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“Did you truly believe you could come here today and tell me I’m going to become a father and then walk away again?”
Her cheeks flushed pink but her eyes held a warning. “Of course.”
“Then you were wrong, and very naïve.”
It sparked anger in her eyes. “I was naïve once with you and believe me, I’ve learned not to be that way again.”
He ignored that, sweeping it aside. “You know me.”
Her eyes clashed with his. “Not anymore.”
He shook his head, refusing to let go of her gaze. “You know me.”
She gnawed on her lower lip, uneasiness spreading through her. She knew him. Not as a husband, and not as a man, really, but she knew Massimo Montebello: the legend, the ruthless tycoon, and she knew the power of the family he came from.
“And?” Damn it. The question emerged breathy, far weaker than she’d have liked.
“Do you think I would ever avoid my responsibilities like you are suggesting?”
Her heart thumped. “You don’t bear any responsibility here. I can afford to care for our child, and I’m very happy to do this solo.” As she spoke the words, she acknowledged that they weren’t quite accurate. She’d do it on her own because she couldn’t see an alternative, but the woman who’d been a part of the perfect family until her mother’s sudden death had wrenched that away from her, she knew she would have wanted, more than anything, to give that same perfect family to her own child. A mother and father so desperately in love, so happy, that it wasn’t possible for the child to feel anything but surrounded in adoration.
“I know what family means to you,” he said, pressing against one of her deepest vulnerabilities. “You may like to pretend we are strangers but that’s not the case. In the year we were married, I learned a lot about you.”
Alessia’s mouth dropped open to reveal a perfect ‘O’. “To my recollection, you spent the year we were married doing your level best to ignore me.”
His smile was ruthless, his eyes glittering with coldness. “Easier said than done.” His jaw tightened. “But I did not need to spend hours talking to you to understand you, cara. I watched you grow up, remember? I saw the effect Imogen’s death had on you,” he said, referring to the loss of her mother. “I saw the way you bent over backwards to please your father, always trying to bring a smile to his face, a smile he never seemed to have after she died.” He lifted a hand, curving it over her stomach. “I saw your happiness at the prospect of marrying me – a man much older than you – and knew that it was because you thought it would please your father. How do you think he will feel if he knows I have proposed now and you have refused?”
Her rapidly firing pulse was making her dizzy. She forced herself to concentrate. “You haven’t proposed to me.”
“I am proposing now.”
“As in…marriage?”
“No, a trip to the circus,” he said with a mocking twist of his lips. “Of course marriage.”
Lightning bolts flashed inside of her. There was no way she’d let history repeat itself. Not when the first time had been so disastrous for her. “Nuh uh. No way. I’d rather walk a mile bare foot on hot coals than ever become your wife again.” And as she threw the words at him, she was glad they sounded so firm – as though she really did mean them.
Chapter Four
“YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY to give your father not just a grandchild but also news of our reunion, our marriage – something he’s always wished for.”
Alessia’s eyes glittered like diamonds in her face. “Being your ‘wife’ taught me many things too, including the stupidity of using marriage to boost my father’s happiness. I was little more than a child then; that stupidity was understandable. Forgivable, almost. But I’m not that young woman anymore. I know more, I am more. In some ways, you did that to me.” She drew herself up to her full height, fixing him with a determined stare. “I know I can raise our daughter on my own. I know I’ll be a great mother to her. I don’t need you.”
“But what about her?” He pushed, moving a little closer, so her veins began to spin with the torrent of her blood.
Something like doubt was there too, nudging at her sides. “What about her?”
“What does our daughter need? What does she deserve?”
Alessia swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Don’t use her to manipulate me.” The words were laced with steel, despite her racing heart and pounding blood. “I’m done being pushed and pulled in whatever direction you or my father see fit.”
Something flecked in the depths of his eyes. Surprise? Respect? Uncertainty? When they were married, he’d held the whip hand. He’d been older and despite her girlish crush – one she’d cherished for a long time – she was intimidated by him, completely over-awed by his strength and dynamism. But that was a long time ago. She’d changed, just like she’d told him.
When he’d proposed to her, all those years ago, she’d been so ridiculously overjoyed and excited, exhilarated to realise that the object of her long-held affections returned her feelings. But he hadn’t. Worse than that was the realisation that he’d never even really pretended to. When she replayed his proposal after the fact – when they were married and the die well and truly cast – she’d realised that his words had been carefully chosen. Our marriage will make your father so happy, cara. This wedding makes a lot of sense. We can make a good life together. All promises that hinged on sense and rationale, and had very little to do with the capturing of one’s heart.
Perhaps Alessia had loved him so hard and fiercely that it was all she could hear? She’d certainly never noticed that he spoke of their marriage in pragmatic terms. Mortification still had the power to curl her toes, especially when she remembered the number of times she’d begged him to make love to her.
She spun away from Max now, looking towards the window, out over the ancient city. Usually the sight of its beauty called to her, filling her with pleasure, but not today. A frown tugged at her lips and her heart remained heavy.
