The Italian's Pregnancy Proposal

‘Your address, Miss Maguire. Please?’ He’d juggled the child against his chest and produced a small notepad and pen from his inside jacket pocket. Wordlessly Bliss took it and scribbled down her address and phone number, though it was only after she handed back the notepad that she wondered why she’d capitulated so easily. She’d told him thanks weren’t necessary and she’d meant it. Now she’d gone back on her word and maybe Dante would think that she expected something because of it? She hoped not. She’d hate him to imagine that she’d helped his sister in the hope of some kind of reward.

‘Well…goodbye.’

With an awkward little smile that a shy teenager would surely have despaired of, Bliss allowed herself one final glance at the stunning Italian and the equally beautiful little girl, then turned and walked quickly away towards the double-doored exit.

CHAPTER TWO

ALTHOUGH Bliss was convinced that the repetitive ringing sound that permeated her subconscious was a referee blowing the half-time whistle on a soccer match, it quickly transformed into the more insistent peal of a ringing telephone, and she rubbed at her eyes and dazedly sat up in bed. Reaching for the cordless receiver on the small oak cabinet beside her, she stifled a yawn before uttering a weary ‘yes’ into the mouthpiece.

‘Bliss Maguire?’

All drowsiness was banished in an instant and her violet eyes pinged wide open. If she wasn’t mistaken, that deeply knee-trembling pronunciation of her name belonged to the Italian hunk she’d met yesterday in the hospital. Dante di Andrea. Pushing her fingers shakily through her hair, Bliss concentrated hard on getting her jaw to work in order to reply. ‘This is she.’

‘It is Dante di Andrea speaking…you remember? From yesterday at the hospital?’

Did she remember? She’d replayed their meeting over and over in her head like a videotape stuck on rewind. Especially when she’d rung the hospital only to be told that Tatiana Ward had been discharged to go home and was not being admitted as an in-patient or even transferred to a private hospital.

‘I remember.’ Somehow her voice had acquired a disturbingly husky quality and Bliss coughed a little to clear her throat. ‘Excuse me,’ she quickly apologised. ‘I found out that your sister was sent home. How is she today?’

‘Depressa ed afflitta. I am sorry…depressed and heartsick. I have ordered her to stay in bed for today. She has not been getting a lot of sleep lately under the circumstances. That is why she passed out in the store. Her husband died only six weeks ago and she is finding life very difficult at the moment.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’

‘Can we meet?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Her heart had started to throb alarmingly and Bliss wondered for a moment if her brain were so addled, she’d simply misheard him.

‘I will be blunt with you, Miss Maguire. My sister needs some help. Matt—her husband—had no living parents and until my mother can get here from Italy again, she will be on her own with Renny and myself. I have taken some time off from my business to be with Tatiana, but I am no expert with children and until she fully recovers, she will need some help taking care of my niece.’

Pushing up the defiant shoestring straps on her silky cotton nightie, Bliss took a few moments to absorb what he was saying, surprise and trepidation vying equally for precedence inside her chest. Where was this leading? Was he asking her to come and help take care of Renata? Did he not realise she already had a job? Of course he did! He knew she worked at the store where his sister had fainted, which was how she had come to be at the hospital in the first place.

‘Mr di Andrea, if you are asking what I think you are asking, I’m afraid it’s impossible. Much as I think the little girl is utterly adorable, I have to work for my living. If your sister needed some help in the evening I might be able to—’

‘If you come and stay with Tatiana and Renny for a while until my mother comes from Italy, I will pay you a more than generous fee for your services and the disruption to your schedule. If your place of work will not grant you time off, then I will endeavour to acquire a better position for you somewhere else. I have lots of contacts in the business world, Miss Maguire. It will not be difficult.’

Bliss didn’t doubt that he had contacts, and that he could get her any job he damn well pleased. One brush with Dante di Andrea’s confident, self-assured persona and you knew straight away that he was a man who could move mountains if he had to. But did she really want to give up her job and her livelihood on the word of a man she had only just met, albeit only briefly? If things didn’t work out she could always temp, she supposed. She was used to using temporary work as a fall-back when things didn’t turn out as she’d hoped. If she was honest, retail really wasn’t her thing anyway, and if push came to shove she had just about enough money in the bank to tide her over for a very short while until she found another position. Her palm felt clammy where it clung too tightly to the phone.

‘You said “stay” with your sister. Could I not just come over in the mornings and stay until the evening, and then go home?’

‘Since her father has been gone, Renny wakes in the night sometimes. Tatiana is not in a fit state to see to the child properly on her own. Therefore it would be best if you packed a few things and came to stay indefinitely.’

‘Mr di Andrea…this may sound obvious, but have you thought about approaching a child-care agency for help?’

‘I do not want a stranger taking care of my niece!’ came back the vexed reply.

Puzzled, Bliss frowned. ‘But I’m a stranger. You only met me yesterday, remember?’

‘I could tell from the moment I saw you with her that you are a person my niece feels drawn to. Because you comforted her yesterday, she will remember you.’

‘But she didn’t seem to remember you, if you don’t mind my saying.’

There was a harsh indrawn breath at the other end of the phone. ‘I have not spent a lot of time with Tatiana since she had the child and therefore, yes…I am a virtual stranger to Renny. I have been busy with my business in Italy. Yesterday was the first time we were together since the funeral a month ago. I had to return almost immediately to Milan, along with my parents. My father is not in good health himself and my mother worries about leaving him on his own. None of us like the fact that Tatiana has basically had to cope with this tragedy by herself and I am working on finding a solution to that, believe me. In the meantime, until my mother can arrange acceptable nursing care for my father and travel to England, Renny and Tatiana need all the help I can provide for them.’

‘So you want to know if I will help?’ Shoving off the mulberry-coloured duvet, Bliss restlessly swung her legs off the edge of the bed and pushed her feet into her sheepskin-lined moccasins, still holding firmly onto the phone.

‘Sì. Will you help us, Miss Maguire…Bliss?’

He really didn’t have to ask again because Bliss had already made up her mind to accept the task. And if they made things difficult for her at the store to take the time off, she would see it as a clear sign that she really wasn’t meant to be there in the first place. God only knew what she was meant to be doing and she hoped that one day soon she would get a clue. In the meantime she would look forward to seeing the adorable Renata again. And if her thoughts leaned longingly towards seeing her handsome uncle again as well, then Bliss made no apology for that.

Tatiana Ward lived in a ground-floor apartment in Chelsea Harbour. When Dante had given her the address, Bliss had sucked in her breath and released a long, low whistle. It was a location that had at least a million-pound price tag just to sniff the air in that hallowed place—never mind live there! Thinking of her own one-bed flat in a notoriously run-down area, Bliss was suddenly struck with trepidation at the idea of accepting this unexpected job of nanny to a little girl whose connections were clearly in a different stratosphere from her own humble origins.

Bliss’s parents had never had much money. Her mother had suffered from serious bouts of depression all her life that had impeded her ability to work, and when Bliss was just sixteen her mother’s depression had finally shockingly driven her to take her own life. With her father already drinking his own life away, Bliss had gone out to work at sixteen to help support the two of them, but one day not long after her eighteenth birthday he had packed his bags and gone. He’d left no forwarding address, just a scrappy little note saying he was sorry for not turning out to be the father Bliss deserved and begging her not to try and find him. She’d long ago decided she had to make some sort of shaky settlement with her devastating past, but situations like the one she now found herself in were apt to test that decision to the hilt where her self-confidence was concerned. Her childhood had been an unmitigated disaster and nearly every memory she had of it hurt.

Now standing outside the front entrance to the apartment in Chelsea Harbour, Bliss determinedly reached down inside herself for some fresh courage, flicked an imaginary speck of dust from the sleeve of her short leather jacket, then, without further ado, pressed the button on the intercom.

’Ciao!’

‘Mr di Andrea? It’s Bliss Maguire.’

‘Wait a minute, will you?’

Even though he’d answered the intercom, she was unprepared for the sight of Dante di Andrea with a serious-faced toddler hoisted on his hip, answering the door with what looked like a very strained smile. Noting some kind of cereal congealing on the front of his beautiful white shirt where the lovely Renata had obviously decided to share her breakfast with her uncle, Bliss seriously struggled to prevent the twitching of her lips into becoming a full-blown grin. She was pretty sure Dante would not appreciate it. But even though he was a little less than immaculate this morning, with his arresting green eyes and darkly brooding male beauty, the man could still engender a small riot of appreciation from the opposite sex just by walking down the street.

‘Hello. Clearly a fan of oatmeal, I see. Shall I take her?’ Adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, Bliss reached out for Renata. When the child willingly went into her arms, Dante murmured something in Italian that could have been either surprise or relief or both. ‘Come in, Miss Maguire. You have not arrived a moment too soon.’

The apartment was lovely—flooded with natural light, with maple wood floors and some very tasteful antiques that Bliss knew would have to look out once Renata really started getting into her stride. Leading her to a pair of long low leather couches with a glass coffee-table with wrought-iron legs positioned between them, Dante bade his visitor sit down. ‘I will change my shirt, then I will be back.’ With a wary glance at the little girl who was coiling her chubby fingers into Bliss’s shoulder-length dark hair with obvious fascination, he went out of the door again and left them alone.

Bliss occupied herself with amusing the child while she waited for Dante to return, her heart rate a little calmer now that she didn’t have to contend with glancing into those daunting green eyes. Lifting Renata onto her hip, she strolled across the wide expanse of beautiful maple floor to the window, gazing out at the vista of yachts and cruisers bobbing on the water with a soft sigh of appreciation.

‘What a lovely view you have, Renny. Aren’t you a lucky little girl?’ Then immediately remembering that the child’s father was dead, Bliss silently cursed her own tactlessness. But Renata was smiling up at her with those big innocent brown eyes, totally unaware of any dilemma, her chubby cheeks dimpling adorably as Bliss smiled back at her. Unable to resist, Bliss dropped a small butterfly kiss at the side of her pretty rosebud mouth and sighed.

‘It was good of you to come, but where is your suitcase? I understood from our telephone conversation that you were coming to stay.’

He was sporting another immaculate white shirt with his tailored black trousers, his dark hair glistening with blue-black lights as fiercely as a midnight sky with the light of the moon reflected on it. Looking vaguely perplexed, he focused his gaze with concern on Bliss.

‘I thought I’d bring my things over later. I wanted to come and talk to you first about the…about the arrangements.’ Her voiced trailed off because she was suddenly struck by acute self-consciousness in the intimidating presence of Dante di Andrea. Much more so than she had previously anticipated. She’d dressed in well-worn jeans and a fitted black tee shirt beneath her leather jacket—casual clothes she was comfortable in—only all of a sudden she had doubts about what was expected. Was she too casual? In view of the effortlessly stylish and handsome man in front of her, she couldn’t help but feel decidedly underdressed. Scruffy, even.

Dante was silently casting his eyes over Bliss’s considerable slender curves in her tight jeans and tee shirt, musing that she resembled a young Claudia Cardinale with her wide-spaced brows, beautiful eyes and unknowingly sexy smile. For a moment her beauty distracted him. He wouldn’t be true to his blood if he didn’t notice and appreciate a beautiful woman, but it had been a while since he’d experienced the fierce heat of arousal simply by gazing at one. Sensing the smouldering fire of attraction stirring in his loins as he stared at her, he thought how soft and inviting her rich dark hair looked floating loose against her shoulders and how much he would enjoy the privilege of touching it and letting it slide through his fingers.

‘I didn’t know…wasn’t sure what to wear. I’m probably unrecognisable without all that make-up, aren’t I? It’s unfortunate, but they make you put it on with a trowel if you work on the beauty counter. I can’t wait to take it off most days.’

As Bliss’s almost breathless voice petered out Dante forced himself to concentrate his thoughts more appropriately. He couldn’t afford to start lusting after the woman he had reached out to for help with Renata and her mother, no matter how aroused she made him feel. That would not be appropriate at all under the circumstances. He was a businessman, a hotelier with a respected reputation, and he wanted to show this young Englishwoman that she could trust him when he was around her.

‘You look fine.’ He wanted to tell her that beauty like hers would win her many admirers even without the dubious aid of make-up. In the end he curtailed his natural inclination and decided not to make things more awkward by complimenting her. As a result his tone was perhaps more curt than he meant it to be. ‘I am learning that one cannot be concerned about protecting one’s clothes when there is a little one around. The more casual you are, the better.’

‘You’re right.’ Smiling back at him, Bliss couldn’t deny her relief. She wasn’t exactly looking for his approval of her appearance, but it was nice to know that he didn’t think it might mean her level of commitment was as casual as her clothes. ‘Would you like me to clean her up? Wash Renny’s face and hands for her?’

‘I will show you to a bathroom.’ Dante’s smile was brief and all too quickly gone. Once more Bliss detected strain behind the gesture. It reminded her of the reason she was there. ‘How is your sister today?’

‘She is sleeping right now, because she did not have a good night. She was restless with weeping.’ His bronze skin seemed to turn momentarily pale and Bliss experienced an unexpected tug on her heartstrings. ‘The doctor is coming out to her in a little while to give her a check-up. When you have cleaned up the baby we will talk business, sì?’

Sensing he was much more comfortable with discussing something of a less personal nature than his sister’s well-being, Bliss followed him out into the corridor and into an exquisitely marbled bathroom that looked as if it belonged to some Hollywood movie star instead of a young, recently widowed single mum. Gesturing towards some shelves stacked high with perfectly folded, freshly laundered white towels, Dante lingered in the doorway as Bliss ran hot and cold water into a marble basin with Renata happily chattering baby talk into her ear.

‘Everything you need should be here. If there is something you cannot find, just ask.’

He seemed to hesitate as his glance drank his fill of the charming picture of tender domesticity that she and his niece made together, and Bliss felt her cheeks suddenly burn beneath his unsettling scrutiny. ‘What is it?’ she asked, violet eyes wary.

‘You are so natural with the baby. I am thinking that you perhaps grew up with lots of brothers and sisters, sì?’

‘No.’ Smiling as she dipped a face-cloth into the warm water, then squeezed it out, Bliss sat Renata down on the high chrome stool beside the sink and carefully and lovingly started to clean up the little girl’s breakfast-stained face. ‘Just the opposite, in fact. I’m actually an only child. I’ve just always loved children.’

‘But you are not married?’

‘No.’ Briefly glancing up at the frown currently drawing his dark brows together, Bliss shook her head. ‘And neither do I intend to be. Marriage doesn’t interest me much, Mr di Andrea. As far as I’m concerned all marriage does is engender false hope in a happy outcome that very rarely manifests itself.’

Dante’s frown grew even more pronounced. ‘So you would have children out of wedlock?’

Clearly recognising that he disapproved of such a course of action in a big way, Bliss couldn’t help laughing. ‘That’s probably not on the cards either. I shall just be happy being auntie to my friends’ children.’

He murmured something with feeling, in Italian, and Bliss glanced up at him reprovingly as she finished cleaning Renata’s face. ‘You’ll have to remember that I don’t speak Italian. I wish I did, but I don’t.’

‘Forgive me. I just said that it was a terrible waste that a woman with such natural maternal instincts should look forward to a life without a husband and children of her own.’

‘Well, that’s as may be, but I can assure you that nothing would induce me into marriage.’

‘That is a pity.’ His eyes darkened as Dante reflected that it truly was.

‘You are not married yourself, Mr di Andrea?’

‘Dante.’ Her question was so surprising that for a moment he struggled to marshal his thoughts together on the subject. The fact that his mother had been berating him for his single status for so long now came back to remind him what a disappointment he must be to her on that score. Business-wise he was one of the élite of Italian hoteliers, adding to the family fortune year by year with his natural and almost frightening ability to make money—but personally…? While his younger brother Stefano—his right-hand man in the business—had already fathered three children and had been married for almost eight years now, and Tatiana of course had Renata, Dante was still a confirmed bachelor with not a prospect of a bambino in sight. And nor would there be unless the most exceptional woman came along—one whose first interest wasn’t in how much money he had.

‘No, I am not married. I am—how do you say it?—married to my business.’

‘Oh.’

Just, ‘Oh.’ Not, ‘What do you do?’ or, ‘What business are you in?’ Just, ‘Oh.’ Did he hold such little appeal to this surprising woman that her curiosity wasn’t even provoked the smallest bit about what he did for a living?

Her attention already straying to a still-chattering Renata, Bliss drained the water from the basin, rinsed it out with some cold, then lifted the toddler cheerfully onto her hip again. For some reason that he couldn’t quite explain, Dante’s proud male ego felt ridiculously bruised.

‘All done. We can have that talk now, if you like.’

He nodded gravely. ‘Sì. If you come into the kitchen I will make some coffee for us. You have eaten breakfast, I presume?’

‘I had a cereal bar on the way over here. I never eat much in the morning.’

‘That is not good. Eating should not be such a casual affair.’

‘Of course, you would say that. You’re Italian, aren’t you?’ Her prettily shaped mouth curved into a playful smile as Dante scowled and he experienced the full force of her teasing with a wave of heat that frankly stunned him.

‘By that you are implying what—that we eat too much?’

‘No.’ Reining in another teasing smile, Bliss carefully weighed up her words. ‘I just meant that food is a big part of your culture, isn’t it? Food and family and…’ She was just about to add ‘love’ when she saw the corner of Dante’s too-appealing lips quirk upwards into a lazily amused smile. She was dumbstruck; her gaze was helplessly hypnotised by that sensually stimulating little gesture, so much so that a deliciously affecting shiver shuddered down her spine like little sparkles of coloured light shimmering from a firework.

‘La dolce vita. A love of life, sì?’

The way he said it sounded too sinful for words and Bliss couldn’t help musing that he was the epitome of all the things Italian men were renowned for and more. Sexy, stylish, charming, strong, definitely arrogant and jaw-droppingly beautiful…

‘Yes. That’s it.’ Embarrassed at being caught staring, she slid her violet gaze guiltily away. When Dante smiled at her again as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, Bliss wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

‘Come and have some coffee and some food, then we will talk.’

He turned his back on her and left the bathroom, his tall, broad-shouldered frame moving with a lithe grace that beautifully complemented the undoubted strength in every taut and sinewed muscle that rippled beneath his shirt. Bliss could only trail behind in awe.

’So, we have an agreement? You will go back home and collect your things and stay here with Renata and my sister until my mother arrives from Italy.’

‘As long as your sister is in agreement that I stay in her house and help take care of Renny. If she is, then, yes, I agree to stay.’

Dante sighed as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Glancing towards his little niece, who was playing with some crayons and paper on the floor, his green eyes turned visibly soft. ‘It is bad enough she has lost her father, no? And now her mother cannot take care of her.’

‘But this is only temporary,’ Bliss hastened to assure him. ‘Tatiana will recover soon, I’m sure.’

‘Yes, you’re right.’ If he was honest, Dante was very glad to have Bliss to talk to. There was an air of calmness and maturity about her that was very appealing and right now he needed that. He prided himself on his efficiency and aptitude in almost every other arena of his life except personal relations. There was always a discernible distance between himself and his parents and siblings, no matter how hard he tried to let his guard down. It had been that way since he was small—because his mother Isabella was not his natural mother.

Dante had been the result of an affair his father Antonio had had with an Irish girl whom his father had been forbidden by his own parents to marry. She had died of breast cancer shortly after giving birth to their child. Heartbroken, Antonio had broken all allegiance to his parents after Katherine died and looked after his baby son himself with the aid of his sister-in-law Romana, until he had met and married Isabella Minetti when Dante was six years old. A year later, Stefano had been born, followed only eighteen months after that by Tatiana. Isabella had never treated Dante any differently from his brother and sister, yet Dante had always felt somehow cheated because he wasn’t her natural-born son. Particularly so when his aunt Romana had often reminded him that it was his fault that Antonio and his parents were not speaking any more. She had also reminded him, on an almost daily basis, that he was lucky to be even tolerated in the family because of what had happened, and behind his father’s back had sneered at him, ‘Irish brat.’

If Antonio had guessed what had gone on when he was out at work trying to get his business off the ground, Dante had no doubt his father would have taken him from Romana so fast her head would have spun. But Antonio had never known what his sister-in-law was truly like, because Dante had never told him.