Married For The Italian's Heir. Rachael Thomas

long. Long enough to turn my world on its head. If she thought she could just walk away now, she’d got it all wrong.

      He sprang from the seat. ‘You are not going anywhere except to my apartment—with me.’

      ‘That is totally unnecessary,’ she said, and pulled the somewhat battered bag, which bore no resemblance to the designer bags his women usually had, onto her shoulder. She moved towards the door and once again he found himself needing to stop this woman from leaving.

      ‘We are lovers, are we not?’ He lowered his voice, smiling to see the blush which crept over her face at the way he spoke. ‘And if we are to be believed as such you will not stay in a budget hotel.’

      ‘How do you know it’s a budget hotel?’

      Indignation flared to life in her voice and her eyes and he knew he’d scored a point in this particular battle.

      ‘I merely assumed.’ He shrugged and looked at her, liking the way her lips pressed together tightly as she fought to hold back her retort. A fight she soon lost.

      ‘Well, don’t,’ she snapped at him, then lowered her gaze briefly before meeting his once more.

      ‘This is a business deal—one which will legitimise my child. A child that will be the heir to all I own. You will have every luxury, Piper, and my word that nothing else will happen between us.’

      * * *

      Piper gulped back the disappointment. Nothing else would happen between them. She should be pleased. It was exactly what she’d asked for, what she’d wanted, but a part of her ached with the pain of it. She wasn’t his type. The article in Celebrity Spy! had left her in no doubt of that. But the passion which had ravaged them that night in London must have meant something.

      ‘That is all I want,’ she lied, desperate that he wouldn’t detect even a hint of her dismay. She had to remain strong and firm. He couldn’t know she’d often thought of those few hours which had changed her life even before she’d known she was pregnant.

      ‘Va bene. It is settled. I will escort you to my apartment now—you look tired and in need of rest.’

      As he looked at her she could almost believe he was genuinely concerned, but to fall for such an idea would be her undoing and she had to remain strong.

      ‘I think it would be better if I booked into a hotel.’ Her words faded to a whisper at the black look on his handsome face, which appeared more severe due to the shadow of stubble he was sporting.

      ‘How can we be seen as lovers, about to become engaged, if you are not living in my apartment and, as far as the world is concerned, sleeping in my bed?’ He shrugged in that nonchalant way which had attracted her the first night she’d seen him. ‘It would not be very convincing, mia cara.’

      Piper pushed her fingers through her hair, trying to control the emotions which were running riot inside her. Emotions she knew full well were intensified by her pregnancy. Why did she feel so let down, so disillusioned? He’d offered to stand by her, support her financially, and most importantly to be a part of their child’s life even if he wasn’t a part of hers. So why was she fighting the urge to cry? She had what she’d come for—and more.

      She dragged in a sharp breath and looked up at him as he approached from her left side—her blind side—startling her when he touched her gently on her arm, as he had done several times already.

      ‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said softly.

      Too softly. Her urge to give in to tiredness and tears intensified.

      ‘Come. You need to rest. You must have left London at an early hour this morning.’

      She allowed herself to be guided to the office door, and with his arm lingering around her waist he walked to his secretary’s desk, issuing a flurry of Italian instructions which were met with curious gazes directed at her from the shocked older woman, unsettling her further. Was she so far below the kind of woman he usually dated that even his secretary was shocked?

      Everything seemed to take on a glow of unreality as he escorted her out of the offices and to a waiting car. Moments later they were ensconced in the car, moving quickly through the streets of Rome as car horns sounded insistently around them. She wanted to see the sights, but the ride in the car was making her feel unsteady, and all she could do was sit back in the soft leather seats.

      On her right, she felt Dante watching her. She could feel the scrutiny of his gaze and almost hear his unspoken questions. Everything about being with Dante again was unlocking all those emotions she’d hidden away as she’d left that hotel in the early hours.

      As she got out of the car the tall buildings of the old town towered over her and blocked out the winter sun. She looked up at an impressive building which must have seen many things through history, unable to believe what she’d agreed to.

      He took her bag from her. ‘This way. My apartment is on the top floor and offers stunning views of the city from the roof terrace. Have you been in Rome before?’

      The light and easy way he spoke was in complete contrast to the way her heart was thumping. What had she done to herself? What had she agreed to? Marriage, be it in name only or not, to a man she barely knew?

      ‘No. Europe always seemed too far from Australia to think of.’

      It had been a trip her mother had wanted to do. She’d tried to convince her father, but he’d never wanted to leave Australia, saying he didn’t need to go so far when he had all he needed at home. As he’d said those words he’d looked at her, and now Piper questioned if her mother’s need to return to England had been the start of their marriage problems.

      Dante held the front door open for her and she walked into the cool shade of the old building, trying to leave the memories and questions she’d never have answered outside.

      ‘Yet you were in London when we met?’

      ‘I’d only been there for a year. My mother wanted to return to her native country after...’ She floundered for a moment, thinking of the day her father had suddenly died. Exactly one year to the day when she’d met Dante. ‘My father was Australian, my mother British, and after he died she wanted to be with her elderly mother so we left Sydney. Sadly, Grandma passed away a few months ago.’

      Dante scrutinised her as he waited for the elevator and she wondered if her true feelings were showing clearly on her face, despite the calm and matter-of-fact way she’d imparted the story of her beloved father’s death.

      ‘And you were brought up in Sydney?’

      She was glad when the elevator doors opened, diverting his attention. She’d never known anything but Sydney. It was not only where she’d grown up, but where she’d been happiest. But all that had changed when her father had been killed in a car accident. The senseless accident had happened not even a year after he’d been told he was in remission from cancer. The injustice of it made her gulp back the tears which threatened.

      ‘Can’t you tell from the accent?’ She laughed off the pain of those memories, wanting to move the conversation away from her. This wasn’t about her any more. It was about what was best for the baby. Her father had stood by her mother when she’d fallen pregnant and they’d been happy together. But obviously it hadn’t been enough for her mother, because she’d started to make plans to return to London soon after the accident.

      ‘It’s a nice accent.’ He smiled at her and she wondered if he’d sensed her unease, but his next words obliterated that thought. ‘And very sexy too, when you are consumed by desire.’

      ‘You should keep such comments for the women you date.’

      The words left her before she could stop them, let alone think about what they meant to her. The thought of him dating other women made her heart heavy, but she had to push that aside. Their marriage was to be nothing more than a business deal.

      He walked from the elevator, pulling