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No matter how much she wanted to keep her son to herself, she knew that he would benefit from getting to know the Italian side of his family.
But before she gave an inch of ground to Rocco, she needed to put in a few contingencies.
She played with Gianni for another half hour and then left him with the housekeeper and returned to the living room.
Rocco wasn’t there.
About to go in search of him, she turned down the hallway.
She saw him coming down the stairs, a pillar of vitality and rugged handsomeness that stopped her dead in her tracks. Heat rose in her belly, and within seconds engulfed her whole body. He’d changed from the bespoke suit he’d worn earlier into a pair of stylish trousers and a polo shirt.
His hair was sexily dishevelled, as if he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly. Her fingers tingled, the urge to do the same overwhelming her for a shocking second before she wrestled the feeling under control. She might have had that liberty in the past, but no more. From here on out everything needed to be clinically platonic. She firmed lips that had parted at the sight of him, locking her knees as hawk-like eyes latched onto her.
She held her breath, delaying breathing him in as he stopped before her.
‘Are you lost on the way somewhere or were you looking for me?’ he drawled, sinful lips curved in amusement.
‘We need to talk.’
One eyebrow rose. ‘You’ve come to a decision so soon? I imagined I would be strung along for several hours, possibly a day at least.’
She shrugged. ‘There’s no point in delaying for the sake of theatrics. I’ve made up my mind.’
He regarded her steadily for a few tight seconds, his own breath seemingly held as he tried to read her. Then he nodded briskly. ‘Come into my office. You can tell me what you’ve decided.’
He walked away, leaving her to follow.
His office was a masculine space, floor-to-ceiling bookcases interspersed with paintings and sculptures Rocco collected from far-flung places, turning the space from a simple office into a cultural and architectural masterpiece.
Mia wanted to stop and admire each piece of art, eagerly enquire of its provenance. Ask if their shared love of books had initiated this magnificent creation in the house he claimed he’d designed for her. She held her tongue. Because this wasn’t three years ago. She might have given her body and what she thought was her heart to him a long time ago, but they were now strangers. Evidenced by the look on his face as he perched on the corner of his desk, arms folded, and regarded her with cool expectancy.
‘Tell me then, cara, what have you decided?’
She held the decision tightly in her chest, debating the wisdom of her answer for one final second. But really, she had very little alternative.
She would do anything for her son. And denying him a bond with his father was unfathomable to her.
So, with her fingers bunched and her heart banging against her ribs, she announced her decision. ‘I will marry you.’
A different sort of tension seized his frame, his nostrils flaring in the throbbing silence that followed. ‘Repeat it for me, cara. Just so we’re both clear that—’
‘Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me. I said I will marry you,’ she repeated, her voice firmer, resolute. ‘But before you go crowing about getting your way, I have a few stipulations of my own.’
His breath eased out of him, his stance growing deceptively relaxed as he rested his hand next to his taut thigh. ‘Of course you do. Perhaps I should be glad we’re both laying all our cards on the table?’
‘You should. I’m assuming we will be staying at the villa in Palermo?’
He nodded. ‘When we’re in Sicily, yes. But the villa in Rome and the apartment in Milan are still available should we need them when we’re on business.’
She licked her lip, suddenly reticent about her demand. ‘And...the Palermo villa...it’s the same villa you owned when... I mean three years ago?’
‘Sì,’ he replied, his voice low and silky smooth despite the speculation narrowing his eyes.
Mia nodded, a little bit of the tension easing out of her. ‘My stipulation is for separate sleeping quarters. I’m assuming you’re still using the north wing, so I’ll take the guest quarters in the east wing.’
He shook his head. ‘That won’t work. The east wing is currently occupied by Allegra and her children. And the west is still occupied by my grandmother. Unless you wish me to throw one of them out...’ His voice trailed mockingly.
‘Of course, I don’t want that,’ she said even while her stomach dipped alarmingly.
