came through the door and the image of him that it conjured in her mind was immediate and vivid—but she had to remember the man she’d confronted yesterday was the same as the one described in Celebrity Spy! He’d also been suffering the effects of alcohol, probably from partying the previous night with glamorous women. It had shocked her that he was so far from the loving man she’d met briefly in London.
‘Come in,’ she said, far more boldly than she felt, and tugged the sheet tighter against her. Had she undressed in a tired trance or had he removed her clothes?
The door clicked open and Dante entered. The hint of stubble which had coloured his face yesterday was gone. The clean-shaven look reminded her of the man she’d lost more than just her virginity to.
‘I trust you slept well, cara?’
‘I did—thank you.’ She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking if he was the one who had undressed her and pulled the luxurious sheets over her instead of leaving her lying on the bed. Her only memory from last night was of lying there for just a few minutes.
‘Good. We have a busy day ahead of us.’
He walked closer, his expression bland and unyielding, and try as she might she couldn’t help but admire the way his shirt was all but moulded to his body. A body she remembered clearly and a body she wanted to know again. Except that would be too dangerous—now that she knew who he really was and what he was capable of.
‘We do?’ She hoped the flush that crept over her cheeks wouldn’t give her away.
‘Sì. I have the necessary paperwork for our deal, awaiting your signature, then we can go shopping.’
A hint of mischief sparked in his eyes as he turned his full attention to her as if he knew she was being a tease but refused to rise to it.
‘Shopping?’ she asked casually as she sat back against the soft pillows. If only she didn’t feel as if she’d walked into the pride leader’s den. ‘Why do we need to go shopping?’
‘For the single most important item, if this deal is to achieve its aim. A ring.’
He moved towards the bed and she had to work hard to resist the temptation to pull the sheets tighter still against her—whether to hide her state of undress or protect her heart as it fluttered at his increasingly dominating presence, she couldn’t tell. Either way, she wouldn’t do it—wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he could unbalance her with one look.
‘Of course.’ Her nonchalant tone was a total contrast to the racing of her heart and the flutter of the butterflies which had taken residence in her tummy. ‘I will join you shortly.’
‘Breakfast is waiting for you.’ His dark eyes fixed her intently to the spot and instantly she was back on that bed in the hotel room in London as he’d stood and looked at her, desire and passion so tangible in the air that she hadn’t wanted the moment ever to end.
‘Thank you.’ She dragged her mind back from that night. She would have to put such notions well and truly to one side if she was going to survive this deal she’d struck. Dante didn’t have feelings for her. She was merely a means to an end. A way to seal his deal. He was exactly the inscrutable businessman Celebrity Spy! had portrayed him as being.
The trouble was she also knew he was a skilled lover—which was what had earned him such a scandalous reputation with women—and a rebellious part of her yearned to experience that man again. After all, her current situation couldn’t get much worse. She was pregnant, jobless, and being forced into marriage as part of a business deal. It was ludicrous when all she’d wanted to do was make him aware of his child and ease her conscience.
She watched as he turned and left, unable to pull her gaze away from the broad shoulders covered in a pale blue shirt that somehow emphasised every last muscle her fingers annoyingly remembered tracing on his back.
Once the door had clicked closed she slid out of bed. Although her tummy protested its emptiness she headed for the shower, determined that when they went out later she would look at least a little bit more glamorous and like the women he’d been pictured with throughout that article as proof of his Casanova lifestyle.
The problem was she didn’t really know how to achieve such glamour—that was why she’d been sent out to the hairdresser’s and lent a dress that day she’d been told she would have to stand in for a colleague for one night and be hostess for a dinner party in London. Whilst she’d enjoyed feeling so different, it hadn’t really been her. It was a different Piper who had gained the interest of Dante Mancini, one of the world’s most debauched bachelors, but it was the real Piper who’d fallen for him right there and then.
* * *
Dante stood on his terrace, looking out over Rome as the city became its bustling usual self. Sounds of the street drifted up while he sipped his coffee and waited for Piper. On the table inside, which he’d instructed to be laid for two, was the contract. Once that was signed there would be no going back. He would be responsible not only for Piper, a woman who intrigued him more than any other, but for a child. A responsibility he wasn’t sure he could meet when the demons of Alessio’s death still plagued him.
‘I’m sorry I kept you.’
Piper’s sexy voice, with its delicious accent, dragged him from his dark thoughts.
‘I took the liberty of arranging an assortment of choices for breakfast,’ he said.
‘That sounds wonderful.’
She smiled up at him and he instantly remembered the moment he’d first seen that smile directed at him. He’d walked into the party, not really wanting to be there, and he’d seen her. Despite the fact that she’d been working she’d looked glamorous and very sexy in a black silk dress which had caressed her curvy figure, making him want to touch her, hold her.
He’d wanted her from that moment and had used his charm to achieve just that. Little had he known that his usual sense of control and self-preservation would fail him the moment they first kissed.
‘Is it not usual for women to feel ill in the mornings when they are pregnant?’ He couldn’t keep the scepticism from his voice as the thoughts which had invaded his dreams last night clouded round him once more. He had no proof that she was pregnant. He’d taken her word not only for that, but for the fact that he was the father. He would take the advice his legal team had given him when drawing up the contract and have his own doctor confirm the pregnancy.
‘Yes.’ She smiled at him again, apparently oblivious to his suspicions. ‘Thankfully I don’t seem too troubled by that and I hope it stays that way.’
‘Bene. First we eat—then we will deal with the contract.’ He pulled out a chair for her and waited for her to sit, but knew instantly that had been a mistake as the scent of her freshly washed hair mingled with her perfume, invading his senses so fast he wanted to lower his head, kiss her hair and inhale her, then scoop her up and take her to his bed.
He’d forced himself to walk away from her last night, but could he do it again?
He stepped back. Away from such temptation. Nothing could happen between them. This wasn’t a fling. Nothing about this was casual at all, and the last thing he needed was to complicate it further and get involved. He could never be involved.
He watched her as she ate, realising he hadn’t ever had breakfast with a woman he hadn’t slept with the previous night. In fact he rarely even had breakfast with women, preferring instead to leave the bed and give a very clear message. So why did sitting across the table from a woman who’d been so tired he’d had to help her to undress before tucking her into his bed and then gallantly leaving her alone feel so inviting?
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ she said, her shyness returning as she blushed. ‘Falling asleep like that, I mean. You must think I’m very rude.’
‘I think you were tired from travelling in your condition.’ He poured fresh coffee and tried