Claiming His Secret Love-Child: The Marciano Love-Child / The Italian Billionaire's Secret Love-Child / The Rich Man's Love-Child. Maggie CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘What would you like to drink?’ he asked as he led her into the huge living area she had designed with meticulous attention. ‘I have white wine, champagne, and all the usual aperitifs.’
‘White wine, thank you…’ she said, still trying to get her head around things.
She had spent a lot of time on this house; the makeover had been total, and she had felt so thrilled with the results. It had gone from being a large but tired 1930’s house to a luxury mansion with every modern fixture and appliance. The kitchen and walk-in pantry were huge, the living area twice the size of her flat. Each of the six bedrooms had an en suite done in Italian marble, and the main bathroom was second to none in terms of opulence. It had been one of the biggest projects she had ever done, and the payment she had received had helped her and Roxanne move out of the cramped office they had rented in the outer suburbs to their current studio in trendy, upmarket Woollahra.
Alessandro walked to where she was standing, and handed her a glass of white wine as he raised his glass in a toast. ‘To a successful completion of our contract,’ he said.
A little hammer of suspicion was tapping away inside her head as she held his inscrutable look. ‘What’s going on, Alessandro?’ she asked.
‘We are having a drink, are we not?’
‘I mean about you happening to be the owner of this house,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t just a coincidence, was it?’
He gave her one of his enigmatic smiles. ‘I had one of my employees oversee the work. He spoke very highly of your professionalism and meticulous attention to detail.’
‘That would be Mr Rossi, wouldn’t it?’ she asked, her mouth pulled tight. ‘So, he was acting for you.’
‘I trusted him to see that the house was brought to a satisfactory standard.’
Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. ‘I hope you’re happy with what I’ve done.’
His eyes glinted. ‘Very. The master bedroom in particular is pure sensual indulgence. I can see your touch everywhere.’
Scarlett could feel a blush rising from the soles of her feet to pool in her cheeks. ‘I only did what I was asked to do,’ she said, with a white-tipped set to her mouth.
‘Yes, but you did it with your own personal flair,’ he said. ‘It is like making love, no? You have moves and touches no one else can even imitate.’
She gripped her glass even tighter, trying not to be pulled into his force field. She could feel the magnetism of his presence: the way his eyes held hers, the way his too-close body radiated its warmth and very male scent, so that her nostrils flared of their own volition to take more of him in.
He put his wine glass down and stepped closer, tipping up her chin with a lazy finger. ‘Just like the properties you have designed, you have left your indelible mark on me, Scarlett,’ he said softly. ‘No one has ever been able to erase it.’
Scarlett could feel herself drowning in the deep green and brown of his eyes, her whole body on high alert. The blood rushed through her veins, her skin prickled, her breasts felt tight, and her stomach began kicking with excitement as he took the glass from her nerveless fingers and set it down right next to his, all without once releasing her gaze.
Her tongue sneaked out to moisten her lips. ‘Alessandro… I can’t do this.’
His thumb stroked the side of her mouth, close but not quite touching her pulsing lips. ‘But you want to, don’t you, cara? You want to as much as I do.’
She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth, her heart going like an out-of-control jackhammer in her chest. ‘It…it doesn’t make it right,’ she said. ‘You already have a mistress, and I have—’
His hands came down on her shoulders and held her fast. ‘Do not play games with me, Scarlett. I will have what I want, no matter what hurdles or obstacles you put in the way. We have unfinished business between us.’
‘Yes, the birth of your son being one of them,’ she threw back.
His jaw was set in taut lines. ‘Why do you persist with this? I told you, he cannot possibly be mine.’
‘There are ways of finding out for sure.’
His fingers tightened momentarily before he released her, using one of his hands to bring back the hair that had fallen forward over his frowning forehead. ‘I do not need to find out anything. I know everything I need to know. I saw you with Kirby; there is an easy familiarity between you. Anyone can see you are intimately involved. I am not surprised he is still on the scene. He never really went away, did he? In fact, it would not surprise me if you cooked the whole scheme up between you.’
She looked at him with contempt. ‘What?’
‘Money was your motive,’ he said, holding her glare with consummate ease. ‘Your job was to land yourself a billionaire so you could get your hands on half of the assets and split them with your lover. It has been done before, and no doubt will be done again.’
‘Will you agree to have a paternity test done?’ she asked, ignoring his insulting summation of her character.
He looked at her in silence for what seemed a very long time, his expression as closed as a clenched fist. ‘If that is the only thing that will stop you going on with this nonsense, then yes, I will agree to it.’
Scarlett suddenly felt suspended between relief and worry. What if on finding out the truth he decided he wanted full custody of his son? What if he insisted on Matthew spending up to half a year in Milan? Matthew was generally a secure little boy, but he was still a toddler, and the slightest change in routine would be enough to make him have nightmares or set him back developmentally. She might very well have started a chain of events that, once in motion, would not be easily halted.
Alessandro was a determined and no-nonsense man. Once he found out the truth, he would want control, and she had virtually handed it to him by pressing the issue so persistently.
‘We don’t have to rush into things…’ she said, knowing it sounded as if she was backtracking.
His lip curled. ‘Having second thoughts, Scarlett?’
She forced herself to hold his gaze. ‘No, but I’m concerned about the effect on my son. I’ve always told him his father is dead.’
‘He is very young to understand the concept of death,’ he commented. ‘He must be a very intelligent child.’
‘He is,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘But then, so is his father.’
He picked up their glasses, handing her the one she hadn’t yet tasted. ‘Dinner is ready,’ he said. ‘I had my housekeeper prepare it earlier.’
Scarlett followed him to the dining area she had designed for a happy family gathering, never once at the time imagining that a few months later she would be sitting in it in a stony silence, opposite the man who had so ruthlessly broken her heart.
She sat, staring at the food on her plate, wondering how on earth she was going to get it past the aching lump in her throat.
‘You are not eating,’ Alessandro said after a few moments. ‘Is the food not to your liking?’
She picked up her knife and fork. ‘It’s fine…lovely, in fact. You must have a very good housekeeper.’
‘Yes, I have,’ he said. ‘She only comes in twice a week, however.’
Scarlett looked up in surprise from rearranging the food on her plate. ‘Is that all? I thought you’d have a daily, if not fulltime help.’
He picked up his wine glass and met her gaze. ‘I do not like sharing my living space with people who are virtually strangers. I thought you would have remembered that about me.’
Scarlett did, but she thought