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‘She’s fine, Mia. Look.’ With one hand on her shoulder, he turned her so they could both look at their tiny, sleeping daughter. ‘She’s fine. No harm done.’ He rubbed her shoulder, a touch meant for comfort but which made him decidedly less so. Her skin was warm and soft, her nightgown slipping off her shoulder. He fought the urge to slip his hand inside and cup the breast he’d already seen and that was quite, quite perfect.
‘Still…’ Mia muttered. She sounded half-asleep.
‘I’ll put her in the basket now.’ Awkwardly but tenderly Alessandro scooped Ella up, conscious of her fragility, her utter smallness. He still wasn’t used to holding her.
The baby barely stirred as he laid her in the Moses basket, drawing the blanket over her. Then he returned to the bed, where Mia had already fallen back to sleep.
Gently he brushed a tendril of hair away from her cheek, letting his fingers skim along her silky skin. Her breath came out in a soft sigh and she relaxed against him, her body warm and pliant.
Alessandro shifted so he was lying behind her, one arm around her waist. Awareness prickled painfully through him. Sleep, he knew, would be elusive. Then Mia sighed again and wriggled closer to him, so her bottom was nestled against his groin, her head tucked under his chin. Yes, sleep would be very elusive indeed.
Alessandro kept his body relaxed so Mia would stay asleep, savouring her closeness even as it remained an exquisite form of torture. He breathed in her citrusy scent, revelling in her soft warmth, the nearness of her.
He never slept with the women he bedded. He’d always operated alone, on every level. He’d been happy with that. Yet now he found her closeness comforting, a balm as well as an undoubted enticement. He desired her, but he was also content to have her simply lie in his arms. For now, it was enough. It was more than he’d ever had before.
For a few moments he let his mind drift back over the years of his childhood, the loneliness, the uncertainty, the endless turmoil of being moved from one grotty flat to another, the parade of boyfriends who had raged or sneered or used their fists. And his mother…
But that hurt most of all. He tried never to think of his mother, to remember the look of weary defeat on her face, the words she’d said to him, too exhausted by life to be spiteful. They’d been simple truth.
‘I wish I’d never had you.’
No, he didn’t want to think of that. And he didn’t want his daughter to wonder, even for a day, a minute, if he felt that way about her. He would love Ella the way his mother and father had never loved him. And he would build a marriage with Mia that would be better than the candyfloss froth of fairy tales, a solid relationship of affection and companionship without losing control or being vulnerable the way his mother had been. The way he’d so often felt, as a child.
And yet he recognised, as Mia slept in his arms, that he’d already lost control, in some small but elemental way. Already he’d been more open and vulnerable, more emotional, with her than he ever had with anyone before…not that she would recognise that.
He still did, and it unsettled him. He’d never told anyone about his parents, or how he’d felt as a child. Already she knew more about him than anyone else, ever.
Somehow he was going to have to find a way to have the family he wanted without losing himself in the process. He could not relinquish the s
olitary independence he’d cultivated since he could remember. He didn’t know who he would be without it. And yet he wanted Mia and Ella in his life. He wanted the three of them to be a family.
He must have slept, because bright sunlight was visible underneath the rim of the shades as he stirred in bed, Mia wrapped even more tightly in his arms. In her sleep she’d rolled over to him, and now she was squashed up next to him so he could feel every delectable line and curve of her warm, warm body.
Her eyes fluttered open and she stared straight into his, her body stiffening as she realised how close they were.
‘Good morning,’ he said softly. ‘Ella is still asleep.’
Mia glanced down at their nearly entwined bodies, her breasts spilling out of her nightgown, pressed up against him. Colour flooded her face as she tensed even more.
‘What…?’
‘You were asleep,’ Alessandro said. ‘So was I.’
Her cheeks were stained crimson as she scrambled out of his embrace, buttoning up her nightgown with fumbling fingers.
‘I didn’t…’ she muttered, unable to look him in the eye.
‘Nothing happened, if that’s your concern,’ Alessandro said equably. ‘I would never take advantage of you, Mia. I promise you that.’
She opened her mouth, and Alessandro braced himself for what he was sure she would say. You already have. But then she closed her mouth and shook her head.
‘I’m going to have a shower and get dressed before we land,’ she said. ‘Can you watch Ella?’
‘Of course.’
She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but then she just shook her head again, slipping out of bed and hurrying to the en suite bathroom. The door closed behind her and Alessandro winced as he heard the lock turn with a decisive click.
CHAPTER TEN
