The Italian's Pregnancy Proposal (Bought For Her Baby Series Book 3) Read online

  The way he said this made Bliss feel as though she had just agreed to a secret tryst with him in the moonlight. His tone held a surprisingly possessive note that made all the fine hairs on the back of her neck sit up straight. How was she supposed to maintain a very necessary emotional distance from this man when such a riot of forceful feeling was flooding through her? She had to get a grip, that was what she had to do, and remind herself that she was here to do a job and that was all. There was no place in her life for futile crushes or romantic attachments of any kind.

  Bliss might not be sure exactly what she wanted out of life, but she was certain of one thing—it wasn’t a relationship. Experiencing the tragedy of her parents’ marriage at first hand, seeing two people who’d started out loving each other withdraw into their own private hell, unable to even care for their child because they were so wrapped up in their own misery, Bliss had seen just how bad relationships could get. Who needed the heartache? Her mission right now should be to focus on her career and stop going down old roads that held no prospects and no opportunity of improving her situation.

  ‘My bag is already packed. All I have to do is pick it up and bring it with me.’ Although her voice was even, her gaze pulled away from Dante’s with more difficulty than he would ever know.

  When she returned in the black limousine that had been her ride back to Chelsea Harbour, Dante led Bliss straight into the living room where Renata was seated on a cushion in front of the big wide-screen television, watching children’s programmes. Catching her completely unawares with a guilty but lethally sexy grin, Dante shrugged his magnificent shoulders and dropped his hands to his tight lean hips. ‘We have been watching cartoons together. Such a simple pleasure, but one I have been enjoying immensely. It is a joy to spend time with my niece and have the pleasure of hearing her laugh. It is the best thing that has happened to me in a long time.’

  She felt like a ninepin just knocked down by a bowling ball. For several seconds Bliss could do nothing but stare at him. Her jaw went slack, and her rising sense of panic made her seriously wonder if he’d put her into some kind of trance, because she couldn’t have torn her gaze away from the joy in that beautiful face if someone had paid her with gold bars. With his strong, accentuated jaw line, straight, aquiline nose, a mouth that hinted equally at arrogance and strength and now humour, and those intensely disturbing emerald eyes, his sensual power alone packed such a punch that Bliss was amazed she was still standing. Team such a weapon with his clearly passionate kinship to his sister and her little daughter and—well, resistance was useless, wasn’t it?

  ‘Spending time with children, sharing the kind of things that they enjoy doing…it can remind you of what it was like to be a child.’ Dropping her leather holdall onto the maple wood floor, Bliss smiled up at him, thoroughly disconcerted when his expression seemed to grow more serious and his eyes all but made a meal of her on the spot. That look wasn’t anything to do with memories of being a child. On the contrary, it was a look that was everything to do with a virile adult male at the height of his sexual prowess, and who could blame Bliss for feeling as if she’d mentally been stripped naked by an expert?

  ‘You brought your things, that’s good. Come, I will show you where you will sleep tonight.’ Dante broke away before Bliss did, his manner suddenly abrupt and businesslike, and she was left staring at his back as he exited the room, her heart pounding. In fact it was pounding so hard that she told herself she was this close to needing medical help. Irritated with herself for behaving so completely out of character around an attractive man, Bliss combed her fingers impatiently through her hair, took a deep breath, picked up her bag and obediently followed him out into the light airy corridor, warning herself to pull herself together as she did so.

  ‘Chocolate, yummy.’

  Back in the living room a few minutes later, Bliss lay on the floor with Renata seated astride her chest, 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 the coolly self-possessed and confident demeanour he presented, Bliss had no doubt it was the latter.

  ‘My father bought the lease on a hotel when I was only small. He worked hard to make it a success and eventually was able to buy it outright. By the time my brother Stefano and I were grown, he owned several other hotels as well. It was really not so difficult to join the business and help increase its success.’ What Dante didn’t reveal to the interested young woman seated on his sister’s couch was that when he had first stepped in to join his father, Antonio had already lost two of his hotels in investments that hadn’t come off and had been close to losing another. After studying accountancy and business management on a part-time basis in the evenings as well as learning the business firsthand from his father, Dante had acquired a distinct flair for doing exactly what was required to turn things around. In less than two years after he had officially started working with his father, they had not only regained the two hotels they had lost, but acquired another two as well. By the time Stefano had come along to swell the ranks, the di Andrea hotels had gone from strength to strength, earning an international reputation for first-class service and what Antonio proudly called ‘old-fashioned style and comfort’. The customers were always right and nothing they required was too difficult or impossible to get. With such a motto, as far as Dante was concerned, they could not lose.

  ‘And do you enjoy your work?’ Bliss wanted to know.

  ‘I am passionate about it.’ One corner of Dante’s intriguing mouth lifted ever so slightly at the edges as if he was amused she even had to ask such a question.

  Bliss couldn’t help but sigh enviously. ‘I wish I could find a job or career I was passionate about.’

  ‘You do not like working behind the beauty counter?’

  ‘Are you joking?’ She made a face and moved the satin cushion to one side. ‘Sometimes I think I’d rather dig roads! At least I’d be out in the open in the fresh air instead of almost choking to death beneath the fumes of perfume.’

  Dante couldn’t imagine a more preposterous scenario if he tried, and nor could he understand the suddenly overwhelming urge to protect this woman from such circumstances that she would be willing to consider such an outrageous option—even if she was only joking. Those small, perfect hands of hers were not made for hard manual labour. No, he could think of much better uses to put those hands to, and none of them involved digging up concrete.

  ‘You did not go to college or university?’ he asked her, at a loss to know why she was doing a job she clearly disliked so much. A defensive look darkened her eyes and she crossed her arms in front of her chest as if subconsciously seeking protection from unhappy memories.

  ‘No, I didn’t. My family’s circumstances weren’t conducive to me going. I went out to work to support myself when I was sixteen.’

  ‘You did not live at home?’

  ‘Yes, I lived at home.’ Swallowing down the almost intolerable ache inside her throat, Bliss made a snap decision to throw caution to the wind and tell this man the truth. It was a first for her. Hardly anyone knew the real circumstances of her family life, not even her best friend, Trudy. ‘When I was sixteen, my mother took her own life. My father already had a drink problem and it simply got worse. I had to look after him as well as myself…then two years after Mum died he just walked out. All he left was a note telling me not to look for him. I haven’t seen him in over seven years.’

  Dante fell thoughtfully silent for a moment before speaking. ‘That must have been…very difficult.’

  Glancing up at him, her violet eyes flashing like little shards of coloured ice, Bliss shook her head.

  ‘No. It was horrible and it was hell but it wasn’t “difficult”. Difficult means troublesome or perplexing and losing both my parents in the space of two years far exceeded that. Anyway…I don’t know why I told you all that. I’m not generally known for spilling my guts to a complete stranger.’

 
; CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘I WOULD like to think by now that I am not a stranger to you, Bliss. And I am more sorry than I can say that such a terrible thing happened to you.’

  Instinctively Dante understood what it must have cost her to reveal such personal heartbreak and he found the respect he already had for this surprising young woman steadily deepening, moment by moment.

  ‘Well, we all have our cross to bear.’ Rising to her feet, Bliss regarded Dante’s undeniably impressive physique with a new wariness. Had she said too much? Would he question her reliability now that he knew she flitted from job to job and came from such an unsettled, tragic background? Feeling her spirits sink a little, Bliss knew she needed a diversion to prevent them from sinking even lower. A breath of fresh air before bed would be good—some time to regroup the defences that had undeniably come under attack as she’d been reminded of the sadness of her past. ‘I’m popping out for a while. Shall I take a key so as not to disturb you?’

  ‘There is no need.’ Dante’s glance was all-consuming and missed nothing. Certainly not her suddenly urgent desire to be alone to cope with the flood of sad memories. Straightening his shoulders as if to remind her of the innate gravitas in his bearing, he nodded very slightly, almost formally. ‘I will wait up for you. While you are under my family’s roof I am responsible for your care. But do not stay away long. It is neither right nor safe for a young woman to wander the city streets alone at night.’

  Fiercely protective of her independence—simply because being independent was something that had become a habit from a very young age—Bliss was about to snap back at him that she didn’t need looking after, but she suddenly felt too weary. The fight just oozed out of her like air from a punctured balloon, and she couldn’t bring herself to complain. Secretly, she also couldn’t deny that it was actually quite nice to have someone worrying about her for a change.