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Eventually, when his exploration tired him out, Gianni crawled into her arms. She carried him inside, and, at the housekeeper’s direction, headed upstairs to the guest suite.
Just like everywhere else in the house
, it was opulently decorated. Thick luxurious carpeting muffled her footsteps as she made her way to an equally breathtaking bathroom. Every amenity had been provided, making her task of giving Gianni a quick bath an even more pleasant experience. After changing him into the lounge clothes she’d packed, she settled him into the multi-pillowed bed. She was barely a few pages into his favourite bedtime story before he fell asleep.
She was tempted to join him but the thought of Rocco coming in search of her made her reluctantly leave the room. Tentatively she made her way downstairs, only to discover that Rocco had left the house, with instructions for Mrs Simpson to feed her and a message to say he would see her in the morning.
Mia barely tasted her meal. For the life of her, she couldn’t stop her mind from dwelling on where Rocco had gone. Which brought her to another matter she couldn’t seem to stop her brain from dissecting.
Was Rocco seeking anyone? If so, how would it play out once they were married? He was a virile and passionate man, one who didn’t apologise about indulging his needs. And since she’d effectively closed the door to anything physical between them, did that mean he’d cater to those needs elsewhere?
The bite of jealousy seared so deep, it killed the dregs of her appetite. What he did in his private life didn’t...shouldn’t matter to her. Just as she had asked for her privacy, she would turn a blind eye to his. Wouldn’t she? But how would that affect Gianni? Realising she’d left one vital subject unexplored, she pushed her plate away.
Did she really have it in her to permit him to have liaisons with other women while married to her? The question kept her tossing and turning through the night, making her increasingly agitated and annoyed with herself for her inability to dismiss it.
This was a marriage in name only for the sake of their son. Surely what Rocco did outside ensuring Gianni’s care and well-being was none of her business?
After repeating that hollow-sounding statement to herself a few hundred times, she finally got to sleep, only to awaken what felt like a handful of hours later to bright sunshine. Momentarily disoriented, she rose and rushed to Gianni’s room, to find his room empty and a young girl, who introduced herself as Mrs Simpson’s niece, making his bed. After she smilingly informed her Gianni was downstairs with his father, Mia returned to her room. As much as she wanted to storm downstairs and ensure her son was fine, she knew she needed a little grounding time. Plus a quick look in the mirror cheerily announced the effects of her restless night.
After a quick shower she donned the dress she’d worn yesterday and went downstairs to find Gianni and Rocco tucking into their breakfast. She stopped at the sight of them, her heart flipping over at the similarity between the two. They remained oblivious to her for a few seconds, giving her a chance to absorb their interaction.
Gianni was regaling his father with a rambling tale while attempting to stuff miniature pancakes and fruit into his mouth. Rocco was smiling, his attention rapt on his son’s face.
An instant later he looked up, his hawk-like eyes locking on her. ‘Buongiorno. Are you going to join us?’
Gianni looked her way and broke into a wide smile. ‘Mummy!’
Her heart filling, she approached him and dropped a kiss on his head. Taking the seat next to her son, she glanced at Rocco. ‘Why didn’t you wake me when he woke up?’
‘We have a busy day today. I felt an extra hour or two in bed wouldn’t do you harm.’
‘Busy day?’ she echoed as she helped herself to coffee. Rocco pushed a platter of pastries towards her. ‘I thought your little minions had everything covered?’ she asked, a little bitterly.
‘We aren’t just flying home to Palermo. When we get there you have event planners ready to liaise with you regarding the wedding. You are planning on being involved, aren’t you?’ he drawled.
That ground-shifting sensation returned. ‘Is there any reason why we need to rush into this so soon? Can’t we wait a few months?’
His eyes flicked to his son. When they returned to hers, their ferocity was intensified. ‘I like to strike while the iron is hot, cara.’ His voice was deceptively soft, for Gianni’s sake, she suspected. ‘And because I’d prefer my son in the rightful place that has been denied him since his birth.’
‘Are you sure that’s not your Sicilian machismo talking?’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps so. But I still want what I want. And I won’t be denied.’
Before she could respond, a bell sounded. He tossed his napkin down, ruffled his son’s hair before rising to his feet.
‘That’ll be my lawyer now. Finish your breakfast and join me in the study. There are some papers to sign.’
Mia blindly reached for her coffee cup, reassuring herself that it didn’t matter in the long run when she married him. It was going to happen anyway, so why not get it out of the way?
She ate her breakfast, then fed Gianni the last pieces of fruit. As if by telepathy, Mrs Simpson appeared. Reluctantly, Mia handed her son over, and made her way to Rocco’s study.
The same Italian lawyer who’d questioned her at the meeting yesterday greeted her neutrally, before producing papers the moment she settled in the chair in front of Rocco’s desk.
The twenty-page document was meticulous, outlining in stark detail everything she’d agreed with Rocco. In return for marriage, she would get her previous position in his company back. The marriage would be mutually dissolved once his grandmother’s health was improved or at such time as Gianni wasn’t adversely affected by a divorce between them.
Mia moved on, her stomach twisting weirdly every time she read the word divorce.
She froze when she saw the sums detailed for her in settlement for her future divorce. She looked up at him. ‘I don’t want your money,’ she said, her voice sharp and uneven.
