Claiming His Scandalous Love-Child. Julia James

never expose Eloise to that!

      A surge of protectiveness went through him as a possibility occurred to him—not perfect, but at least doable.

      I’ll take her to Amalfi—she can stay there, waiting for me. I’ll explain why—ask for her patience, her trust, while I extricate myself from Marlene’s trap, give Carla time to see sanity. To come down from the hysterics she’s throwing all over the place!

      But, even though he knew that getting Eloise out of Rome was essential, a sense of impending loss assailed him. He didn’t want to park Eloise down on the coast—he didn’t want to part with her at all, not even for a short while! Pressure like a vice crushed his skull. Pressure from his uncle, who had willed away half the Viscari legacy, from Marlene, hell-bent on forcing his hand, from Carla, intent on hitting back at the man who’d spurned her, and from his father, who had bound him with an unbreakable chain of love and loyalty, and his mother, desperate for him to accept that chain around him.

      For an instant a vision flared in his mind—a vision so unbearably tempting he almost reached out his hand to seize it.

      He and Eloise, walking hand in hand along a tropical beach in the moonlight. The Caribbean waves kissing their bare feet in the warm surf. Far, far away from here—far, far away from all that assailed him now! Free, oh, blissfully free of it all!

      Let Marlene do her worst! Let her! Let his uncle’s damn shares pass out of the family.

      I could do it—I could let it happen. I could grab Eloise by the hand and fly away with her...leave all this behind me. Just be with her.

      The vision hung in his head like a jewel, and his longing to seize it was painful inside him. Then, as the vice around his skull tightened, he let the vision go. Dull, pitiless resignation filled him. He couldn’t run—he couldn’t abandon his duty, his responsibility.

      I have to see this out. It’s a battle I have to face—and find a way to win.

      Because one thing he was adamant about. Whatever price he was going to pay for Guido’s shares, it was never going to be marrying his uncle’s stepdaughter.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      ELOISE’S EXPRESSION OF delighted surprise at his arrival at their suite in mid-afternoon was a balm to Vito. As he caught her hands, lowering his mouth to her uplifted lips, he felt his spirits lift—as they always did when he saw her.

      ‘This is wonderful!’ she was exclaiming, her voice warm. ‘I didn’t expect you till this evening. I was about to go down to the pool. I’ve been out exploring this morning—I found the Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain!’

      Vito smiled, basking in the expression in her face, the open glow in her cerulean eyes. Oh, she might have to stay discreetly out of sight in Amalfi, but only for as short a time as he could manage.

      I’ll explain what I’ve got to do, and why, and she will understand. I know she will!

      He could trust her—he knew he could. Trust her to understand just what he was up against. He’d wanted to insulate her from all this mess around Guido’s shares, but now that he had no choice but to involve her he knew he could rely on her sympathy, her cooperation. On her patience in waiting for him finally to be free to focus only on her.

      He drew back, making some comment about her morning’s expedition, then shrugged his jacket from him, loosening his tie and turning up his cuffs. Keeping his voice as deliberately casual as he could, he said, ‘I’ve got some phone calls to make, but while I do throw a few things together.’ He smiled, his gaze caressing. ‘We’re going to spend the weekend in Amalfi!’