Modern Romance January 2020 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит
He made it sound so reasonable. So possible. Still Mia hesitated. ‘We still don’t even know each other, Alessandro.’
‘Which is why we’re giving it three months.’ He smiled and downed the rest of his champagne.
Three months, Mia thought, and then he’d expect her to marry him. And at that point, she had a terrible feeling she’d be the subject of another hostile takeover…impossible to refuse or resist. Alessandro would make sure of it.
Ella stirred in her seat, and Mia rose from where she’d been sitting. ‘She needs a top-up,’ she said. ‘And I’m really tired. I’ll feed her in bed and then go to sleep, if you don’t mind.’
‘All right.’ Alessandro had a thoughtful look on his face as he tracked her movements. She unbuckled Ella from her seat and scooped her up, breathing in her sweet baby scent, savouring the innocence of it. All this was for Ella’s sake, she told herself. Fighting Alessandro at every turn would only end up hurting Ella. For her daughter’s sake, she had to get along with this man. She had to give this—them—a try, even if everything in her still railed against it.
‘Please let me or a member of staff know if you need anything,’ Alessandro said solicitously. ‘Anything at all.’
She nodded, knowing she needed to make an effort even though part of her resisted. ‘Thank you, Alessandro,’ she said stiffly.
Surprise flashed across his features, followed by a ripple of pleasure, and then he nodded. Mia turned and walked towards the back of the plane with Ella in her arms.
He should have thanked her back, Alessandro realised belatedly as Mia closed the door of the plane’s bedroom behind her. She’d thanked him; he should have thanked her, for going along with his plans, for agreeing to so much. But he hadn’t thought of it, and the realisation shamed him, an unexpected, unwelcome feeling.
What he was doing was reasonable and generous. He was offering Mia far more than she could ever have on her own—a lifestyle of which she would have never been able even to dream. And yet…in some way he was taking her freedom. He recognised that, just as he recognised she was taking his. Still, it had been his idea, his will. He recognised that too.
Restless, Alessandro rose from his seat to prowl the living area of the plane, knowing he wouldn’t be able to work or settle to anything. He should be feeling satisfied, having arranged everything as he’d wanted it. Within twenty-four hours of arriving in California, he had Mia and his daughter back on a plane to Tuscany.
All was going according to his plan. So why did he feel so…restless? So dissatisfied and hungry, in a way he didn’t expect or understand?
He sat down again, pulling his laptop towards him, determined to work. But after only an hour he realised he hadn’t got anything done; he’d been staring at a spreadsheet of profit margins for at least twenty minutes.
With a near growl, he pushed his laptop away and strode towards the back of the plane. He could check on Mia and Ella, at least, and make sure they were okay.
He opened the door as quietly as he could; the bedroom was swathed in darkness, the shades drawn down against the night sky, the only light coming from the adjoining bathroom, the door ajar.
Mia lay on her side, her hair spread across the pillow in a golden sheet, Ella in the middle of the bed, cradled gently in her arm, both of them fast asleep. As Alessandro came closer he saw that Ella had finished feeding; a milk bubble frothed at her lips, one fist flung upwards by her round cheek. His gaze moved to Mia, and something in him jolted as he saw she’d changed into a white cotton nightgown, its buttons undone so she could feed Ella, one creamy breast on display.
All of it together—mother, child—was beautiful to him, and made him ache and yearn even more than he had before. More than he’d ever let himself.
He wanted this. Not just Mia, not just Ella. All of it together. Them. A family, the family he’d always ached for but never known. Finally, it could be his. He hadn’t even realised how much he’d been missing it until it was here, offered up in front of him, tantalising and beautiful.
Resolution crystallised inside him, sharpening into focus. Whatever it took, whatever it meant, he was going to knit them into a family. He would make Mia leave her regrets and fears behind; he would work hard to make her want this as much as he did. He’d worked hard for everything in his life, he could work hard at this too, the most important thing. The most important business deal he’d ever make. Not a hostile takeover as Mia had once suggested, but a true and purposeful merger. A marriage.
Carefully, as quietly as he could, he took off his shoes and belt, leaving his clothes on for form’s sake as he stretched out on the bed next to Mia, gently putting his arm around her. She stirred, and he waited, his breath held, wondering what she would do. Then she let out a breathy sigh and relaxed into him, her body softening against his.
Desire and something far, far deeper roared through him, elemental and overwhelming. Yes, he wanted this. He wanted it with every fibre of his being. And he would have it. Eventually he would have it.
Alessandro didn’t know how long he slept, but he woke when Mia shifted next to him, gasping as she sat up, her hair tumbled about her shoulders, her face flushed.
‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep…’
Alessandro blinked the sleep from his eyes as he took in the magnificent sight of her, her body rosy and soft with sleep, her eyes bright, her nightgown still unbuttoned.
‘I thought that was your intention when you lay down in bed,’ he said, keeping his voice light.
‘I was feeding Ella, and then I was going to put her in the Moses basket.’ She nodded towards the sleeping basket that had been in her apartment, and had been brought to the plane. It was next to the bed, made up with a fleece-lined blanket.
‘She can go in there now.’
‘I shouldn’t have fallen asleep with her on the bed,’ Mia said. She sounded upset. ‘It can be dangerous…’
‘She’s fine, Mia. Look.’ With one hand on her shoulder, he turned her so they could both look at their tiny, sleeping daughter. ‘She’s fine. No harm done.’ He rubbed her shoulder, a touch meant for comfort but which made him decidedly less so. Her skin was warm and soft, her nightgown slipping off her shoulder. He fought the urge to slip his hand inside and cup the breast he’d already seen and that was quite, quite perfect.
‘Still…’ Mia muttered. She sounded half-asleep.
‘I’ll put her in the basket now.’ Awkwardly but tenderly Alessandro scooped Ella up, conscious of her fragility, her utter smallness. He still wasn’t used to holding her.
The baby barely stirred as he laid her in the Moses basket, drawing the blanket over her. Then he returned to the bed, where Mia had already fallen back to sleep.
Gently he brushed a tendril of hair away from her cheek, letting his fingers skim along her silky skin. Her breath came out in a soft sigh and she relaxed against him, her body warm and pliant.
Alessandro shifted so he was lying behind her, one arm around her waist. Awareness prickled painfully through him. Sleep, he knew, would be elusive. Then Mia sighed again and wriggled closer to him, so her bottom was nestled against his groin, her head tucked under his chin. Yes, sleep would be very elusive indeed.
Alessandro kept his body relaxed so Mia would stay asleep, savouring her closeness even as it remained an exquisite form of torture. He breathed in her citrusy scent, revelling in her soft warmth, the nearness of her.
He never slept with the women he bedded. He’d always operated alone, on every level. He’d been happy with that. Yet now he found her closeness comforting, a balm as well as an undoubted enticement. He desired her, but he was also content to have her simply lie in his