The Heir The Prince Secures

He’d never known anyone that unselfish. Ever. Including—and especially—his own parents.

Stefano’s father, Prince Umberto, had only cared about sordid extravagances, and thrilling affairs with women he swore he loved, then quickly discarded. He hadn’t just cheated on his wife, he’d cheated on his mistresses. He’d ruined the family’s famous company, the luxury Zacco brand, through his neglect, then sold it outright during the divorce.

After that, Stefano’s mother, Antonella, had gone on to marry five more times, to progressively younger men, each living off her money during marriage and demanding a fat payout at the end of it. Stefano’s parents had been too self-involved to bother personally with the care of their son, choosing to leave him at their castle in Sicily to be raised by paid servants. At twelve, they’d sent him off to an American boarding school, and left him there, even during the summers.

The Zacco legacy, the legendary hundred-year-old company—even the corporate rights to their very name—had been lost to his parents’ selfishness. After his father’s death when Stefano was finishing college at twenty-two, he’d inherited almost nothing: a falling-down castle in Sicily, some heavily mortgaged real estate, and the nearly bankrupt leather goods company that eventually became Mercurio.

In life, it was every man—and every woman—for themselves. Stefano had learned the lesson well. And life was a game he intended to win.

Over the last sixteen years, Stefano had laboriously rebuilt everything his parents had lost. His international conglomerate, Gioreale S.p.A., was now worth billions, containing luxury brands that sold everything from sports cars to champagne to jewels. And he was building the exclusive fashion line, Mercurio.

It was true, Mercurio’s launch last year hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped, but he’d just hired a hot new designer, the eccentric, trendy Caspar von Schreck. His first clothing collection would be shown next month at Paris Fashion Week.

And soon, if everything went as planned, Stefano would finally acquire what he wanted most—he’d buy back the Zacco brand. Everything was coming together.

He should have been happy, or at least pleased.

But the truth was, at thirty-eight, Stefano was feeling strangely tired of all of it. It was why he’d left tonight’s party early, even arranging for his driver to give teenage model Kebe Kedane a ride back to her anxiously waiting mother on the Upper West Side.

Once, Stefano had loved the thrill of New York Fashion Week, the parties, the clubs, the gorgeous women. Lately, everything he’d given his life to conquer...left him numb. He found himself wanting something else. Something more.

Taking back the Zacco brand would change everything, he told himself firmly. Next week he’d start negotiations with Fenella Montfort to buy back his family’s legacy. Once it was his, he’d finally feel satisfied. He’d finally feel at peace.

He’d finally have won.

“Oh,” Tess murmured, yawning as she stirred on the sofa. She blinked, cradling her baby gently as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“You’re tired.” He looked down at her. “I’d like you to stay here tonight.”

Her cheeks went pink. She looked down shyly, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her skin. “That’s very kind of you, but—”

“It’s not kind. I want this settled, one way or the other, before I leave for London tomorrow.”

“London?”

“For Fashion Week.”

She blinked in surprise. “Are you attending all of them?”

“Yes, back to back. New York, London, Milan, Paris.” He gave her a humorless smile. “I do own a fashion brand.”

“But it’s not Zacco?” She said, looking bewildered.

“Mercurio.” His smile dropped. “My father sold Zacco almost twenty years ago. I intend to buy it back. I’ll start the negotiations in London.”

“Good for you.” The deal that meant so much to him obviously meant nothing to her. She stretched her shoulders back, drawing her shoulder blades together, which pushed her breasts forward, stretching the fabric of her modest vintage shirt. Unwillingly, his eyes traced over the shape of her breasts. Catching himself, he forced his attention back to her face.

But her eyes were even more dangerous than her body. They were deep emerald pools, like oceans for an unwary man to drown in.

“When will you be back from Europe?”

“I don’t know.”

Careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in her arms, she rose from the sofa. “Thank you for dinner, and for offering to let me stay, but Esme and I really should be getting home.”

She started toward the foyer where the stroller waited, but he moved to block her. “You’re not going anywhere.”

His voice was harsher than he’d intended. Tess’s lips parted, angry sparks rising in her green eyes.

“Please,” he said, amending his tone. “I want you to stay. Dr. Miller promised the paternity results first thing in the morning.”

“Why should I stay? It’ll only prove what I already know. You’re Esme’s father. I have no reason to wait all night to get the news.” She looked at the floor. “I’ve waited for you long enough.”

An unsettled feeling filled Stefano. If she was telling the truth, then it meant he’d unthinkingly, cruelly abandoned her, pregnant with his baby. He couldn’t let himself even reflect about what that might mean or the choice he’d have to make.

Stefano came closer. “Please stay. Until we know for sure.”

Tess lifted her chin. “I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Again?”

“I work fifty hours a week.”

“Why? Does it pay well?”

Tess gave a smile tinged with bitterness. “Minimum wage. Plus room and board for myself and Esme.”

“Minimum wage?” He was outraged. “Why would you work so hard for so little?”

“There aren’t many jobs I’m qualified for and where I can keep Esme with me.”

“You should have stayed in design school.”

“Wow,” she said sarcastically. “Thank you for pointing that out to me.” Her cheeks burned. “But I couldn’t afford both tuition and day care, or manage sixteen-hour days of work and school away from her.”

Stefano stared at Tess.

He could instantly picture what her life had been like since he’d left her last year, pregnant, penniless and alone. She’d worked a menial job for little pay, giving up her dreams of college, struggling to provide for her baby with no hope for the future.

All because he’d made sure she had no way to contact him ever again.

His stomach clenched. “If what you say is true and she’s my child...it will change everything. Surely you know that.”

Biting her lip, she glanced down at the sleeping baby in her arms, then said in a small voice, “It would?”

Placing his hands gently on her shoulders, Stefano said quietly, “Please stay, Tess. You’re tired and so is Esme. Just stay. You can have the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

She gave him a startled glance, then looked at her sleeping baby cuddled against her chest. With visible reluctance, she sighed. “All right. Fine.” Going to the stroller, she returned with a diaper bag slung over her shoulder. “Where is the bedroom?”