The Italian's Pregnancy Proposal

Dante’s frown grew even more pronounced. ‘So you would have children out of wedlock?’

Clearly recognising that he disapproved of such a course of action in a big way, Bliss couldn’t help laughing. ‘That’s probably not on the cards either. I shall just be happy being auntie to my friends’ children.’

He murmured something with feeling, in Italian, and Bliss glanced up at him reprovingly as she finished cleaning Renata’s face. ‘You’ll have to remember that I don’t speak Italian. I wish I did, but I don’t.’

‘Forgive me. I just said that it was a terrible waste that a woman with such natural maternal instincts should look forward to a life without a husband and children of her own.’

‘Well, that’s as may be, but I can assure you that nothing would induce me into marriage.’

‘That is a pity.’ His eyes darkened as Dante reflected that it truly was.

‘You are not married yourself, Mr di Andrea?’

‘Dante.’ Her question was so surprising that for a moment he struggled to marshal his thoughts together on the subject. The fact that his mother had been berating him for his single status for so long now came back to remind him what a disappointment he must be to her on that score. Business-wise he was one of the élite of Italian hoteliers, adding to the family fortune year by year with his natural and almost frightening ability to make money—but personally…? While his younger brother Stefano—his right-hand man in the business—had already fathered three children and had been married for almost eight years now, and Tatiana of course had Renata, Dante was still a confirmed bachelor with not a prospect of a bambino in sight. And nor would there be unless the most exceptional woman came along—one whose first interest wasn’t in how much money he had.

‘No, I am not married. I am—how do you say it?—married to my business.’

‘Oh.’

Just, ‘Oh.’ Not, ‘What do you do?’ or, ‘What business are you in?’ Just, ‘Oh.’ Did he hold such little appeal to this surprising woman that her curiosity wasn’t even provoked the smallest bit about what he did for a living?

Her attention already straying to a still-chattering Renata, Bliss drained the water from the basin, rinsed it out with some cold, then lifted the toddler cheerfully onto her hip again. For some reason that he couldn’t quite explain, Dante’s proud male ego felt ridiculously bruised.

‘All done. We can have that talk now, if you like.’

He nodded gravely. ‘Sì. If you come into the kitchen I will make some coffee for us. You have eaten breakfast, I presume?’

‘I had a cereal bar on the way over here. I never eat much in the morning.’

‘That is not good. Eating should not be such a casual affair.’

‘Of course, you would say that. You’re Italian, aren’t you?’ Her prettily shaped mouth curved into a playful smile as Dante scowled and he experienced the full force of her teasing with a wave of heat that frankly stunned him.

‘By that you are implying what—that we eat too much?’

‘No.’ Reining in another teasing smile, Bliss carefully weighed up her words. ‘I just meant that food is a big part of your culture, isn’t it? Food and family and…’ She was just about to add ‘love’ when she saw the corner of Dante’s too-appealing lips quirk upwards into a lazily amused smile. She was dumbstruck; her gaze was helplessly hypnotised by that sensually stimulating little gesture, so much so that a deliciously affecting shiver shuddered down her spine like little sparkles of coloured light shimmering from a firework.

‘La dolce vita. A love of life, sì?’

The way he said it sounded too sinful for words and Bliss couldn’t help musing that he was the epitome of all the things Italian men were renowned for and more. Sexy, stylish, charming, strong, definitely arrogant and jaw-droppingly beautiful…

‘Yes. That’s it.’ Embarrassed at being caught staring, she slid her violet gaze guiltily away. When Dante smiled at her again as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, Bliss wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

‘Come and have some coffee and some food, then we will talk.’

He turned his back on her and left the bathroom, his tall, broad-shouldered frame moving with a lithe grace that beautifully complemented the undoubted strength in every taut and sinewed muscle that rippled beneath his shirt. Bliss could only trail behind in awe.

’So, we have an agreement? You will go back home and collect your things and stay here with Renata and my sister until my mother arrives from Italy.’

‘As long as your sister is in agreement that I stay in her house and help take care of Renny. If she is, then, yes, I agree to stay.’

Dante sighed as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Glancing towards his little niece, who was playing with some crayons and paper on the floor, his green eyes turned visibly soft. ‘It is bad enough she has lost her father, no? And now her mother cannot take care of her.’

‘But this is only temporary,’ Bliss hastened to assure him. ‘Tatiana will recover soon, I’m sure.’

‘Yes, you’re right.’ If he was honest, Dante was very glad to have Bliss to talk to. There was an air of calmness and maturity about her that was very appealing and right now he needed that. He prided himself on his efficiency and aptitude in almost every other arena of his life except personal relations. There was always a discernible distance between himself and his parents and siblings, no matter how hard he tried to let his guard down. It had been that way since he was small—because his mother Isabella was not his natural mother.

Dante had been the result of an affair his father Antonio had had with an Irish girl whom his father had been forbidden by his own parents to marry. She had died of breast cancer shortly after giving birth to their child. Heartbroken, Antonio had broken all allegiance to his parents after Katherine died and looked after his baby son himself with the aid of his sister-in-law Romana, until he had met and married Isabella Minetti when Dante was six years old. A year later, Stefano had been born, followed only eighteen months after that by Tatiana. Isabella had never treated Dante any differently from his brother and sister, yet Dante had always felt somehow cheated because he wasn’t her natural-born son. Particularly so when his aunt Romana had often reminded him that it was his fault that Antonio and his parents were not speaking any more. She had also reminded him, on an almost daily basis, that he was lucky to be even tolerated in the family because of what had happened, and behind his father’s back had sneered at him, ‘Irish brat.’

If Antonio had guessed what had gone on when he was out at work trying to get his business off the ground, Dante had no doubt his father would have taken him from Romana so fast her head would have spun. But Antonio had never known what his sister-in-law was truly like, because Dante had never told him.

When the boy Dante had finally found himself with two loving parents, he had still felt himself an outsider—always the one with something to prove. It had been easiest to concentrate all his energies on the business. But now his sister had suffered this terrible tragedy and there was a real opportunity to demonstrate his allegiance and his love, and do everything in his power to help Tatiana. Perhaps it would help him let down a few of those painfully erected barriers he’d built so diligently round his heart…with his sister, at least.

‘This afternoon if Tatiana feels like talking, I will take you in to see her yourself. Perhaps she will open up a little to another woman? My mother rings her every day, but it is not the same as having her here with her, is it?’

‘No, it isn’t,’ Bliss agreed, her heart full at the troubled expression crossing Dante’s extraordinarily captivating face. Her own relationship with her mother had never been as close as she would have liked it to be, but she could certainly understand Tatiana’s sense of loss at not having her mother nearby under the circumstances. ‘But I will gladly talk to Tatiana if you think that might help. By the way, don’t forget to leave me your telephone number so that I can contact you when you leave.’

Dante’s green eyes glimmered a little as he treated Bliss to the full, unsettling force of his concentrated gaze.

‘That will not be necessary,’ he said curtly.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I am staying here as well. I thought you realised that?’

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS a possibility that had not even remotely crossed Bliss’s mind. Now her thoughts culminated in a crescendo of panic as heat cascaded through her body like a sudden tropical storm, battering down defences and raising unbidden fears about sleeping under the same roof as this breathtaking, beguiling Italian. She desperately wanted to help Tatiana and her lovely little daughter—of course she did—but that desire was now complicated by the fact that she was starting to harbour what could only be ultimately a futile attraction to Dante himself. It was so unlike her to react like that to a man—any man, no matter how attractive. Now this out-of-the-blue, violent attraction for one who was practically a stranger was enough to make her question her own reason.

Seeing the startled look in her pretty eyes, Dante sensed her mind working overtime. He realised that there were things he hadn’t said. Important things that she should know about him so that she would be reassured that this wasn’t some elaborate game he was playing to take advantage of her in any way. With a gargantuan effort, he dragged his gaze away from the sweetly perfect curve of her hips highlighted by her tight denim jeans as Bliss stood up from the kitchen table with Renata in her arms, holding the little girl close as her head drooped tiredly against her shoulder.

‘It is natural you should be wary, but I need to stay here so that I can keep an eye on Tatiana and the baby. My family would never forgive me if anything should happen to either of them. I couldn’t forgive myself should such a terrible thing occur.’ He too got to his feet, towering above Bliss from the other side of the table so that she had to look up to meet the fiercely protective blaze in those breathtaking eyes of his. ‘I do not know how to handle a small child such as Renny. I am too inexperienced. I am not a family man in the sense that I have a wife and children. That is why I need your help, Bliss. My brother Stefano and I are hoteliers. As well as hotels in Italy, Sardinia and Paris, we have a small select hotel here in London, in Belgravia, where we have a suite in readiness for whenever the family should visit. But I do not want to stay there while my sister is clearly in need of my help. Please tell me you understand my dilemma?’

Bliss let out a breath and her previously tense shoulders dropped a fraction. Dante di Andrea was clearly an extremely wealthy and attractive man with a strong sense of familial duty and love. It was totally absurd to imagine that he would be remotely attracted to an ordinary, unremarkable girl like her and put them both in a compromising position when she was only there out of the goodness of her heart. Anyway, he probably had a string of gorgeous girlfriends back in Italy—each of them no doubt more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. Oh, well, Bliss, you can breathe a sigh of relief. He won’t be lusting after you the minute he sees you in your chain-store dressing gown. The thought made a severe dent in her ego, even though it was absolutely ludicrous to entertain it in the first place.

‘It’s all right, Mr di Andrea.’

He immediately frowned and she quickly realised he wasn’t entirely happy with her formal use of his name. ‘Dante.’ Despite feeling that addressing him informally was a liberty that was far too intimate, Bliss rallied. ‘I’m cool about the situation if you are. As soon as your mother gets here from Italy I’ll go home and that will be that. Right now I’m just glad to be able to help out. The little darling’s asleep. Can I put her down somewhere?’

‘Of course.’ Swiftly moving ahead of her into the living room, Dante cleared some cushions from one of the stylish leather couches and indicated to Bliss that she should lay the sleeping child there. When she had done so, he fetched a soft crushed pink cashmere throw from an armchair and draped it tenderly over the little girl. Watching the look on his face as he did so, Bliss felt her heart swell with warmth. He wasn’t experienced with children, he’d said—yet he gazed at Renata as though the miracle of her existence touched him to the very depths of his soul.

‘I think I’ll take the opportunity to go home now and fetch my things. Can I phone for a cab from here?’

‘That will not be necessary. I have a driver at the hotel who will come and pick you up and take you home. I will ring him now and he will be downstairs in just a few minutes. Please do not be long. If you are too long I may fear that you are not coming back at all.’

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.