The Italian's Pregnancy Proposal

MAGGIE COX loved to write almost as soon as she learned to read. Her favorite occupation was daydreaming and making up stories in her head, and this particular pastime has stayed with her through all the years of growing up, starting work, marrying and raising a family. No matter what was going on in her life, whether joy, happiness, struggle or disappointment, she’d go to bed each night and lose herself in her imagination. Through all the years of her secretarial career she kept on filling exercise books and her word processor with her writing, never showing anyone what she wrote and basically keeping her stories for her own enjoyment. It wasn’t until she met her second husband, the love of her life, that she was persuaded to start sharing those stories with a publisher. Maggie settled on Harlequin as she had loved romance novels since she was a teenager and read at least one or two paperbacks a week. After several rejections, the letters that were sent back from the publisher started to become more and more positive and encouraging, and in July 2002 she sold her first book, A Passionate Protector, to Harlequin.

The fact that she is being published is truly a dream come true; however, each book she writes is still a journey in courage and hope and a quest to learn and grow and be the best writer she can. Her advice to aspiring authors is “Don’t give up at the first hurdle, or even the second, third or fourth, but keep on keeping on until your dream is realized because if you are truly passionate about writing and learning the craft, as Paulo Coelho states in his book The Alchemist, ‘the Universe will conspire to help you’ make it a reality.”

The Italian’s Pregnancy Proposal

~BOUGHT FOR HER BABY~

Maggie Cox

MILLS & BOON

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THE ITALIAN’S PREGNANCY PROPOSAL

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

BLISS knew she really ought to resist, but she couldn’t help stealing another surreptitious glance at her watch to check on the time when her dragon of a supervisor’s back was momentarily turned. The store was hot and crowded and the overpowering scent of perfume from the counters arranged around hers was making her feel as though she’d wandered into an opium den. Besides that, her eyes itched from the shadow she was forced to wear to promote the make-up, and she longed to be able to scrub it off along with the foundation cream, blusher and lipstick that transformed her into someone she almost didn’t recognise. It was too bad she’d have to endure another two hours of this torture before she could give in to such a rebellious desire.

What on earth she’d been thinking of when she’d decided to work in the plush department store that catered mainly to fashion-conscious women with more money than sense, she didn’t know. Well, yes, she did know. She’d been between jobs yet again and as inspiration about what she really wanted to do had been in appallingly scant supply, she’d let her best friend Trudy persuade her to apply for a post in the same store that she worked in. For Trudy, who loved all things retail, it was heaven. To Bliss, it was increasingly turning out to be just the opposite.

‘Excuse me…I would like to purchase a lipstick.’

‘Certainly, madam. Do you have any particular shade in mind? I can show you the—Oh, Lord!’

Bliss watched in alarm as the striking brunette in front of the counter slid weakly down to the floor, almost like a slow-motion replay of an actor fainting in a soap opera. Beside her, an apple-cheeked toddler with big brown eyes and curly dark hair ensconced in a pushchair cried out in distress. Her actions automatic and concerned, Bliss flew round the counter to crouch beside the woman who had passed out, at the same time taking a brief moment to stroke the baby-soft cheek of the toddler and murmur something soothing. A small crowd quickly gathered and Bliss took immediate charge, urging them to stand back while she loosened the collar of the woman’s silk shirt beneath her expensive suede coat, then gently smoothed back the wavy dark hair from her olive-skinned forehead.

‘I don’t…I don’t feel well.’ Momentarily the woman’s surprisingly blue eyes fluttered open and her lush mouth trembled slightly as she stared dazedly up at Bliss. ‘Look after my baby,’ she said beseechingly in her accented voice before she fainted dead away again.

‘Don’t worry. I will.’ Her teeth clamping down worriedly on her soft lower lip, Bliss glanced across at the now-quietened toddler, who stared back at her with wide-eyed interest, as if wondering what might be going to happen next.

‘Now, what’s happened? Do you know this woman?’ Her supervisor pushed her way through the small knot of curious bystanders and knelt down beside Bliss in anxious distaste—as if she really didn’t need or want this untidy disruption to her working day. Fighting down the little spurt of annoyance that burst like a bubble inside her chest, Bliss briefly shook her head.

‘She’s a customer and she’s just passed out. We’re going to need an ambulance; can you organise it? Oh, and can somebody please get this little girl a drink? She looks hot. Hardly surprising when there’s enough heat in this place to compete with the inside of a volcano!’

After that, things happened fairly quickly. It seemed a mere matter of moments before the familiar sound of an ambulance siren wailed in the distance, then came to an abrupt halt outside the store’s entrance. Having checked the woman had no foreign objects in her mouth, was still breathing normally and was as comfortable as she could make her, Bliss was relieved to have the two highly competent ambulance men take over. Remembering her promise to the child’s mother, Bliss took charge of the toddler in the pushchair, fed her a drink in a plastic lipped cup, then, when she began to whimper at the surrounding mayhem, lifted her out of the pushchair and safely into her arms for a cuddle. One of the ambulance men glanced over his shoulder at her as he and his colleague lifted the unconscious woman onto a stretcher.

‘That her child?’ he asked.

Bliss nodded. ‘I’ve got her bag too.’ She grabbed up the expensive-looking tan leather shoulder bag she’d thrown onto the empty pushchair for safekeeping before someone either squashed it underfoot or, more worryingly, absconded with it. ‘It might have some ID inside it.’

‘You’d better bring it along with the child. You can ride in the ambulance with the mother. What’s your name, love?’

‘Bliss Maguire.’

‘So you’re Irish like meself?’

‘Half,’ Bliss muttered, thinking it was bizarre to be having such a conversation about roots under the circumstances. ‘On my father’s side.’

‘Ah, well, we’ll get along just grand, then, you and I.’ With a teasing grin, the man turned his concentration firmly back to the woman on the stretcher.

It soon became apparent that the child needed to eat. After informing the nurse behind the hospital desk that she was going to the canteen if anyone should come looking for her, Bliss followed the arrows to the dining area. Glad that she’d had the foresight to bring her purse with her before getting into the ambulance, she purchased a sandwich and a cup of tea, then sat at a corner table with her charge on her lap, feeding her small bites of bread, cheese and cucumber. By the obvious eagerness with which she ate, it was clear the little girl was ravenously hungry.

‘Probably all the excitement,’ she said out loud, ‘poor lamb.’ Her heart turned over in sympathy for both the child and her mother. Being separated from each other in such an unexpected and frightening way must be torment. She could only pray that the woman would make a speedy recovery. She also hoped that her next of kin would arrive soon to look after this beautiful child and give her the opportunity of seeing a familiar face. Momentarily Bliss rested her chin on the silky dark head, laughing when the little girl handed her a piece of soggy sandwich, the child watching entranced as Bliss began to chew with exaggerated emphasis to amuse her.

‘Miss Maguire?’

She glanced up at the accented enunciation of her name into the glittering green-eyed gaze of the most stunning-looking male she’d ever seen outside the pages of a high-fashion glossy magazine. She’d once glimpsed a well-known Hollywood movie star shopping with his entourage in the store, but even he—noted heartthrob that he was—couldn’t hold a candle to this particular male specimen. As her gaze skimmed over his gleaming, slightly longish black hair, then helplessly detoured to take in a tall, well-muscled frame dressed in the kind of clothes that gave off an aura of comfortable wealth beyond what most people could possibly dream of, her heart felt in danger of going into arrest, so violently did it jolt.

‘Who wants to know?’

Unconsciously protective of the beautiful child in her arms, she tightened her hand round the tiny waist in her pretty velvet dress. Silently she vowed that she would not be handing her over to anyone without the right credentials as verified by the proper authorities…no matter how well dressed or impossibly handsome he was.

‘My name is Dante di Andrea. I am the brother of the woman you accompanied in the ambulance to the hospital. The child you are holding is Renata Ward—my niece.’

The child gazed blankly up at the man, with no discernible sign of recognition. Bliss felt something in the pit of her stomach tighten warily.

‘Really?’

The handsome brow crinkled with annoyance. ‘You do not believe me?’ He looked as if the mere idea of anyone disbelieving anything he said was tantamount to gross bad manners or derangement on their part. How dare you question my authority? his emerald eyes silently blazed.

‘Why would I lie about it? Come, Renny. I will look after you now.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t just hand the child over to you just like that.’ Affecting her best ‘head girl’ voice, Bliss ignored the outstretched arms of the dark-haired pin-up in front of her and dared to meet his disbelieving glare with a decidedly cool and firm one of her own. ‘We’ll go back to Casualty Reception and I’ll ask them to verify that you are who you say you are.’

‘Your diligence is commendable, Miss Maguire, but how do you think I came to find you if my credentials have not already been verified by the proper authorities? Did you speak to my sister before she passed out? If you did, you must know from her accent that she is Italian, like me. My name and cell phone number were in her purse; that is how I come to be here now.’

All that might be so, Bliss thought defiantly. But she still wasn’t taking any chances. She was more unwilling than she could have believed to release the little girl into anyone’s arms but her mother’s. She’d never forgive herself if anything untoward happened while this precious child was in her care.

‘I did speak to the lady before she fainted, and it’s because of that that I am going to double-check you are who you say you are.’

‘What did my sister say to you?’ Clearly struggling with his temper, Dante di Andrea narrowed his sizzling verdant gaze on Bliss like a sniper about to take a pot shot at a target he detested, and scowled.

‘She told me to take care of her baby and that’s exactly what I’m doing.’ Rising to her feet with ‘Renny’ now snuggled up tiredly against her chest, Bliss tried not to be intimidated by the fact that the man hovering over the pair of them like some royal bodyguard was at least a good six inches taller than she was. In fact he made her average height seem positively short.

‘So…we will return to Reception and we will speak to someone in authority who will assure you that I am Dante di Andrea, the brother of Tatiana Ward, and then you will hand over my niece to my care. Sì?’

Feeling her face flame red as his furious glance swept almost dismissively across her features, Bliss bit back an equally provoked retort and decided to say nothing. The last thing anyone needed was a row under the circumstances. All she wanted to do was make sure that Renata would be released into safe hands. Holding the child tight, she strode into the long corridor outside the canteen ahead of him, secretly wishing that the man had not been quite so speedy in his arrival at the hospital as he had. Renata smelt so sweet, was so snuggly, warm and delicious in her arms, that all Bliss’s usually determinedly buried maternal instincts were given full and free rein to an almost alarming degree.

‘I can definitely assure you, Miss Maguire, that Mr di Andrea is indeed the brother of Mrs Ward who is at present undergoing observation by the head doctor on duty. The little girl is his niece, Renata Ward.’ The very efficient-looking middle-aged receptionist with her steel-framed spectacles and ash-blond hair smiled patiently at Bliss as though she were addressing a confused child.

‘Oh.’ Bliss’s violet eyes blinked twice in succession, as though she’d just been rudely woken from a peaceful slumber. She heard the harshly relieved breath that Dante di Andrea released beside her before holding out his arms once again for the little girl. The provocatively sensual scent of sandalwood floated up to her nostrils as he did so and something in her deepest feminine core reacted as violently as though he’d kissed her. ‘Your uncle will take you now, sweetie. Be a good girl, won’t you? You’ll see Mummy soon.’

It was the oddest thing, but Bliss suddenly felt as if she might burst into tears. What stopped her was the fact that Renata had started to cling to her in alarm when Dante had reached out, making little sounds of protest against Bliss’s white silk shirt that tore at her heart as powerfully as any heartbreak could.

‘All right, honey…all right. There’s nothing to be frightened of, I promise.’ Except that when Bliss’s accusing stare met Dante’s across the little girl’s dark head, the sheer frustration and rage in his eyes made her doubt that promise greatly. Something told her in that short, unsettling exchange that this was a man unused to being defied in any way, and so far Bliss had not capitulated to his authority one iota. Her wild imagination suggested he looked about ready to tear her limb from limb.

‘Give me my niece, Miss Maguire. I thank you for taking care of her in her mother’s time of need, but now I want to go and see my sister and I would like to take her daughter with me.’

‘She’s acting like she doesn’t know you.’ It was hard to believe the strength with which Renata was holding onto Bliss’s shirt, her little chubby fists clinging on as though her life depended on it. Did her uncle have to look quite so fierce? That scowl would put the fear of God into a wild cougar! Maybe his anxiety for his sister was putting him under a strain, but he could soften a little for the child’s sake, couldn’t he? ‘How am I supposed to hand her over to you when she clearly doesn’t want to go?’

He cursed beneath his breath in a barrage of fluent Italian. Even the outwardly unruffled receptionist looked alarmed. But Bliss was adamant that, however effusively Dante di Andrea gave way to temper, all it would achieve would be to make her more determined not to hand Renata over until he had calmed down.

‘The baby is very shy and not used to me.’ Shaking his head, he seemed to suddenly struggle with finding the right words, as if he wasn’t used to having to explain or justify his emotions. Against her will, Bliss couldn’t deny the spurt of sympathy that bloomed inside her. ‘She has recently lost her father. That is why Tatiana—her mother—is ill.’

Bliss went very still. Sensing the change in her posture, Renata glanced up into her eyes, her bottom lip quivering. ‘I’m very sorry to hear that. Look, Mr di Andrea, I’m not trying to make things difficult for you. I just want to make sure that the little girl is all right…for my own satisfaction, you understand?’

For a very surreal moment, Dante was so drawn by those ravishing violet eyes with their curling sable lashes that he forgot he usually concurred with his father’s view that the English were a cold race. The warmth and concern that this unknown Englishwoman was expressing for a total stranger’s child took him aback and made him reassess his former prejudice in a way that was definitely unsettling.

‘Perhaps we should sit down for a moment, sì?’

They moved to a long bench seat a little way off. When Dante sat down beside her, Bliss couldn’t help feeling slightly overshadowed by his awesome male beauty and she withdrew her gaze to the child because focusing on that remarkably handsome visage was making it almost impossible to concentrate.

She’d heard it said that an Italian man’s face told the story of his life. If that was so, Dante di Andrea had a lifetime of experience and confidence and knowing written across his. Along with his smooth bronzed skin and piercing green eyes, he had an allure that could captivate a woman in an instant, and no doubt an inbuilt arrogance that he took as his God-given right. Yes, Bliss had already seen ample signs of that arrogance. She sighed.

Renata was asleep. When Bliss experienced the full weight of that little warm body sagging against her, she capitulated to an instinctive urge to smooth those whisper-soft curls away from her velvet forehead, then planted a tiny kiss on the child’s dampened cheek. If she didn’t hand her back to her intoxicating uncle very soon, Bliss would be in danger of being charged with kidnapping. Why did her maternal instincts have to kick in now with a child who was completely unrelated to her? Why couldn’t they have waited until she was in love and expecting a child of her own? Feeling an almost overwhelming upsurge of emotion inside her, she swallowed to ease the sudden painful cramping in her throat. Where is your head, Bliss Maguire? You know that will never happen!

‘What happened to your sister’s husband…if you don’t mind me asking?’

Dante didn’t want to talk about that now. The pain of Tatiana’s loss was so great that it had affected every one of them like the aftermath of an earthquake. Dante, his brother Stefano, and their parents, Antonio and Isabella—they were all disorientated, like shocked survivors dazedly picking over the remnants of what used to be their homes. One minute Matt Ward had been celebrating a considerable promotion at work, and the next he had been ploughed down by a drunken driver while on his way home to Tatiana and his baby. II mio Dio! His baby sister had been so happy and in love.

Dante had been envious of the joy she had found with the young Englishman, and considered it highly unlikely that he would ever find the same joy with a woman. Not when his considerable fortune and dedication to his work threw up obstacles that seemed insurmountable. Dante wasn’t interested in women who were attracted by his wealth and position as head of the family business. But it seemed gold-diggers were the only type of women who came into his sphere. It had made him wish sometimes that he could have been as carefree as Tatiana, allowed to come to the UK to study and live an ordinary life that didn’t require great responsibility and the level of commitment that Dante had had to contend with. But now he had no cause for envy, only pain and regret that the great happiness Tatiana had enjoyed had been cruelly snatched away and this lovely child would never know her father.

As he momentarily dug his fingers into his brow to try and stifle his distress Dante was startled to feel the consoling press of the Englishwoman’s hand through his suit sleeve. Along with the scent of vanilla and honey, her touch sent ripples of seductive sensations along his already highly sensitised nerve endings.

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ she said softly. ‘You must be anxious to see your sister. Here, take the baby. She’s asleep now.’

Wordlessly Dante took the child, tucking her in close to his broad chest in his exquisitely designed jacket and shirt, feeling his heart swell at the soft, warm body and dreading the anxiety on his sister’s face when he appeared at her bedside. Tatiana had always been so open and so trusting. Now her joy in life was gone. Dante longed for a way to bring it back.

Suddenly distracted by a pair of shimmering eyes the astonishing colour and vivid hue of violets, he willingly focused all his attention on the beautiful girl seated beside him. Her white silk blouse was damp and crumpled at the front where Renata had lain her head against her chest and her rich black hair was slipping strand by silky strand loose from her ponytail. The hotly sensuous charge that surged through his body like a streak of sultry summer lightning as a result of his intense examination was too disturbing for words.

‘Grazie. I was told that you work in the store and that you travelled in the ambulance with my sister. You must allow me to pay for a taxi so you can return.’

‘I can get myself a taxi, but I really don’t want you to pay.’ Bliss got to her feet and, disturbingly, Dante did likewise. As he towered over her once again she couldn’t help feeling consumed by his presence. The man was so attractive and so impossible to be ambivalent towards that it wasn’t funny. To counteract the effect, she deliberately focused all her attention on the sleeping child in his arms, secretly thinking that they made a touching tableau—the handsome, indomitable uncle and his beautiful baby niece. It cut her to the quick to realise she would probably not set eyes on either of them ever again.

‘At least leave me your address, Miss Maguire. My sister will no doubt want to get in touch with you to thank you for all your help.’

Bliss shrugged to hide her sudden awkwardness. ‘She doesn’t have to thank me. It was my pleasure to be able to help. If I want to ring and find out how she’s doing, it’s Mrs Ward, isn’t it?’

‘Tatiana.’

‘What a lovely name.’

‘And Bliss? Where did that come from?’ Raising one dark eyebrow with an almost roguish air, Dante smiled. A wave of heat sailed through Bliss’s body and back again.

‘Maybe it’s what my parents were looking for at the time.’ Her deadpan humour clearly didn’t amuse him. His raised eyebrow was replaced by a distinct frown.

’Felicità.’

‘Pardon?’

‘That is “Bliss” in my language. Felicità. But I think I prefer it in English.’

Oh, my Lord! Do you have to smile at me like that? Bliss felt as if she’d been locked in a pitch-black room only to be let out blinking into the blinding gaze of the sun. What on earth was God thinking of when he made a man as devastatingly irresistible as Dante di Andrea? What he’d said was perfectly innocent, but in that sexy Italian intonation it had sounded to Bliss as if he were making love to her with words. Crossing her arms in front of her shirt, she anxiously strove to conceal the fact that her nipples had shockingly peaked to shameful steel buds inside her bra and the sharp tingling sensation that ensued in them was almost bordering on pain. ‘Well. I wish both you and your sister and little Renny all the best. I’ll be going now.’