that’s what you are—my unemployed wife.”
The blood drained from her face. How could he know?
“You no longer have a job, do you?”
She swallowed. “Of course I do. There wasn’t that much—”
Marco didn’t let her finish. “Darling, your chef Ansigne called here. It appears you left your box of knives and tools behind. He’d like you to come get them as soon as possible as he needs the locker for your replacement.”
“Fine. I was fired today. Does that make you happy?”
“Of course not. But you don’t need to worry about finances.”
“That’s what you say.”
“It’s a fact. You’re the mother of my child. Technically, you’re still my wife.”
“I won’t be much longer.”
“Even so, there’s no need to rush. You and Enzo will always be financially secure. I’ll see to it.”
Of course he would see to it—it meant he could toss her aside with no guilt.
How in the world had she ended up in this predicament? Her career was on the cusp of taking off before she’d gotten pregnant. Apparently, a three-year break could be career suicide.
“Take care of your son, Marco. You have no need to take care of me. I can fend for myself. I always have.”
“Ever the independent one.”
“In any case, you don’t really need to concern yourself,” she said, just to spite him. “Seeing as our adventure is over.”
“Enzo, why don’t you go play with the train track we set up in the other room?” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. The child immediately obeyed. Which was very surprising, for Enzo.
Marco moved around the table and closed the distance between them. Brianna’s heart pounded as he approached. Why couldn’t she keep her emotions in check when it came to this man?
“As brief as our affair was to be, the fact remains that it resulted in a child.” His voice was cold and tight.
“It should have never resulted in marriage.”
“I apologize if my wish to legitimize my son put a cramp in your lifestyle.”
She sucked in a breath at those words. “What makes you think it did?”
Her regret came too late. The falsehood broke the last of Marco’s hold on his temper. In less than a second, he had moved to within inches of where she stood.
“You dare toy with me about such things?” he demanded, his breath hot against her cheek.
To Brianna’s horror, her wayward body immediately reacted. A curl of deep, scorching heat erupted in her belly and traveled slowly lower. She wanted to move but seemed unable to. All she could feel was his heat.
“Marco, just stop. I can’t fight with you right now,” she pleaded, totally depleted of energy all of a sudden. Having him here was wreaking havoc on her senses. A part of her longed for him, had ached to see him and feel him again. But another part, a more logical one, knew better.
That was the part she needed to focus on. It took all of her will to step away. Scooting back around the table, she fought to catch her breath.
Marco stayed where he was. She suspected Enzo’s presence in the next room was to thank for that. His breathing was harsh.
“Bree, I don’t want to fight either. It’s just—”
She held up a hand to stop him from saying any more. “I wish you hadn’t shown up here unannounced.”
“But I am here.”
“Right, to see Enzo. Well, you have. Please leave.”
He looked away and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Is that what you really want?”
“Yes,” she managed to choke out.
He nodded once. “And what of all the loose ends?”
“Which are?”
His eyes fell on Enzo. “Visitation arrangements.”
Of course. “I promise you I’ll compromise fully,” she said. “I have no interest in keeping him away from you.”
He remained silent a moment, his eyes still fixed on his son. “Thank you for that.” Then he glanced back at her. “There is also the matter of finances.”
“I fully intend to go back to work.”
“How? You have no sitter.”
“I told you, I have a backup. I’ve already spoken to him. He can start full-time tomorrow.”
Marco’s eyebrows shot up just as Brianna realized what she’d said.
“He?” Marco asked.
“Now don’t start anything.”
“So you have a gentleman friend who watches my son.”
She really didn’t want to go down this path. No good could possibly come of it. “He’s hardly a gentleman friend, Marco. He’s a local college student studying elementary education, and he happens to love being around children.”
“Who else does he love being around?”
“He’s merely a caregiver,” Brianna said through gritted teeth. “A very good one. And he’s very dependable. Unlike Mrs. Schelling.”
Marco leaned over and gripped the table with both hands.
“Curtis only sits for me.”
“I see. Exactly how well do you know him?”
Brianna didn’t want to care that he was jumping to all the wrong conclusions. She didn’t want to care that he didn’t trust her. Why would he? He’d never bothered to know her fully, to know her true character.
One uncharacteristic night of her life, due to a recent breakup, her broken heart had driven her into the arms of a stranger. She’d met Marco only hours earlier, and was in awe of the fact that someone like him actually found her attractive. In a party full of starlets and models, one she was merely attending as the hired help, he’d somehow sought her attention. It took her only hours to fall head over heels in love. And about the same amount of time for her to fall into his bed.
It had been the most intense week of her life. In many ways, she’d been drawn to Marco more than the man she’d been seeing for close to two years before he’d unceremoniously dumped her to pursue a career in Los Angeles.
It had all been so awkward afterward. They were no more than strangers but they’d been intimate. Then, when she’d found out she was carrying their child, it hardly seemed the time to discuss ways to get to know each other better. Not when major decisions had to be made.
“How well, Brianna?” he repeated.
“I know him well enough,” she said, suddenly angry. Marco had no power over her. And he had no right to repeatedly judge her so. She noticed his grip on the table tighten.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” she said loudly, then glanced at Enzo. He wasn’t used to his mama raising her voice. “Curtis is a very fine young man, just barely in his twenties. There is nothing between us besides an employer-worker relationship.”
“You’re not out of your twenties yourself.”
There was no point in defending herself. It wouldn’t work. She shouldn’t even need to, not if he truly loved her.
That was laughable. Love had nothing to do with their marriage, not for Marco. He’d just said it himself—it was merely an attempt to legitimize his son.
She