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“And yet it is so,” Christos replied with a small smile, his gaze settling on her with all its expectation. “Whatever you think of this situation for yourself, I hope you will consider what opportunities your child would have as the Amanti heir.”

“I don’t know if I want my child to have those kinds of opportunities,” Rose told him honestly. It was a point that had niggled at her ever since she’d started seriously considering going to Italy. “It seems like a lot of pressure and responsibility,” she continued. “Maybe too much.” Pressure and responsibility she could feel emanating from Christos himself—and see in every taut line of his beautiful face and body. He seemed burdened by it, even if he didn’t want to be.

“He or she will be raised to accept and bear that responsibility,” Christos replied swiftly. “It would be their privilege and honor, as it is mine.”

“Is it your privilege?” Rose asked, and Christos frowned, seeming almost offended by the question.

“Of course it is.” His tone brooked no argument.

“You just seem very…serious,” Rose said carefully. “And from the way you described Luca, he wasn’t. Was that because you’re the oldest, the heir?”

Christos had gone very still, his whole body taut. “I suppose it was a question of personality as much as birth order,” he replied, his tone represses. Rose could tell he didn’t like talking about it, and it made her wonder. Made her worry, too, and yet as undecided as she might sound right now to Christos, in her heart she knew, she feared, that she’d already decided she would go to Italy. There was simply too much at stake for her baby, never mind the Amantis, to walk away from it all without at least an initial investigation. But she wasn’t ready to tell Christos that yet, because she was pretty sure he was confident enough of his position as it was.

And yet she was the one, she reminded herself, who had the bargaining power. While on the internet, she’d also looked into custody laws around sperm donation, and she was pretty sure Christos Amanti didn’t have a legal leg to stand on.

So why, Rose wondered, did it not feel that way? Why did she feel like she was in thrall to this man in more ways than one? Not just with her future, but with her whole self, as well. Every time he looked at her she felt it, a heat flushing through her body, stealing through her veins, making her ache in ways she really wasn’t used to aching. It was inconvenient and embarrassing, and yet it was also as heady as any wine. It was a feeling, Rose knew, she could become addicted to. A feeling of excitement and longing, of expectation and possibility.

And of desire.

As if sensing the nature of her thoughts, his eyes glinting with that knowledge, Christos gave her a slow smile as he reached over to cup her elbow with one warm and sure hand. “Come,” he said. “I believe our supper has arrived.”

* * *

Christos led Rose back into the suite, conscious of the warmth of her skin pressing into his palm, the revealing way her breath hitched as his hip nudged hers when they walked. She was, he knew, as aware of him as he was of her. It was as if there was a thin, taut wire of electricity pulsing between them with every breath and step.

When her cheeks became touched with pink, he noticed. He saw the way her breasts rose and fell with every breath, too, and the way her dress clung to her curves—hip, breast, bump. Surprisingly, her pregnancy was not the turnoff he might once have expected it to be. It just made her seem rounder, riper and definitely more appealing.

The cool, business-minded part of himself considered how he could use this unexpected attraction to his advantage. If he could charm Rose into agreeing to come to Italy, soften her with compliments and pretty phrases, brushes and touches and lingering looks…

But he wasn’t, and never had been, like Luca, just as she’d so painfully pointed out. He was practical to the point of abrupt, plain-speaking to the point of terse. He didn’t know how to charm, and he’d never had to learn. His body and his bank account, he couldn’t help but think crudely, did the talking for him when it came to women.

As for Tiana…well, that had been an arrangement that had suited both their families, until it very much didn’t, on the cusp of his wedding. What he felt for Rose, what she felt for him, was something entirely different—unexpected, unruly, unwelcome.

Mostly.

And yet, he reminded himself, he needed something from Rose Delaney, something incredibly important, and indulging any kind of attraction was decidedly unwise.

“I didn’t know what you like to eat,” he told her as they walked into the dining room, “so I got a little bit of everything.” He pulled out her chair for her, and with a small, uncertain smile, she sat down, the long, wavy tresses of her hair falling over his wrists as he tucked her chair back in. When he breathed, he inhaled the sweet, clean scent of her—vanilla and roses. As she bent her head to spread her napkin on her lap, her hair fell down, obscuring her face, glinting in the light.

Good Lord, but her hair alone was enough to drive him mad. He kept picturing her sprawled on a bed like Venus on the half shell, her curves covered by nothing more than those golden-brown waves. It was an intoxicating image, and resolutely he pushed it out of his mind.

“Tell me what your plans were once you have the baby,” he invited as he lifted the lids on several silver chafing dishes—chicken in lemon sauce, fresh asparagus, crusty rolls, and a creamy risotto. “You are a teacher, yes? Would you take maternity leave?”

“Well, I was going to,” Rose told him ruefully as she helped herself to a small portion of the chicken and risotto. “But unfortunately I lost my job this morning. Budget cuts.” She sounded resigned but also accepting, and Christos stared at her in surprise.

“You lost your job?” It felt like quite a significant piece of information.

“Yes…it wasn’t the greatest timing, especially because I lost my health insurance with it.” She shrugged, her mouth turning downward. “But I’ll figure something out.”

He took a sip of his water, his mind spinning at this news. It really couldn’t have worked out better if he’d arranged her job loss himself. There was no reason at all for her to stay in New York…and all the reasons in the world to come to Italy. “So my invitation has really come at a most convenient time,” he remarked mildly. “Because of course while you are in Italy, you will have everything provided for, including, need I even say it, the best health care in the country, if not the world.”

“I did wonder if you’d arranged for me to lose my job,” Rose confessed with a small smile, her eyes gleaming. “But I decided even you don’t have enough power to control the New York Department of Education. Do you?”

The hint of uncertainty in his voice had Christos stilling. “Do you really think I would do something like that?” he asked quietly, and she shrugged.

“You came to New York. You somehow managed to find me in that café. You’re willing to arrange my travel back to Italy. Christos, I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

“I am an honorable man,” he stated, and he heard a note of something almost like hurt in his voice, which embarrassed him and made him realize that he wanted Rose to think well of him, ridiculous as that was. He cared what she thought.