Baby By Accident: International Billionaires III: The Italians (18 page)

Which she knew was far from the truth.

The thought made her grumpy. “What are you doing?”

He ignored her bad temper. He’d taken his sunny disposition from Paris and added a layer of saintly patience. It turned him into a man so passive and pleasant she’d occasionally thought his personality must have been transplanted while he waited for her in the hospital.

“You are looking hot,
mia dolce
.” His tone was mild and calm in contrast to her biting one. He swept her straw hat and sunglasses off, plopping them on the chair behind her.

I am hot
!
For you
!
Why don’t you feel the same anymore
?

Lise glared at him, with frustration. “I don’t want to get wet.”

He paid no heed to her objection. His grin held firm, along with his voice. “It’s time for you to get in the pool.”

Holding her hand as if she were a child, he tugged. His lips were sensuous, his teeth gleamed. His eyes twinkled. He was not to be denied.

“Oh, all right.”

Vico chuckled at her reluctant agreement as he led her into the shallow side of the pool.

She slipped down under the water, letting the cool cover her face and hair. Underwater, his body was even more impressive, the shadows of the sunlight riding the waves surrounding him, making his skin and muscles gleam and glow.

Popping her head out of the water for a breath, she found him staring down at her, hands on his narrow hips, water lapping at his waist.

“See?” He gave her gentle smile. “Isn’t that better?”

He was humoring her, damn him. Exactly as he’d humored her throughout the past three weeks.

Standing, the water lapping at her waist—
her fat waist
—Lise looked at him with impatience. She didn’t want to be treated like a child anymore. She wanted to be treated like a woman.

But if he insisted on treating her like a child, then that’s what he'd get.

Her arm arched out and scooped the water into a splash that was satisfyingly large. The water slapped his face, flung his hair back, covered his shoulders and arms.

“Ho!” His mouth dropped open in astonishment. Still, his reaction wasn’t quite enough.

The push was even better than the splash. He hadn’t seen it coming; he was even now trying to clear the water out of his eyes. His big body fell back, and she watched with satisfaction as he slid beneath the waves, hands flailing.

A whoop sounded from his brother. Then another from his aunt. The children crowed and jumped by the side of the pool and in it.

“Way to go!”

“Do it again! Do it again!”

“He deserved it!”

Yes, she thought, he did. Grinning, she looked around and gave a slight bow of acknowledgment. The crowd’s laughter and noise escalated.

Vico surged to his feet, the water splashing her sides and alerting her to the danger. Glancing at his face, she squeaked and turned, moving towards the side of the pool.

But she was too clumsy and slow and he was too determined and strong.

Muscled arms encircled her waist, lifting her off her feet from behind. His family laughed at her dilemma just as they’d laughed at his defeat.

Traitors.

His warm breath tickled the side of her cheek as he held her in his grasp. “I have you now, wife,” he growled in mock outrage.

All her crabby thoughts and irritable emotions were swept away by this golden moment. The sun was hot on her hair, the water was cool on her legs. His family,
her
family, laughed and joked around them. Her husband’s hands and arms held her gently in front of him. The heat of his body behind her comforted, while stoking her need at the same time. Right at this moment, she was suddenly gloriously happy. A giggle escaped her.

“What is this?” His voice came low and threatening, yet a hint of tease laced through the words. “You are daring to giggle at me?”

Lise threw her head back and laughed. A big belly laugh that filled her body and heart with a joy so intense, she knew she’d always remember this moment. The moment she was truly herself. The moment she felt fully accepted. The moment she was made for.

She glanced sideways to meet her husband’s gaze. His eyes were dark with…

Lust. With
lust
. Golden highlights sparked, green streaks blazed. His hips bumped the back of her and she felt him, felt the confirmation of his need.

Joy exploded into elation. She’d been wrong.

He still wanted her
.

Her laughter faded as she clung to his gaze.

What was it in his eyes? Something more than lust surely? Or was she dreaming?

Just like that, his eyes shuttered blank. He dropped her on her feet and stepped back.

Lise wobbled in the water, the shock of his withdrawal causing goose bumps to rise on the skin of her arms. “Vico?”

She twisted all the way around, only to see him hightailing it out of the pool. She watched with frank astonishment as he lifted a towel from a lounge chair without stopping and used it to wipe himself off as he climbed the terrace toward the villa.

Her husband was running away.

From his lust.

Some demented male reason was causing him to stay away from her.

Not her body. Not her weight gain. Not a lack of interest.

Lise stared after him with a determined glower. She’d had enough of this. He couldn’t run fast enough or far enough to get away from her and her questions.

And her seduction.

R
ibbons of moonlight
flitted across the hallway’s stones as a peaceful silence filled the night air.

A momentary amusement tugged a smile onto Lise’s face. How could a family fill a home with sounds so loud and varied one could barely think, but then sleep so soundly a woman could imagine herself alone in this stately villa? Granted, some of the group had left after dinner, however, there was still a sizable crowd behind these various doors.

She crept past all of them.

There was only one bedroom she was interested in. Only one person she hoped was not yet asleep. Perhaps it would be better if he was asleep, she thought, as she tiptoed past his momma’s room. Maybe she’d have more courage if she slipped into his bed and started touching before he was awake.

Just like the first time.

A shiver of anticipation zipped over her skin. It didn’t matter if he was awake or asleep. Either way, she was determined to seduce her husband now that she knew for sure she wasn’t the only one suffering from this driving need.

Her heart murmured a plaintive wail of worry, but she ignored it.

His room was at the end of the lengthy hall. Sliding her palm across the hand-carved teak door, she remembered arriving here on the first day. Remembered watching him as he left her in her solitary bedroom, pacing down this hallway like the devil was on his back. Remembered her feeling of unwanted desolation as she saw him open this door and close it behind him.

Shutting her out.

A deep breath filled her lungs and the joy she’d felt this afternoon rushed back.

Unlike the first day, when she’d thought he was running from her, she now knew
—knew—
this wasn’t the case. He wasn’t running from her, he was running away from his desire for her.

Why?

She had no idea, but she was going to find out and put an end to it.

Pressing her forehead on the cool wood, she gathered her courage. Perhaps she’d read it wrong this afternoon, maybe she’d misunderstood what she’d seen in his eyes. There was no way she’d misread his body’s reaction to being near her, though. The only thing she had to do was figure out what stupid male reason was behind keeping his distance, and then they could enjoy what they both wanted.

The realization flooded through her how different she’d become during these past three weeks.

Awareness stopped her for a moment.

The old Lise would never have thought of creeping down a hallway, intent on seduction. She wouldn’t have spent a moment lusting after a man. The old Lise would have been content to go along, keep the peace, stay aloof. She might not even have noticed there was no sex. She might have thought it was for the best.

She’d dreamed of making changes in her life, but they’d been all about the superficial, really. A new home, maybe. Standing up to her mother, probably. Still, she realized today what she’d needed was a change inside.

And the change had happened. Without her knowledge up until this point.

This was a risk. One the old Lise wouldn’t have taken. But now she was willing to risk her body as well as her heart in the attempt to win this man.

Win his body. Win his soul. Win his heart.

Make him her own.

During the last month, she’d become fully aware. Aware of the bloom of life within her. This new, surging life filled her with a pulsing need to grow and change and blossom. A life that demanded everything: all the love, connection, passion she could grasp in her hands. Life was about giving and taking and loving and wanting. It wasn’t about hiding, ignoring, stifling.

One man had shown this to her. Given her this gift and awakened her.

The man behind this door.

The door eased open with no sound.

His light was on. Her heart picked up its beat, thudding in her chest.

Lise stepped into the anteroom. Shadows blurred the outline of an antique sofa situated between two glass end tables. One wall was lined with his ever-present books; another covered with a multicolored tapestry. She’d never entered his lair before. She’d never been asked and she’d never dared.

Now, she dared.

The marble floor was cool on her feet until she reached the plush Persian rug. Stepping around the intricately engraved desk littered with his laptop and phone, she peered around the entryway into his bedroom.

The bed was king-sized, with huge posts of carved teak reaching for the ceiling. It rested in the center of the room, near the open terrace door. Light gold-and-green, floor-length drapes wafted in the faint breeze. Antique paintings of medieval maids and knights decorated the golden walls.

Her husband was in the bed, but not asleep. His back was propped on the massive teak headboard, his focus on the book in his hands.

He was naked. At least from the waist up.

Lise clutched the silk of her nightgown, the one she’d spent about a dozen hours looking at trying to convince herself she had enough sexual confidence to carry the gown off. The frilly thing had been a gift from Tracy and Suz for her honeymoon. They’d both winked and laughed, even in the face of her disdain. She’d never worn it until this point. She’d never dreamed she’d ever want to with this man. Or any man for that matter.

She needed all the help she could get tonight.

Surely he was naked.

The light spilled across his olive skin, highlighting the bulge of his biceps, the gloss of his dark chest hair. The golden-green covers were pulled to his waist so she couldn’t be sure…

Did her husband sleep nude?

She leaned her head on the doorframe and grimaced to herself. Here she’d been married to this man for almost two months and this was the first time she’d ever contemplated the thought. What a waste of time and opportunity.

Taking a step into the bedroom, the silk of her nightgown whispered in the cool air.

The movement was enough to catch his attention. Vico glanced over and froze.

“Lise?” His tone was hoarse. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She stuttered to a stop.

“The baby?”

“Is fine.”

She loved her son. Already she sensed the bond, the tug of infinite love. Still, this once, she’d like the baby to disappear so his father could see her.

Her, the woman. Her, the wife. Her, the lover.

Her
.

“Then…” his voice trailed off as his gaze trailed down and down.

The silk and lace were the color of red wine. A deep, rich scarlet which she’d thought, as she’d looked into the mirror minutes ago, contrasted nicely with her skin. She’d worried about the way the material wrapped snugly around her bulging tummy; however, the lace around her breasts highlighted the new lushness as well.

She’d thought. She’d hoped.

Her worries and fears surged in her and she almost lost her will. Turning and running seemed like it might be the right idea.

Until he looked up and met her gaze.

His golden eyes burned hot. His face flushed and the muscles of his chest and arms suddenly grew tense.

All thought of running vanished.

She started her slow progression to the bed. The walk she’d actually practiced in front of the mirror after putting on the nightgown. Ridiculously, she’d spent almost an hour pacing in front of the darn mirror, trying to learn how to be a seductress in one lesson.

He sucked in a deep breath, his chest rising.

Okay. The lesson seemed to be doing the trick. Now all she had to do was get into bed and Vico would surely take over. He was a masterful lover, the only thing she needed to do was land in the right place and her work would be done.

“Lise.” Her masterful lover’s lashes came down, covering his lustful gaze. He peered intently at the book in his hands instead of her. “What are you doing here?”

His tone was cool and dismissive, not hot and responsive.

She stopped her parade in the middle of the room.

Her courage plummeted.

Determination followed quickly behind. The new Lise would not be denied.

Reminding herself of the feel of his hips pressed to hers in the pool, she took another step forward. “Why do you think?”

Her husky, provocative voice prompted him to jerk his head upright again. She had to admit it was a voice she’d never used with him, with any man. Obviously, this was a useful skill to work on if her husband’s reaction was any indication.

The tiger eyes flared.

One more step and she stood at the foot of the bed. But her husband made no move to grab. Instead, the guy was holding on to the covers with a death grip, the book forgotten on his lap. What was his problem? Wrapping one arm around the tall teak post, she leaned on it, trying to think of what to do next. By now, she’d thought, hoped, he’d take the hint and take over.

He stared at her, his gaze was filled with wariness as well as yearning.

Evidently, she was going to have to make another move. She opened her mouth—

“Lise.” One long arm raised and slashed down as if he were trying to cut the cord of sexual desire tying them together. “I can’t—”

“I want you.” The words rushed out, attempting to stop his clear rejection. Fear leaped through her courage and threatened to win the day. Except she’d come this far, gone this deep, dared this much. “Vico, I—”

“No.”

The rejection thrust through her, causing a yawning slice of pain.

Then his jaw tightened as his gaze fell and the pain stopped.

She knew instantly.

This wasn’t a rejection of her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. For once, she trusted her instincts. She trusted her knowledge of this man—the tautness of his muscles, the tilt of his chin, the flex of his hands. He wanted her. So what was his problem? “Why not?”

“
Dio
.” His hand swept through his tousled hair, sweeping it back over his broad shoulders. “Isn’t it apparent?” he gritted. “The baby.”

She still didn’t understand. Was he being overly cautious? Hadn’t he heard the doctor correctly? “The doctor said it was—”

“That is not the problem.” His words were filled with agony.

Without thinking, she stepped to the bed and sat by his side. Lifting her hand, she slowly slid her palm across the rasp of hair on his jaw. He flinched, as if her touch burned him, and she dropped her hand.

But the rejection didn’t hurt anymore. Now it made her curious. “Then what is the problem?”

A tense silence fell. Only his harsh breath filled the air. Finally, he lifted his head and met her gaze. His eyes were no longer brimming with lust for her. Nor were they wary of her. Regret and guilt dulled the golden glints, hazed the green glow.

“Vico.” She had to touch him again. Her hands lifted to smooth across his cheeks. Trying to comfort him even though she didn’t understand. “What is it?”

“What I did was wrong.”

“When?” She frowned in frustrated confusion.

“That day.” His mouth grew grim. “In my office.”

Her frown deepened. They’d had so many confrontations in his office, she found it hard to sort out which one pushed him to reject her. “What day?”

“The day before you almost lost the baby.”

The stark words cut through her confusion like a fine blade. This? This was why he’d treated her like a fragile piece of glass he had to guard rather than a woman he desired? Obviously, yes. This was why he’d touched her only when he had to and then only for brief moments. This guilt was what had kept him from acting on what was so vivid and vital between them.

“Vico.” Leaning in, almost touching her nose to his, she stared straight into his eyes. “Do you mean the sex we had?”

His lips twisted. “Sex? Is that what you’d call it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, wishing it was more, but willing to accept what he could give. “Passionate, amazing sex.”

Jerking back, he placed his hands on her arms and pushed her away. “No, it wasn’t.”

Her hands dropped from his face at the rebuff and instantly, her determination crumpled. He hadn’t thought it was great sex? Was she still the Ice Queen no man could want warming him, wanting him?

She yanked away, ready to slip off the bed. But before she could escape, his hands grasped her again, stopping her.

“I can’t trust myself around you,” he muttered. “I can’t control myself.”

His tortured words stopped the hurt inside her in a flash.

He wanted her desperately. The need flooded his voice.

Courage welled once more.

Not once had she thought of their passionate encounter as the reason for her near-miscarriage. She’d known exactly who to blame when she’d awakened in the hospital. Herself. Her stubborn pride and stupid need to prove herself. To prove he was wrong. That was why she’d almost lost her baby. Yet clearly her husband had been hauling around a load of guilt so large he’d managed to lose his mind under the weight of it.

Time for this to stop. “What happened that day was wonderful.”

His hands fell back onto the cashmere duvet with a wrench, as if the touch of her was all of a sudden too much for him to handle.

“It was.”

“I was an animal.” His gaze was now hot with anger at himself.

I loved it. I love you.

Why couldn’t she make herself say the words? Some of the old Lise lingered and held fast to her fear of giving everything of herself to him. She wrestled with herself, tried to push the confessions out, but they kept sticking in her throat.

“You see?” His hand flared out, expressing the disgust in his voice. “Your silence says it all. I was a savage.”

“I loved it.”

Finally, the first words were forced from her. The next line was at the tip of her tongue, but he stopped her.

“What?” His eyes widened in pure disbelief, his mouth falling open.

“I did.” She touched him again. A soft sweep of her palm across his shoulder and to the center of his chest. “Believe me. The sex had nothing to do with almost losing the baby.”

“You don’t—”

“I talked with the doctor before I left the hospital,” she confessed, her heart heavy and guilty because she hadn’t thought to tell him the news. “He told me it wasn’t the sex we’d had.”

His lips went slack and his expression went dark. “He told you?”