The Marciano Love-Child. Melanie Milburne

      She glared at him in affront. ‘You think you can afford me, Alessandro?’

      His cynical smile cut through her like a scalpel. ‘You can name your price, Scarlett. I will pay it to have you in my arms again. And, yes, I can afford you—’ his dark gaze raked her mercilessly ‘—easily.’

      Melanie Milburne says: ‘I am married to a surgeon, Steve, and have two gorgeous sons, Paul and Phil. I live in Hobart, Tasmania, where I enjoy an active life as a long-distance runner and a nationally ranked top ten Master’s swimmer. I also have a Master’s Degree in Education, but my children totally turned me off the idea of teaching! When not running or swimming I write, and when I’m not doing all of the above I’m reading. And if someone could invent a way for me to read during a four-kilometre swim I’d be even happier!’

       Recent titles by the same author:

      INNOCENT WIFE, BABY OF SHAME

       ANDROLETTI’S MISTRESS

       WILLINGLY BEDDED, FORCIBLY WEDDED

       BOUGHT FOR HER BABY

       BEDDED AND WEDDED FOR REVENGE

       THE VIRGIN’S PRICE

       THE SECRET BABY BARGAIN

       The Royal House of Niroli:

      SURGEON PRINCE, ORDINARY WIFE (Book 2)

      Did you know that Melanie also writes for Medical™ Romance?

      THE SURGEON BOSS’S BRIDE

       HER MAN OF HONOUR

       IN HER BOSS’S SPECIAL CARE

       A DOCTOR BEYOND COMPARE

       A SURGEON WORTH WAITING FOR

      The Marciano Love-Child

      Melanie Milburne

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Dedicated to Jocey Anderson, Sue Mayne

       and Katrina Henry, three wonderful members

       of Talays Aussi Master’s Swimming team,

       who have bought each and every one of my books

       so far. Thank you for being such faithful supporters

       both in and out of the pool.

       Happy reading and swimming!

      CHAPTER ONE

      IT HAD started just like any other Monday morning. Scarlett dropped three-year-old Matthew, at crèche after the usual tearful and heart-wrenching ‘don’t leave me, I miss you too much’ routine, before fighting her way through heavy traffic to her small interior-design studio in Woollahra. And just like any other Monday morning her business partner and best friend, Roxanne Hartley, handed her a double-strength latte on her way in the door and asked her how her weekend had been.

      ‘Don’t ask,’ Scarlett said wearily, and took a reviving sip of the creamy latte.

      ‘So I take it the blind date your sister set up for you wasn’t a success?’ Roxanne said as she perched on the edge of Scarlett’s desk.

      Scarlett rolled her eyes expressively. ‘Depends what you mean by a blind date. Clearly this guy’s idea was to turn up blind drunk. He slurred his way through his sob story about his ex-wife for an hour and a half, until I finally managed to escape.’

      ‘Poor you,’ Roxanne said in empathy. ‘But don’t give up yet. There’s got to be someone decent out there for you.’

      ‘Decent would be good,’ Scarlett said, booting up her computer. ‘A good father-figure for Matthew would be good, too, but as soon as men hear I have a three-year-old son they seem to lose interest.’

      ‘Yes, well, men today can be so shallow,’ Roxanne agreed. ‘They won’t commit, and they want sex on tap.’

      ‘Tell me about it,’ Scarlett said as she clicked on her computer mouse to activate the screen to check her list of appointments. She put her glasses on and blinked, once, twice, three times, her heart giving a quick, hard thud when she saw that name staring back at her.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ Roxanne asked in a guileless tone.

      Scarlett swivelled her chair to look up at her business partner, her face going pale with shock. ‘You made an appointment for me to meet with Alessandro Marciano?’ she choked.

      Roxanne grinned at her excitedly. ‘Yes. I wanted it to be a surprise, otherwise I would have called you over the weekend to tell you about it. He phoned on Friday afternoon just after you’d left. It’s a huge contract, Scarlett. He’s worth zillions, and if we get the deal think of what it will do for us. We’ll be featured in every interior-design magazine across the globe. We won’t have to pay rent any more, we’ll be able to buy the building, no—’ She clasped her hands together in glee and added, ‘—we’ll be able to buy the whole street!’

      Scarlett sprang to her feet, almost spilling her latte over her keyboard in the process. ‘I’m not seeing him,’ she said through tight lips. ‘I don’t want the contract. I want nothing to do with it.’

      Roxanne slapped the side of her head as if she couldn’t believe what she had just heard. ‘Have you happened to look at our financial statements recently?’ she asked as she slipped down off the desk. ‘Come on, Scarlett, our business loan is stretched to the limit, you know it is. I know things are often a bit slow in January, while everyone is still on summer holidays, but this is a chance in a lifetime. This is just what we need right now. Alessandro Marciano has bought the old Arlington Hotel building in the city. He’s going to turn it into a luxury hotel, with three floors of penthouse apartments for the super rich. And he wants us to do the interior design. Us! Can you believe it? It’s like winning the lottery.’

      ‘I can’t see him, Roxanne,’ Scarlett insisted. ‘Please don’t ask it of me.’

      A light bulb seemed to come on in Roxanne’s head as she peered at Scarlett. ‘Hang on a minute, what… Have you dated him in the past or something?’

      ‘More than dated,’ Scarlett answered with a dark frown.

      Roxanne gave her a probing look. ‘What do you mean “more than dated?”’

      Scarlett drew in an unsteady breath. ‘He’s Matthew’s father.’

      Roxanne’s jaw dropped open, and her eyes went saucer-wide. ‘He’s what?’ she gasped.

      Scarlett’s expression became rigid with tension. ‘I’m not going to see him, Roxanne. No way. I hate him for what he did to me, and I am not going to—’

      The unmistakable throaty roar of a Maserati suddenly sounded on the street outside. Both girls looked out of the front window of the studio, and watched as the car’s black, sleek body was expertly manoeuvred in between their tiny fuel-efficient vehicles parked outside.

      Roxanne