The Italian's Pregnancy Proposal. Maggie Cox

dropping chocolate buttons one by one into her laughing mouth. Dante had disappeared somewhere else in the apartment to make some phone calls, he’d told her, and so for now at least Bliss could relax. She was having fun with her small charge, relieved to be spending her time playing rather than working at a job she’d rapidly been growing to hate, and worrying about what she was going to do next.

      When she experienced a sudden tingling of awareness at the back of her neck, she realised that she and Renata were not alone. Quickly pushing up into a sitting position, she clasped the child firmly around her small waist and smilingly declined any more chocolate buttons. Then she gave her small charge a peck on the cheek and rose carefully to her feet, taking the little girl with her. Leaning an arm against the doorjamb, Dante stood in silent contemplation of them both.

      ‘You might have indicated you were there!’ Bliss said accusingly, unsettled by the fact that he’d been watching her when she hadn’t known it. Seemingly unconcerned by her outburst, Dante parted his lips in a surprisingly unperturbed smile.

      ‘Bliss, do you not know that to deny an Italian male the opportunity of gazing at such sublime beauty is like starving a deep-sea diver of oxygen?’

      Her embarrassed blush the same eye-catching hue as raspberry jam, Bliss took refuge in the sweet baby scent of the toddler in her arms rather than concentrate her attention on her uncle. ‘Yes, the baby is lovely. Of course you’re allowed to gaze at her. When she grows up she’s going to be a real heartbreaker, aren’t you, sugar? I only wished you’d warned me you were there. You took me by surprise, that’s all.’

      ‘I did not just mean the baby.’

      This time Bliss did drag her gaze back to Dante and as his words lit up her insides like the fifth of November she silently warned herself of the folly of being flattered by them. Dante was Italian. Italian men were famous for their flirting—they learned it at their mother’s breast. He was only doing what came naturally and probably acted the same with all women whether they were nineteen or ninety. She most definitely shouldn’t take it personally.

      ‘Anyway…you look like you wanted to tell me something.’ Anxious to change the subject, she jiggled Renata up and down against her hip, deciding to concentrate purely on the child and only speak with Dante when she absolutely had to. That way he would see that she was completely professional about the job he had hired her to do and would not be seeking to ingratiate herself in any way with him.

      ‘I thought you might like to come in and say ciao to Tatiana. She is awake and wants to see you and little Renata.’

      Relieved more than she could say for such a timely intervention, Bliss nodded immediately. ‘I would like that very much. Thank you.’

      Tatiana Ward lay propped up against a pile of crisp white pillows, her shoulder-length dark hair left softly loose around her shoulders. Her face, devoid of make-up, was pale and fine-boned, her riveting sapphire eyes commanding both admiration and attention in their jewel-like intensity. As Bliss followed Dante into the lovely room with its calming décor and riverside views she saw Tatiana pull up the embroidered cream counterpane over her blue silk nightdress and knew that she wasn’t the only one who was nervous about being introduced. Murmuring something in Italian for his sister’s ears alone, Dante leaned across to place a small kiss at the side of her head and Bliss saw Tatiana reach out briefly to squeeze his hand as if to thank him for his support. Then she lifted her gaze to Bliss and held out her arms for her little daughter to come to her.

      Bliss immediately passed Renata over, taking the bag of chocolate buttons and laying them on the lacquered Chinese cabinet beside the bed, her heart swelling at the sight of mother and child holding each other close. Then, almost shyly, Renata pulled away to sit up in her mother’s lap, grinning disarmingly up at the new female who had appeared in her life.

      ‘You are very kind to help me, Bliss. When I saw you behind the beauty counter I thought to myself that you had a kind face. Compassionevole, sì?’ She glanced at the tall, commanding figure of her brother standing beside the bed as if searching for confirmation.

      ‘Sì.’ Dante disarmed Bliss with a studied little smile. ‘Compassionate.’

      ‘I was glad to help. Please, think no more of it. How are you feeling today?’

      ‘Tired. I cannot seem to get my body to do what I want it to do. You must think that I am not a very good mother, Bliss, when I cannot even care for my little one.’

      Her brilliant blue eyes clouded over with despair and tears quivered on her curling dark lashes like crystalline pearls. Not giving her actions a second thought, Bliss dropped down on the side of the bed beside Tatiana and gently stroked her arm. ‘You are grieving, Tatiana. You have every right to feel tired and depleted and that certainly doesn’t make you a bad mother! All you need is some tender loving care and some time to heal. I will stay and help as long as you need me—that’s a promise.’

      ‘Grazie. I am very lucky to have found you. It is clear my daughter is quite at home with you. It does my heart good to know that.’

      At that moment, Dante was privately echoing his sister’s feelings on the matter. When he saw Bliss reach out to comfort his sister, as if giving solace to others was a natural and integral part of her make-up, he couldn’t stem the tide of pleasure and need that pulsed through him at the sight of her small, perfect hand against Tatiana’s arm. So much so, he almost wished it were him she was administering to. What was it about this pretty English girl with her mercurial violet eyes that tugged on his affections and desire more than any woman he’d known in ages? He’d barely been acquainted with her for five minutes and yet he was craving her attention like a lovesick teenager pining after the prettiest girl in the classroom. With a colossal effort he banished such thoughts as well as he could, knowing his first priority was to his sister and her little daughter. As soon as his mother arrived from Milan, Dante would go back to his work and put every thought of the arresting Bliss Maguire far from his mind.

      But as Bliss returned to the living room later on that evening after bathing Renata and putting her to bed Dante’s hungry gaze followed her slim, denim-clad figure with unapologetic thirst, a quiet but explosive tension criss-crossing his taut midsection and making his body too unsettled to sit. Her feet were tantalisingly bare and the sweet tip-tilted curves of her breasts beneath her tight black tee shirt were all too evident to his appreciative male gaze. As she moved fluidly across to one of the couches, picked up a satin cushion and sat down with it clutched to her chest Dante was perturbed at how forcibly desire banished every single thought in his head except his very primeval need to make love to her.

      ‘Your niece is fast asleep. Poor little thing just couldn’t stay awake. Don’t worry if she wakes in the night—I’ll easily hear her from the room next door.’

      For a long moment words were a commodity that Dante could no longer count on. Her eyes were so ravishing and her voice so soft that he was caught up in the spell of her. Pushing out of his chair, he stood by the armchair he had just vacated, the tension in him totally annihilating the possibility of keeping still right then. Mamma mia! What was this woman doing to him? He had hired her to help with Renny—not become an object of his suddenly unquenchable lust!

      ‘Dante?’

      ‘I hope she will not wake and that you will get a good night’s rest. I have become only too aware that looking after children is very tiring. In a good way, of course, but still tiring.’

      His concern warmed Bliss more than it had a right to. ‘It must also take a lot out of you, doing what you do.’ Her interest in this man overriding her vow to keep as professionally distant as possible, she hugged the cream satin cushion to her breast and waited for him to answer.

      ‘Being a hotelier is not hard.’ Shrugging one wide muscular shoulder beneath his white shirt, Dante didn’t seem to consider it to be that big a deal. But running, not just one, but several international hotels must require a lot of business acumen as well as flair and dedication, Bliss imagined. Either he was being overly modest, or he simply had so much talent and ability that he didn’t view problems in that arena as other people might. Observing