-ifs but neither of us knows what the future holds.’ He took a long breath, unable to believe he was having these thoughts and having this conv
ersation with the woman he had so recently despised with every fibre of his being.
But he didn’t hate her any more, and as he was the one demanding complete openness and honesty, he had to be honest with himself and admit that his feelings for her had consumed him since the day he’d first set eyes on her. One way or another, she had always been with him.
‘Let’s just take it a day at a time.’
‘One day at a time?’
‘One day at a time.’
Her answer was to shift onto his lap, wrap her arms around him and kiss him.
* * *
The most delicious swirling sensation was happening on Natasha’s belly. It took a few moments to realise she wasn’t in the middle of a dream.
Slowly she opened her eyes to find Matteo propped on an elbow looking at her and trailing his fingers over her naked stomach.
His lips curved into the sensual smile that made her heart skip before he leaned down to brush a kiss on her mouth.
‘What time is it?’ she asked sleepily. The sun was up but the light filtering into the bedroom was still hazy.
‘Seven.’
‘Shouldn’t you be gone?’ He had a full day of surgery booked in at his clinic and then he was flying to Los Angeles to conduct interviews for a new general manager for one of his stores in the morning. He’d promised to be back in time to take her out to dinner tomorrow night.
In the week since they’d become lovers it would be the first time she’d slept without him.
In four days he would fly to Caballeros.
In five days they would be facing the music.
‘I should, yes.’ He brushed another kiss to her lips. ‘Something much more important caught my attention.’
‘Oh?’
He circled one of her breasts with his forefinger. ‘I was looking at the changes the pregnancy’s made to your body.’
‘And?’ She was barely three months but the changes were there.
‘And they’re beautiful.’
‘Will you still think that when I’m waddling like a duck and covered in stretch marks?’ she asked, trying to make her voice jokey, not wanting to admit her fear that the coming changes would be enough to turn him off her.
Claiming His One-Night Baby Page 11
