The Italian's Pregnancy Proposal. Maggie Cox

front entrance to the apartment in Chelsea Harbour, Bliss determinedly reached down inside herself for some fresh courage, flicked an imaginary speck of dust from the sleeve of her short leather jacket, then, without further ado, pressed the button on the intercom.

      ’Ciao!’

      ‘Mr di Andrea? It’s Bliss Maguire.’

      ‘Wait a minute, will you?’

      Even though he’d answered the intercom, she was unprepared for the sight of Dante di Andrea with a serious-faced toddler hoisted on his hip, answering the door with what looked like a very strained smile. Noting some kind of cereal congealing on the front of his beautiful white shirt where the lovely Renata had obviously decided to share her breakfast with her uncle, Bliss seriously struggled to prevent the twitching of her lips into becoming a full-blown grin. She was pretty sure Dante would not appreciate it. But even though he was a little less than immaculate this morning, with his arresting green eyes and darkly brooding male beauty, the man could still engender a small riot of appreciation from the opposite sex just by walking down the street.

      ‘Hello. Clearly a fan of oatmeal, I see. Shall I take her?’ Adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, Bliss reached out for Renata. When the child willingly went into her arms, Dante murmured something in Italian that could have been either surprise or relief or both. ‘Come in, Miss Maguire. You have not arrived a moment too soon.’

      The apartment was lovely—flooded with natural light, with maple wood floors and some very tasteful antiques that Bliss knew would have to look out once Renata really started getting into her stride. Leading her to a pair of long low leather couches with a glass coffee-table with wrought-iron legs positioned between them, Dante bade his visitor sit down. ‘I will change my shirt, then I will be back.’ With a wary glance at the little girl who was coiling her chubby fingers into Bliss’s shoulder-length dark hair with obvious fascination, he went out of the door again and left them alone.

      Bliss occupied herself with amusing the child while she waited for Dante to return, her heart rate a little calmer now that she didn’t have to contend with glancing into those daunting green eyes. Lifting Renata onto her hip, she strolled across the wide expanse of beautiful maple floor to the window, gazing out at the vista of yachts and cruisers bobbing on the water with a soft sigh of appreciation.

      ‘What a lovely view you have, Renny. Aren’t you a lucky little girl?’ Then immediately remembering that the child’s father was dead, Bliss silently cursed her own tactlessness. But Renata was smiling up at her with those big innocent brown eyes, totally unaware of any dilemma, her chubby cheeks dimpling adorably as Bliss smiled back at her. Unable to resist, Bliss dropped a small butterfly kiss at the side of her pretty rosebud mouth and sighed.

      ‘It was good of you to come, but where is your suitcase? I understood from our telephone conversation that you were coming to stay.’

      He was sporting another immaculate white shirt with his tailored black trousers, his dark hair glistening with blue-black lights as fiercely as a midnight sky with the light of the moon reflected on it. Looking vaguely perplexed, he focused his gaze with concern on Bliss.

      ‘I thought I’d bring my things over later. I wanted to come and talk to you first about the…about the arrangements.’ Her voiced trailed off because she was suddenly struck by acute self-consciousness in the intimidating presence of Dante di Andrea. Much more so than she had previously anticipated. She’d dressed in well-worn jeans and a fitted black tee shirt beneath her leather jacket—casual clothes she was comfortable in—only all of a sudden she had doubts about what was expected. Was she too casual? In view of the effortlessly stylish and handsome man in front of her, she couldn’t help but feel decidedly underdressed. Scruffy, even.

      Dante was silently casting his eyes over Bliss’s considerable slender curves in her tight jeans and tee shirt, musing that she resembled a young Claudia Cardinale with her wide-spaced brows, beautiful eyes and unknowingly sexy smile. For a moment her beauty distracted him. He wouldn’t be true to his blood if he didn’t notice and appreciate a beautiful woman, but it had been a while since he’d experienced the fierce heat of arousal simply by gazing at one. Sensing the smouldering fire of attraction stirring in his loins as he stared at her, he thought how soft and inviting her rich dark hair looked floating loose against her shoulders and how much he would enjoy the privilege of touching it and letting it slide through his fingers.

      ‘I didn’t know…wasn’t sure what to wear. I’m probably unrecognisable without all that make-up, aren’t I? It’s unfortunate, but they make you put it on with a trowel if you work on the beauty counter. I can’t wait to take it off most days.’

      As Bliss’s almost breathless voice petered out Dante forced himself to concentrate his thoughts more appropriately. He couldn’t afford to start lusting after the woman he had reached out to for help with Renata and her mother, no matter how aroused she made him feel. That would not be appropriate at all under the circumstances. He was a businessman, a hotelier with a respected reputation, and he wanted to show this young Englishwoman that she could trust him when he was around her.

      ‘You look fine.’ He wanted to tell her that beauty like hers would win her many admirers even without the dubious aid of make-up. In the end he curtailed his natural inclination and decided not to make things more awkward by complimenting her. As a result his tone was perhaps more curt than he meant it to be. ‘I am learning that one cannot be concerned about protecting one’s clothes when there is a little one around. The more casual you are, the better.’

      ‘You’re right.’ Smiling back at him, Bliss couldn’t deny her relief. She wasn’t exactly looking for his approval of her appearance, but it was nice to know that he didn’t think it might mean her level of commitment was as casual as her clothes. ‘Would you like me to clean her up? Wash Renny’s face and hands for her?’

      ‘I will show you to a bathroom.’ Dante’s smile was brief and all too quickly gone. Once more Bliss detected strain behind the gesture. It reminded her of the reason she was there. ‘How is your sister today?’

      ‘She is sleeping right now, because she did not have a good night. She was restless with weeping.’ His bronze skin seemed to turn momentarily pale and Bliss experienced an unexpected tug on her heartstrings. ‘The doctor is coming out to her in a little while to give her a check-up. When you have cleaned up the baby we will talk business, sì?’

      Sensing he was much more comfortable with discussing something of a less personal nature than his sister’s well-being, Bliss followed him out into the corridor and into an exquisitely marbled bathroom that looked as if it belonged to some Hollywood movie star instead of a young, recently widowed single mum. Gesturing towards some shelves stacked high with perfectly folded, freshly laundered white towels, Dante lingered in the doorway as Bliss ran hot and cold water into a marble basin with Renata happily chattering baby talk into her ear.

      ‘Everything you need should be here. If there is something you cannot find, just ask.’

      He seemed to hesitate as his glance drank his fill of the charming picture of tender domesticity that she and his niece made together, and Bliss felt her cheeks suddenly burn beneath his unsettling scrutiny. ‘What is it?’ she asked, violet eyes wary.

      ‘You are so natural with the baby. I am thinking that you perhaps grew up with lots of brothers and sisters, sì?’

      ‘No.’ Smiling as she dipped a face-cloth into the warm water, then squeezed it out, Bliss sat Renata down on the high chrome stool beside the sink and carefully and lovingly started to clean up the little girl’s breakfast-stained face. ‘Just the opposite, in fact. I’m actually an only child. I’ve just always loved children.’

      ‘But you are not married?’

      ‘No.’ Briefly glancing up at the frown currently drawing his dark brows together, Bliss shook her head. ‘And neither do I intend to be. Marriage doesn’t interest me much, Mr di Andrea. As far as I’m concerned all marriage does is engender false hope in a happy outcome that very rarely manifests itself.’

      Dante’s frown grew