Reunited by a Baby Secret (The Vineyards of Calanetti, Book 3) Read online

  She saw the moment he decided to stop fighting it and her heart soared. His eyes gleamed. ‘Pleasure, huh?’ He ran his hands down her sides, thumbs brushing her breasts and making her bite her lip. ‘How much pleasure?’

  ‘I’m greedy,’ she whispered.

  His hands cupped her buttocks, his fingers digging into her flesh through the thin cotton of her skirt.

  She clutched his shoulders, swallowing back a whimper. ‘I want a lot of pleasure.’

  ‘A lot, huh?’

  His fingers raked down her thighs with deliberate slowness...and with a latent promise of where they would go when he raked them back up again. Marianna started to tremble. Despite the weakness flooding her she managed to toss her head. ‘As much as you have to give.’

  His eyes darkened with wolfish hunger. ‘Whatever the lady wants.’ He eased forward to draw her nipple into his mouth and Marianna lost herself in the pleasure.

  And the newfound joy that gripped her and seemed to bathe her entire being in sunlight.

  * * *

  The sound of Ryan’s mobile phone ringing woke her. Through half-closed eyes, Marianna watched him reach for it, the long, lean line of his back making her mouth water.

  He glanced back towards her and she smiled, sent him a little wave to let him know she was awake and that he didn’t need to be extra quiet or leave the room. One side of his mouth kinked up, his eyes darkening as he took in her naked form beneath the sheet. She stretched cheekily, letting the sheet fall to her waist and his grin widened. It made her heart turn over and over. And over.

  He finally punched a button on his phone and turned away to concentrate on his call.

  A tumbling heart?

  Very slowly Marianna sat up, a tight fist squeezing her chest as she continued to stare at Ryan. Her mouth went dry. She drew the sheet back over her. It took all her strength not to pull it right over her head. What on earth had she gone and done?

  She didn’t want to let this man go. Ever.

  Her hands fisted. When had it happened? How had it happened? Why...?

  She swallowed. What did any of that matter? What mattered was that she wanted Ryan to stay here with her forever and be a true partner. She wanted him to share in the day-to-day rearing of their child. She wanted to see him last thing at night and again first thing in the morning.

  She loved Ryan.

  He doesn’t want that!

  She bit down on her lip to stop from crying out, rubbing a hand across her chest to ease the ache there.

  You should never have slept with him.

  She waved that away with an impatient movement. Sex had nothing to do with it. Sex wasn’t the reason she’d fallen in love with him. His determination to become a good father, his care and consideration of her, the effort he’d put into making a good impression on her brothers, the fact he wanted her to be happy—they were the reasons she’d fallen in love with him. She passed a hand across her eyes. It seemed for the last week she’d been doing her best to hide from that fact.

  What good was hiding, though?

  And yet, what good was facing the truth? He loved his work more than he’d ever love her.

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can!’

  She snapped to at Ryan’s words. ‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded, pushing her own concerns aside at his grim expression and the greyness that hovered in the lines around his mouth.

  ‘My mother has been taken ill. I need to return to Sydney as soon as I can.’

  He had a mother?

  She hadn’t realised she’d said that out loud until he said, ‘And a father. They divorced when I was young. They both have new families now.’

  Which meant he had siblings. And yet...amidst this big family Ryan managed to be a lone wolf?

  She surged out of bed, pulling on her dressing gown to race into the spare bedroom after him where he’d set about throwing clothes into his suitcase. She wanted to hold him, chase that haggard look from his face. ‘What can I do?’

  He stilled from hauling on a clean pair of suit trousers. He zipped them up and then moved to touch her face with one hand. ‘I just want you to look after yourself and the baby.’

  If he left now she’d have lost him forever. She’d never get the opportunity to win his love.

  It could be for the best—a quick, clean break.

  But...

  Lone wolf.

  If something terrible happened—if he received dreadful news or, heaven forbid, if his mother died—who would be there to comfort him, to offer him support and anything else he needed?

  She moistened her lips, pulling the dressing gown about her all the more tightly. ‘Can I come with you?’

  * * *

  Ryan froze at Marianna’s request. He turned. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

  She pushed a strand of gloriously mussed hair behind her ears. ‘I didn’t know you had a family.’

  He didn’t. They were a family and he was an outsider. They were simply people he happened to be related to by blood.

  So why is your heart pounding nineteen to the dozen at the thought of your mother lying in a hospital bed?

  He pushed that thought away and focused on Marianna again. She swallowed. ‘I’d like to meet them. They’ll be a part of our baby’s life and—’

  ‘A small part,’ he said. ‘A very small part.’

  She thrust out her chin and he found himself having to fight the urge to kiss her. ‘You’ve met my family.’

  ‘Not your parents.’

  ‘But you will,’ she promised. ‘Just as soon as I can arrange it.’

  How could she so easily make him feel part of something—like her family—when there was no place for him in it? It had to be an illusion.

  ‘I don’t mean to be gone long, Marianna. I need to be back in Rome in two weeks at the latest—’ preferably sooner ‘—to settle the contract I’ve been working on.’

  One of her shoulders lifted and then she surged forward to grip his hand. ‘Ryan, we’re friends, right?’

  Were they? It was what he’d been striving for, but the word didn’t seem right somehow.

  Because you slept with her, you idiot.

  He shook that off. He couldn’t regret last night if he tried his hardest. He’d only regret it if it’d hurt Marianna.

  He stared down into her eyes—their warmth and generosity caught at him. Her gaze held his, steadily. Neither pain nor regret reached out to squeeze his heart dry, only concern. Concern for him. He swallowed. Friendship might not be the right word, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t continue to strive for exactly that.

  ‘Ryan, I’d like to be there for you if you receive bad news.’

  It took an effort to lock his knees against the weakness that shook through him when he realised the kind of bad news she referred to. It didn’t make sense. He was barely a part of his mother’s life. Or his father’s. Family made no sense to him at all.

  But it made sense to Marianna. That might come in handy. She might be able to help him to navigate the tricky waters ahead.

  She attempted a smile. ‘I might even be able to make myself useful.’

  He wanted her to come with him. The thought shocked him.

  It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything.

  He pulled in a breath. He supposed he’d have to tell them all at some point that he was going to become a father. That would be easier with Marianna by his side.

  Finally he nodded. ‘Okay, but I want to be on the first available flight out of Rome for Sydney.’

  She raced back towards her bedroom. ‘I’ll be ready!’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘TELL ME ABOUT your family.’

  Ryan fought a grimace as he shifted on his seat—a generous business class seat that would recline full length when he wanted to sleep. Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment, though. He wished planes had on-board gyms. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Do both of your parents live in Sydney
?’

  In stark contrast to him, Marianna looked cool and comfortable and very delectable. He tried to tamp down on the ache that rose up through him. ‘Yes.’

  She stared as if waiting for more. He lifted a hand. ‘What?’

  ‘Sydney is a big city, Ryan.’

  Right. ‘They live in the eastern suburbs. In adjoining suburbs, would you believe? It’s where they grew up.’

  She pursed her lips and he waited for her next question with a kind of fatalistic resignation. He supposed it’d help pass the time.

  ‘You said they divorced when you were young. How old were you?’

  ‘Four.’

  ‘And...and did they share custody?’

  Her questions started to make sense. He shook his head. ‘I went to live with my maternal grandmother.’

  She smiled and he couldn’t explain why, but it bathed him in warmth. It made him very glad to have her sitting beside him. ‘The grandmother who taught you to make curtains?’

  ‘The very one.’

  ‘Where were your parents? What were they doing?’

  ‘They went their separate ways to “find” themselves.’ He couldn’t stop himself from making mocking inverted commas in the air.

  She turned more fully in her seat to face him, crossing her legs in the process, and her skirt rode up higher on her thigh. He stared at the perfectly respectable amount of flesh on display, remembering how he’d run his hands up her thighs last night...and how he’d followed with his mouth. He wished he could do that right now—lose himself in the pleasure of being in her arms, give himself over to the generous delights of her body.

  ‘That makes them sound very young. How old were they?’

  He pulled himself back. He had to stop thinking about making love with Marianna. It couldn’t happen again. Already it was starting to feel too concentrated, too...intimate. Like an affair. He didn’t do affairs. He did one-night stands. He did ships passing in the night. He did short-term dalliances. Somehow, from the wreck of his and Marianna’s entanglement, he had to fashion a friendship that would endure the coming years.

  Boring.

  He stiffened. It was the responsible route. The essential route. And like everything else he’d turned his hand to, if he worked at it hard enough he would achieve it.

  ‘Ryan?’

  He shook himself, dragged a hand down his face. ‘They were eighteen when they had me.’

  ‘Eighteen?’ Her eyes widened. ‘I’m twenty-four and most days I don’t feel ready for parenthood. But eighteen? Just...wow.’

  He’d started to realise that parenthood frightened her as much as it frightened him. It was why he had to remain close and keep things pleasant between them. When motherhood and the responsibility of raising a child overwhelmed Marianna, when it lost its gloss, he’d be there to take over.

  ‘How long did you live with your grandmother?’

  ‘Until I was nineteen.’

  Her jaw dropped. She shuffled a little closer, drenching him with her sweet scent. ‘You never lived with your parents again?’

  He stared at the back of the seat in front of him. ‘I visited with them.’ But he’d never fitted in. It had always been a relief to return home to his grandmother. He’d only kept up the visits because his grandmother had insisted. For her he’d have done anything.

  ‘So, you and your parents, you’re not what one would call...close?’

  ‘Not close at all.’

  ‘But...’

  He turned and met her gaze.

  ‘You’ve dropped everything to go to your mother.’

  ‘That’s not a mystery.’ He turned back to the front. ‘I’m the one with the money, and money talks. I can make things happen.’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘Get in the best doctors, fly in the top specialists, fast-track test results—that kind of thing.’ He’d do that—make sure everything was in place for his mother—and then he’d hightail it back to Italy to wrap up the Conti contract.

  Marianna blinked and then frowned. ‘That’s terrible!’

  It took an effort of will to stop his lips from twisting. ‘It’s the way the world works.’

  She was silent for a moment. ‘I meant it’s terrible that’s the way you feel, that that’s the role you see for yourself in your family.’

  Maybe he should’ve taken the time to pretty it all up for her, except she’d see it all for herself soon enough.

  ‘You have siblings?’

  Tiredness washed through him. ‘Yes.’ He didn’t give her the time to ask how many. ‘My father is onto marriage number three. He has a daughter to wife number two and two boys with wife number three. My mother has one of each with her second husband. The eldest of them is twenty-two—my mother’s daughter who has a toddler of her own. The youngest is my father’s son who is thirteen.’

  ‘Wow. Where do you spend Christmas?’

  ‘Not in Australia.’

  She nodded, but the sadness in her eyes pierced him, making his chest throb. ‘Why don’t you get some sleep?’ he suggested. She must be bone-tired. ‘You didn’t get a whole lot of rest last night.’

  The sudden wicked grin she flashed him kicked up his pulse, making his blood pump faster. ‘I wish I was getting next to no sleep tonight for exactly the same reason.’

  So did he. Except... No affairs. He knew she’d said no promises, but... ‘Do we need to talk about last night?’ Did they need to double-check that they were still on the same page?

  She smiled a smile so slow and seductive he had to bite back a groan. ‘We can if you like,’ she all but purred. ‘There was a manoeuvre of yours that I particularly relished. It was when you—’

  He pressed a finger to her lips, his heart pounding so hard the sound of it filled his ears. ‘Stop it!’ But a laugh shot out of him at the same time. ‘You’re incorrigible. Give me some peace, woman, and go to sleep.’

  ‘On one condition.’

  ‘Anything!’

  ‘Kiss me first.’

  Her eyes darkened with an unmistakable challenge. He leaned towards her. ‘Do you think I won’t?’

  She leaned in closer still. ‘I’m very much hoping you will.’

  He seized her lips in a fierce kiss, not questioning the hunger that roared through him. He didn’t gather her close. He didn’t even cup her face. She didn’t reach out a hand to touch him either, but a kiss he’d thought would be all fire and sass changed when her lips parted and softened and moved beneath his with a warmth and a relish that shifted something inside him. He went to move away, but her lips followed and he found himself unable to stop; he surged forward again to plunder and explore that softness and warmth, to pull it into himself. The kiss went on and on...and on, as if she had an endless supply of something he desperately needed.

  Eventually they drew apart. ‘Mmm...yum.’ Her tongue ran across her bottom lip as if savouring the taste of him there.

  He had no words. All he could do was stare at her. She reclined her seat. She reached out a hand to his knee; her touch... He couldn’t find the right word for it—comforting, reassuring? ‘Put your seat back and keep me company.’

  He covered her with a blanket first and then did as she bid.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ she murmured, not even opening hers to see if he obeyed.

  After a moment, he did. He could feel sleep coming to claim him and suddenly realised that Marianna’s kiss had stolen some of the sting from his soul. He had no idea what it meant. He breathed air into lungs that didn’t feel quite so cramped and drifted off to sleep, promising himself he’d work it out later.

  * * *

  He slept for three hours. Not just dozed, but slept. He woke and stretched, feeling strangely refreshed. He checked his phone, but there weren’t any messages.

  Half an hour later, Marianna stirred. ‘Sleep well?’ he asked when she opened her eyes.

  ‘Perfectly,’ she declared, sitting up. ‘You?’

  He nodded.

  She sent him
a grin that made his blood sizzle. ‘Wanna kiss me again in a little while when I’m ready for another snooze?’

  He laughed, but shook his head—trying to ignore the ache that surged through him. ‘We can’t keep doing that.’

  She reached for the bottle of water the stewardess had left for her. ‘I expect you’re right, but I mean to enjoy it while it lasts.’

  How long would it last? More to the point, how long did he want it to last? Could they maybe make love one more time without Marianna’s heart becoming entangled? Twice more? He’d give up a lot to have another week like they had in Thailand.

  But not at the expense of screwing up friendship and fatherhood.

  His seat suddenly felt as hard and unyielding as a boulder. He excused himself and bolted to the rest room to dash cold water onto his face, to stare at himself in the mirror and order himself to keep his hands and lips to himself.

  When he couldn’t remain in there any longer without exciting comment, he forced himself back to his seat. ‘Why don’t you tell me about your parents?’ he suggested, hoping conversation would keep his raging hormones in check. ‘It seems that you and your brothers have different opinions on the subject.’

  She nodded. ‘Mamma and Papà have a very...tempestuous relationship. They’re both very passionate people.’

  Sounded like a recipe for disaster to him.

  ‘When we were growing up there were a lot of...um...rather loud discussions.’

  ‘Fights.’

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘A bit of shouting...a bit of door-slamming.’

  He recalled the way she’d thrown that vase at him.

  Uh-huh, utter nightmare. He thanked the stewardess when she brought him the drink he’d requested.

  ‘They divorced once. And then they remarried.’

  He choked on his drink. ‘But...why?’

  She lifted one slim shoulder. ‘It’s the same now. They’re currently in America, but their relationship is as fiery as it ever was. They’re forever threatening to leave each other, storming out for a few days before coming back. On again off again.’ She gave a low laugh. ‘They can’t live without each other. It’s wildly romantic.’