His Royal Love-Child (16 page)

“I thought it would bother me more to have my co-workers know that you’re my lover, but it doesn’t. I know I’m good at my job and don’t trade on our relationship. That’s all that really matters.”

“So, I
am
your lover?”

“Um…I don’t understand the question.”

“It is a matter of how many beds will be occupied in my home this night.”

Crunch time.
She hadn’t expected to have to share her decision over the phone. “You seemed pretty intent on getting some use out of one of your spare bedrooms.”

“If that is what you need to feel comfortable moving into my home, then so be it.”

She didn’t know what she needed. She wished she did, but realizing she was pregnant had muddled everything up in her brain and her heart was already a hopeless mess. “I like sleeping in your arms,” she admitted.

“I, too, like this.”

“I know, but…”

“But?” he asked, a tremendous amount of tension conveyed in that single word.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to make love to you. If I did, you’d see it as capitulation. You’d start planning the wedding.”

“You know me well.”

“I suppose.
In some ways.”

“So, you would allow me to sleep next to you, but do not wish me to touch you intimately?”

“Yes, but…”

“Another but?”

“It isn’t fair to you. I know you’d want to make love.”

“I will take what I can get right now.” He didn’t sound happy, only resigned.
But then
he didn’t sound super disappointed, either.

“Do you find my pregnancy a turn-off?”

“How can you ask me such a question?”

“Well, you’re taking this better than I thought you would.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Only in the way you react, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I mean, I know what I need right now…”

“And that is?”

“Space.”

“I cannot give you that.”

“If you don’t try to make love to
me, that
will be more space than I expected from you in your current territorial mood.”

“You believe that my
territorial mood
as you put it is a result of your pregnancy?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I did not want our relationship to end, prior to me finding out about it?”

He was right, that didn’t make any sense, but…“It’s all muddled in my head and sex will only make it worse. I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe it would make it better. I know it would for me.”

“No pressure. You promised.”

“When did I promise?”

“Just now?” she asked, rather than stated, because she wasn’t sure that’s what he had done.

“I promised to sleep with you without touching you intimately.”

“Yes.”

“I did not promise to pretend I no longer want you. Indeed if I did, your active imagination would no doubt have you thinking all sorts of wrongheaded scenarios.”

“It wouldn’t!”

“You can say this after asking me if I no longer found you sexually irresistible because of your pregnancy, merely because I had not reacted with enough disappointment to your no sex
edict?
”

“Oh…well, I suppose. Do you think
it’s
pregnancy or finally accepting I love you that has me so muddled?” she asked.

“Pregnancy.”
There was no doubt in his voice.

“I do love you,” she said with a catch in her voice. “I wish you would believe me.”

“Give me something to believe.”

“Like what?”

“Like marriage.”

She should have seen that coming.
“Anything else?”

“What else is there? You refuse me the succor of your body and the comfort of giving you and our child my name. I do not mean to hurt you,
Danette
, but that is not a love I can recognize.”

Her eyes began to burn. He didn’t mean to hurt her, but his lack of belief hurt all the same. “I need to get back to work.”

“Yes, I also.”

“I…um…are you sure you’re going to be okay with sleeping with me and not doing anything else? It’s just not what you’re used to,” she babbled, not even sure what she was trying to say. “Even when it was that time of month for me, we never slept completely platonically.”

And
she was afraid that even the lightest caresses on his part would crumble her defenses against making love.

An explosion of air sounded at the other end of the line. “If you are that worried about sharing my bed, then it would be best if you stayed in the guest room. I do not wish to importune you in any way.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Your meaning was clear. Do not let it concern you. I must go now.
Ciao,
bella
.”

“
Ciao
.”

But
she didn’t work after hanging up the phone, not for several minutes, as she blinked back tears and mulled over what he had said. Obviously it was important to him that she
sleep
with him. Why couldn’t she give him that much?

But
she knew why. She couldn’t trust her own shaky defenses where he was concerned. If they made love, for her it would be comfort…for him a commitment she was not yet ready to make.

D
ANETTE
woke after a less than satisfactory night in the guest room bed. Not that the bed was unsatisfactory in any way. Just like everything else in Marcello’s four-bedroom apartment, it was top-notch. The mattress was comfortable, the decor in the bedroom peaceful and eye catching, but she missed Marcello.

They had eaten in relative silence the night before, their conversation, what there was of it, centered
around
the baby. Marcello had excused himself directly after dinner to catch up on work in his study and she had tried watching television for a while. He still hadn’t come out of his study when she went to bed two hours later.

She ached from the distance she felt between them. It was worse than right after the breakup because her heart kept telling her that they
should
be together, they
could
be together, if not for her refusal.

She’d woken several times in the night, reaching for him only to find an empty bed. Had she been a fool to demand space that only seemed to hurt and add to her turmoil instead of making it easier to think,
like
it was supposed to? Was he right in thinking that making love would actually clarify their situation, not make it worse? Talking was supposed to help, but it felt like all they did was talk in circles.

She wanted him to accept that she loved him
before
they got married.
But
from what she could tell, it was going to take her risking marriage to him for him to believe her feelings were real.

If he had demanded it as proof of her love, she would rebel. That kind of emotional blackmail left her cold.

But
that wasn’t what was happening. He was genuinely confused by her actions. Everything he did and said showed just how little he understood what motivated her.
And
how little he believed that motivation was anything resembling true love. Maybe Bianca had been better at showing her love than
Danette
was, but then the other woman had known she was loved in return. That made a huge difference and
Danette
was only beginning to see how stingy unrequited love could be.

But
love shouldn’t be selfish and it shouldn’t hold back out of self-protection, either. In one respect, Marcello was very right. Love that was spoken, but not acted upon wasn’t much of a love at all.

Love shouldn’t make a woman a doormat, but it should make her strong enough to take risks she wouldn’t otherwise take.
Shouldn’t it?
Loving Marcello definitely shouldn’t make her act in a way that hurt him, but that was exactly what had happened.

Her rejection had hurt him every bit as much as his desire to keep her a secret and never to marry her had hurt her. She had absolutely no doubts on that score and it made her feel terrible. She didn’t want to hurt him.

Her thoughts were cut off by a vise squeezing tight around her stomach and an urge to throw up that had her leaping from the bed and running to the en suite. She was retching, her face clammy and her whole body aching, when a warm hand settled on the small of her back.

“Why did you not wait for me? I was bringing you tea and toast.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she breathed, feeling shaky and
light headed
, but her stomach finally settled.

He made a noise that was part protest, part remorse and she turned her head to rest against his body kneeling so close to hers.

He cupped her cheek. “
Amante
, what am I going to do with you?”

“Help me stand up?” she asked in a voice that was shockingly weak.

He said nothing more until he had not only done that,
but
helped her rinse her mouth with water and then washed her face and neck with a cool cloth.

When he was done, he lifted her in his arms and carried her back into the bedroom. “If I had been here, I would have known the moment you woke and been able to take care of you. This sleeping in separate beds is foolish!”

She nibbled on a piece of dry toast and sipped at weak, but very sweet tea while he vented his frustration in a mixture of Italian, English and a couple of other languages she could only guess
at
.

He finally wound down and sat beside her on the bed, his usually immaculate appearance having taken a decided turn for the worse. His hair was mussed from running impatient fingers through it and he’d even loosened his tie and the top button on his dress shirt as if he’d needed more air.

He took her hand in his big tanned one, his fingers playing softly over the back of hers. “I apologize. I am going on like a madman and you are feeling ill. Forgive me.”

“Wow. For a guy who doesn’t say he’s sorry very often, you’re really good at it.”

He grimaced. “Thank you. I think.”

She smiled, feeling much better than she had been five minutes ago. “I think you’re right though.”

“
You think I am right
?” He sounded stunned. “About us not sleeping in separate beds?”

She nodded, making no sudden movements that might bring back the nausea. “I slept very poorly last night.”

“You missed me?” Satisfaction gleamed in his blue gaze.

She had to stifle her own humor at his reaction. She didn’t think he would understand it, but humility simply was not his thing. “Yes.”

“I missed you, too,
tesoro
.”

“So…um…no more separate beds.”

“You are sure?”

“Positive.”

“And your concern I will try to seduce you?”

“I trust you.”

“That is something.”

Yes, it was.
But
was it enough?

She got her first personal taste of the intrusiveness of the press an hour later when she answered the phone in her office to discover a reporter who wanted a quote on her relationship with Marcello at the other end of the line. She hung up after a firm, “No comment,” and stopped answering the outside line on her phone altogether after the third such call.

Voice mail was a wonderful thing.

She really appreciated the fact that Marcello lived in a high security building with underground parking, and that
Scorsolini
Shipping also had underground parking and a crack security force. Somehow, word of her relationship with Marcello had gotten out and she had no desire to run a gauntlet of reporters to and from their car.

She wondered how he was handling the media attention. It was the one thing he’d made it very clear he did not want to deal with.
And now
they were smack in the middle of it. She shuddered to think what would happen when the press learned about the baby.

A light rap sounded on her open office door and she looked up.

Lizzy
came in, a grin on her face and her eyes lit with curiosity. “So, what is this I hear about you and the big boss having a thing?”

“Um…what did you hear?”

“Come on,
Danette
. It’s all over the place. You moved in with him and everything. I can’t believe I didn’t guess. Did it happen that night at the restaurant? But then how would you have gotten pregnant so fast?”

“Pregnant?” she asked faintly.

Lizzy
just looked at her.
Danette
had known word would spread around the company, so she needed to just bite the bullet and come clean with her friend. “We’ve been going out for a while.”

“In secret?”
Lizzy
asked with awe.

“Yes. Neither one of us wanted our relationship to become public knowledge.” Now was not the time to explain that the relationship, such that it was, wasn’t actually on anymore.

After agreeing to share his bed, even platonically, she wasn’t sure that was true anyway.

“I understand.”
Lizzy
leaned on the other side of
Danette’s
desk. “It’s going to make it a bit awkward for you around here, but you’re
fab
at your job and everybody knows it, and you’re definitely strong enough to handle what little flack may come your way.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Danette
smiled.

“So, are you really pregnant?”
Lizzy
whispered.

Danette
nodded.

Lizzy
squealed and came around the desk to hug her. “Congratulations,
chica
! That’s wonderful news! I’m so happy for you!”

Danette
laughed and hugged her friend back. “Thanks. I’m pretty happy about it.”

“Not when you’re puking, I bet you’re not.”

“It comes with the territory.”

“I won’t ask when the wedding is because I don’t want to accidentally let it slip and be responsible for the news cameras showing up, but I just want you to know I’m really, really, really happy for you.”