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Before her night with Cristiano, Hallie had barely been kissed. She’d had a few awkward kisses with her boyfriend in high school, who’d never tried to press the issue—with good reason, as it turned out, because as soon as he left for university he announced on Facebook that he was gay. And one time, Joe Larson, the mine owner’s son, had tried to force his tongue down her throat at a company Christmas party. Before Cristiano, that had been the sum total of her sexual experience.
And now he wanted to kiss her?
Now he wanted to marry her?
She was way out of her league.
Rising from the sofa, she walked heavily back to the guest room, where she found Jack sleeping peacefully. Putting on underwear and pajamas, she brushed her teeth and crawled into the bed next to her baby, knowing she wouldn’t sleep a wink.
But, somehow, she did. She rose only once in the night, to feed the baby. When Jack next woke her with a hungry whimper, she saw golden light flooding the window. She sat up in shock, realizing that she’d just had the best night’s sleep in months. How was that possible?
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said, smiling at the baby, who gurgled and waved his arms at her.
When mother and baby came out into the main room some time later, both of them were dressed—Hallie in a soft pink sundress of eyelet cotton and sandals, the baby in a onesie and blue knit shorts. She stopped when she saw Cristiano sitting at the kitchen counter. Her cheeks went hot at the memory of last night. But why? she said to herself. Nothing had happened!
“Good morning.” Cristiano’s voice was gravelly as he set down his newspaper. “I trust you slept well?”
Hallie shifted her baby’s weight on her hip as she stood uncertainly in the kitchen, beneath a shaft of golden light from the windows. His eyebrows lifted as he waited. His handsome face was courteous, his dark eyes civilized. Nothing like he’d looked last night...
She shivered.
“Hallie?”
She jumped. “I slept well. Thank you.”
Hallie wondered when he would kiss her. She felt the weight of that debt between them. It’s just a kiss, she told herself, but she couldn’t quite believe it. She tried to tell herself that now that he’d had time to recover from the shock of learning he was a father, Cristiano probably wouldn’t repeat his demand for marriage. But looking into his hard-edged face, she couldn’t believe that, either. Cristiano Moretti was the kind of man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
He wanted to secure possession of their child. She knew that. But now she knew he wanted more.
He wanted her.
Nodding toward the marble countertop and holding out a china cup edged with fourteen-karat gold, he said gruffly, “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” Sitting down on one of the high barstools, keeping her baby securely in her lap, she watched in surprise as he poured her a cup of steaming hot coffee from a silver carafe. “You made coffee?”
“Room service.” He nodded at the tray. “There’s cream and sugar.”
“Thanks.” Too late, she saw the wheeled carts nearby and felt foolish. Adding copious amounts of cream and sugar to her coffee, she took a sip and sighed with pleasure. Glancing at him, she said shyly, “Would you like to hold the baby?”
Cristiano hesitated, looking down at the plump, babbling three-month-old. He shook his head. “Maybe later.”
“All right.” She was surprised anyone could resist holding Jack, with his adorably goofy smile and his fat little cheeks.
“I ordered you a breakfast tray. It’s been here an hour, so it might be cold.” Cristiano turned back to his newspaper.
“Thanks.” She didn’t feel hungry at all. She gave him a sideways glance. “You’re reading in Italian.”
He didn’t look up. “Yes.”
“And on paper rather than on a tablet.”
“So?”
“It’s very retro,” she ventured.
He didn’t answer. He seemed barely aware of her, while her hands were shaking from being this close to him. Had she somehow imagined the way he’d looked at her last night? Had he already forgotten that he’d demanded a kiss—and marriage?
Sitting at the marble counter that separated the sleek kitchen from the great room, Hallie looked slowly around his penthouse. Modern art was splashed across the walls. Strange, heavy sculptures were displayed on columns. Once Jack started to pull himself up and walk, those would be dangerous.
