Secret Heirs And A Forever Family

She thought of her father then, lost for a moment in all the tumult, and vowed to call him as soon as she was alone in her room. Luckily she hadn’t made any plans to see him until closer to the operation. He believed she was working and didn’t want her to disrupt her schedule for him.

As much as Rose would have loved to march after Zac right now and tell him she would not be going anywhere with him, she knew she couldn’t. For all the same reasons she’d allowed him to bring her here in the first place. And, she had to concede weakly, the prospect of getting out of Mrs Lyndon-Holt’s orbit was very tempting.

Rose put a protective hand on her small but burgeoning belly and squeezed her eyes shut, assuring herself that she would get through this. She would. These, after all, were the consequences of her actions and she had to bear them. Somehow.

Zac looked at the slim figure silhouetted against the bucolic view. The late-summer Italian sun was glorious, sending out different-hued rays of gold and red as it set to the west. A warm breeze ruffled Rose’s wavy hair slightly, and Zac had to admit grudgingly that this was a magnificent setting for her pale rose-gold beauty.

She was standing at a low stone wall—the perimeter of his Tuscan villa which overlooked miles and miles of rolling hilly green countryside, not far from the city of Siena.

Rose was wearing some of the clothes he’d had sent over to the apartment before they’d left New York. The expensive fabrics suited her. Skinny jeans clung to her slim legs like a second skin. Her feet were encased in flat leather sandals. And then higher…to where her pert derriere and slim back gave no indication that she was pregnant from behind.

Even though he couldn’t see her belly right now, he had been acutely conscious of the small proud swell, revealed when the wind had pressed her loose-fitting sleeveless top to her belly as they’d walked to the plane at a private airfield near JFK airport earlier.

She’d pulled on a cashmere top on the plane, and Zac had never before been so distracted by the way the soft material could mould itself to a woman’s curves. Or how tactile it looked. His fingers had itched and all he’d been able to think about was how hard it had been to stop kissing her the day before.

She’d curled up on the seat opposite him, her luminous green gaze glued out of the window as if she’d never seen the world from above before. Even after the plane had levelled off to cruising altitude.

He’d been irritated enough by her prolonged wide-eyed wonder to ask, ‘Haven’t you been on a plane before?’

She’d looked at him and said, ‘Yes, but I’ve never left the States.’

She’d said it with a hint of defiance and Zac had felt his conscience prick. Then she’d turned away again and resolutely ignored him for the rest of the flight.

Zac knew that part of his irritation was stemming from the fact that he couldn’t seem to get a handle on her. She wasn’t behaving as he might have expected. At all. And that made him deeply suspicious—which was no bad thing in light of her devastatingly effective deception.

He took a breath now and told himself that she couldn’t get up to much right under his nose.

The surroundings soothed him somewhat…reminding him of the big picture and what was important. He’d been so caught up with extricating himself from his family and forging his fortune in the last few years that he hadn’t even contemplated what he wanted for the long term.

Faced with the prospect of a baby, he had to. But it was no bad thing. Because now he knew that this was what he wanted more than anything: for the Valenti name to survive and grow strong again. For it to be recognised as a force.

He might not have chosen Rose O’Malley to be the mother of his child, but the conniving schemer had handed him a golden opportunity and he was not going to let it slip beyond his control now—no matter what secret plan she’d cooked up with his grandmother.

Rose knew Zac was behind her, studying her. She could almost hear his brain whirring. She’d had a blissful few moments to explore on her own. She should have known it wouldn’t be long before he came to check up on his inconvenient guest. All through the flight to Italy she’d been conscious of his eyes tracking her every movement. It was as if he was just waiting for her to do something. What, she wasn’t sure.

The view that rolled out in front of her was so beautiful it almost hurt. Her father had always told her how green Ireland was, but this looked greener than anything she could have imagined. It made her heart hurt, because she knew how badly he wanted to visit his homeland again to spread her mother’s ashes, and if the operation wasn’t successful it might be something she would have to do on her own, some day…

She diverted her mind away from such maudlin thoughts.

Her father was in the clinic. That was all that mattered. That was what was making this worth it.

Zac had described this place as a ‘villa’. To Rose, though, it was more like a medieval castle. A huge sprawling terracotta castle, with terraces and courtyards and beautiful gardens tucked out of sight, bursting with flowers and greenery. There was even a swimming pool in one secluded courtyard, and it had looked deliciously inviting.

Zac came alongside her now and every tiny hair on her body stood up. She was glad of the covering of the soft cashmere pullover and crossed her arms firmly over her chest.

She couldn’t help saying softly, ‘This is beautiful.’

‘Yes, it is.’

Rose looked at him. While she’d been looking around he’d changed out of the suit he’d worn on the plane and into faded denims and a long-sleeved polo top, with the sleeves pushed back to reveal muscular forearms.

Seeing him like this, against this backdrop, was almost too much to take in. She instantly felt crumpled and inelegant, in spite of the new clothes.

Zac was backing away now, saying, ‘Maria has prepared a light supper. We’ll eat on the terrace—this way.’

Rose was so momentarily distracted by his tight behind in the jeans that he was almost gone from sight before she moved.

When she rounded a corner of a small pathway edged with bright flowers, it led straight onto a terrace, where a table had been set out with white linen, a small vase of flowers and candles. A rotund woman with a smiling face caught her arm and led her to the table, babbling in broken English.

Rose had met her earlier. She was the housekeeper, Maria. The woman oozed friendly Italian maternal warmth and Rose had found herself feeling absurdly tearful, reminded of her mother. She’d been shocked to hear Zac conversing with her in what sounded like fluent Italian.

He was sitting at the table now and flicking out a napkin to spread on his lap, reaching for bread and drizzling olive oil on top. He looked remote, and as Rose sat down and helped herself to some bread she said, ‘Don’t feel you have to be polite and share dinner with me. I’d be perfectly happy to eat in the kitchen with Maria.’ Whom she was sure would provide more pleasant company and be infinitely less disturbing to her equilibrium.

Zac sent her a pointed look. ‘Don’t act the martyr. It doesn’t suit you. And I won’t have you putting Maria to work serving dinner in two places just so you’re more comfortable.’

Rose glared at Zac and said testily, ‘That is not fair. Of course I didn’t mean to put her out.’

She clamped her mouth shut, in case she might say something else, and Maria appeared again to put down a platter of antipasto, beaming at Zac like a fond mother.

Zac smiled back at Maria, and seeing his face so transformed knocked the breath from Rose’s chest. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to be under that all too seductive approving regard, and she felt ridiculously emotional for a moment.

But as soon as Maria left the smile faded and Zac busied himself with the food. He glanced at her empty plate. ‘You don’t like antipasto?’

Rose forced herself to take some dried meats and salad, knowing that she couldn’t let Zac ruin her appetite. It wasn’t good for her or the baby. And, once she’d started eating and tasted the delicious food, her appetite thankfully kicked in.

Despite the ever-constant levels of tension, Rose found that she was relaxing as the evening closed in around them, bringing the melodic calls of native birds. The sky looked like velvet strewn with pink ribbons, and the air was warm and fragrant.

It was…idyllic. A million miles from Manhattan and Zac’s supercharged life. Yet, looking at him now, she thought he might have been born to this. He looked like a true Italian, and for the first time Rose found herself wondering about the origin of the break between him and his family.

‘What kind of business are you involved in here in Italy?’

Zac put his coffee cup down. It should have looked ridiculous in his big hands, but of course it didn’t. It only reminded Rose of what those hands had felt like on her body. She flushed.

Sounding distinctly reluctant, he said after a few seconds, ‘It’s a mine nearby. It was defunct, but we did some exploration and discovered a new seam of iron.’

Rose frowned. ‘I didn’t know you were involved with the industry—I thought you dealt only in finance and the hotel and nightclub business.’

He raised a brow. ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Rose.’

She might have asked more about the business if she’d felt she could. But Zac was right—what on earth did she really know about him? It scared her to think how easily she’d trusted herself to him in the beginning. And he’d only had to kiss her yesterday before she’d started cleaving to him again like some kind of starved groupie.

Zac stood abruptly from the table, putting down his napkin, clearly done with their tense dinner. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make. You should get an early night—you look tired.’

If Rose had felt at a low ebb earlier next to Zac’s rude vitality, now she felt even more lacklustre. She didn’t doubt that not many women had the nerve to appear in Zac’s company looking anything less than stunning.

He was about to walk away when she called after him lightly, ‘I presume I’m to be seen and not heard for the next ten days?’

Zac turned back, the lines of his body suddenly tense. ‘Don’t worry, Rose, I won’t forget you’re here.’

He disappeared into the sprawling villa and Rose deflated like a balloon, all the tension leaving her body. She hated it that she was in such a constant state of awareness around him when he barely tolerated her.

Something dangerous tugged on her emotions now that she was mercifully unobserved. If only those two first times she’d met him hadn’t been so magical…if only she hadn’t been tempted to take what he was offering and convince herself that it would be okay…

Rose shook her head at herself. She had to stop thinking like that.

She had no regrets…

She put a hand over her small belly and took a deep breath, trying not to let a feeling of being all alone steal over her. She refused to give in to that vulnerability. She’d gotten herself into this situation—her and this baby—and it was up to her to make the best of it.

CHAPTER SEVEN

FOR THREE DAYS Rose had an almost pleasant time. A wave of exhaustion had seemed to hit her after that first night, and she’d spent most of her time sleeping, taking long siestas during the hottest part of the day. Then Maria had taken her into the local village when she’d gone shopping the previous day, and Rose had loved looking around the market and the small artisan shops.

Zac had come and gone from the villa, sometimes using a helicopter, and hadn’t offered to share a meal with Rose again. She’d gotten used to eating alone on the terrace and told herself she didn’t mind. How could she mind? She was in one of the world’s most amazing locations and she was being waited on hand and foot, like a princess.

She’d braved the pool earlier, and lay beside it now after a long, leisurely swim. She was trying to engage with a book she’d taken from one of the bookshelves in the comfortable den.

That was the other thing about this house…it didn’t resemble the ascetic decoration of Zac’s apartment in New York. This was more like a home. Rose could imagine a family here…children chasing each other through the pathways and gardens…

She put down the book and closed her eyes, losing herself for a moment in the daydream, an unconscious smile making her mouth curl up…

Zac stood at a standstill in the shadows of a tree near the pool. Rose was reclining on a sun lounger in a bikini. As a connoisseur of women’s clothing, Zac knew this bikini was perfectly respectable—demure, even—but his eyes devoured her slim limbs and high breasts as if he’d never seen a semi-naked woman before.

His body got hard in an instant, and he scowled at his reaction. She wasn’t even trying to be sexy. She had a hand spread across her burgeoning belly and Zac felt the most compelling impulse to go over and place his hand there too, feel it for himself. Would it be firm? Could she feel the baby kicking yet?

In an effort to try and break out of his stasis he dragged his gaze up to her face and saw her smile. He had been feeling a measure of guilt for having left her to her own devices for the last three days. Ridiculous guilt. It wasn’t as if she was his lover and he was here to entertain her. She was here merely because he wanted her where he could keep an eye on her. And she was in the lap of luxury.

Maria, who was clearly a fan of Rose, seemed to think it was her duty to give him a blow-by-blow account of all her movements. So he knew she’d been sleeping a lot. And that she’d gone to the market and had enjoyed it, by all accounts.

And now here she was, with an enigmatic secret smile on her mouth.

Zac battled with the darkness lodging inside him as the insidious suspicion struck him that he was jealous of that smile, of whatever was causing it.

Frantically, he denied it to himself. Why wouldn’t she be smiling? he rationalised. She’d hit the jackpot, exactly as that headline had said. She had his baby in her belly and she would want for nothing ever again.

A surge of protectiveness rose up inside him for the child as he thought of Rose scheming with his grandmother. All of which renewed Zac’s intentions to make sure his child remained in his custody, kept well out of his grandmother’s reach and protected from whatever future machinations Rose had planned.

Except right now she looked less like a devious manipulator and more like that fey creature Zac had likened her to when he’d first seen her. Damn her.

As if hearing his thoughts, Rose turned her head and opened her eyes, that green gaze landing directly on him. The smile immediately slipped from her face and she sat up, cheeks colouring. ‘I didn’t hear you.’

Zac felt like a peeping Tom. He stepped out from the shadows and saw Rose reach for a short robe, which she quickly pulled around herself. It made him say provocatively, ‘It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.’

He saw her cheeks redden in earnest now. How was it that she could still project such innocence when the evidence of her treachery was there as plain as day, expanding her waistline? Which should not be turning him on—dammit. He put a screeching halt on his wandering thoughts.

Something about that sphinx-like smile she’d had on her face just now made him want to test her. He said, ‘I’m going out to the mine to check on progress. You could come if you like?’

He regretted the impulse as soon as he’d spoken out loud. It was no place for a woman—much less a pregnant woman. But she was looking at him now with wide eyes, and something in those green depths stopped him from taking the invitation back.

‘Really?’

This was the last response Zac had expected. Most women he knew would run a mile from anything that sounded remotely boring or work-related, but she actually looked excited. His conscience pricked again for leaving her alone.

Far too belatedly he tried to change her mind. ‘It’s really not that exciting. It’s grimy and dusty…’

‘I don’t mind…but I don’t want to be in your way.’

Feeling bemused now, but also wanting to see how far she would go before bailing, Zac said, ‘You won’t be.’

She stood up and said quickly, ‘I’ll just go and change.’

He called after her as she hurried off. ‘Put on something practical—like jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.’

It was only when she’d left and Zac was waiting for her that he realised there was a little hum of something that felt suspiciously like excitement in his blood. He tried to suppress it, telling himself it wasn’t because she was coming with him. He was just testing her. That was all. And he was intrigued to see how long she would keep the interested act up. No doubt she was just seizing an opportunity to court his favour.

But then she emerged minutes later, in soft faded jeans, sneakers and a light long-sleeved shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and an anxious look on her face, asking, ‘Is this okay?’ And suddenly Zac wasn’t sure of anything at all. Except for the surge of heat in his body.

Gruffly he said, ‘It’s fine, we’ll go in the Jeep.’

Rose strapped herself into the passenger seat, feeling ridiculously buoyed up that Zac had asked her to come with him. Well, had grudgingly offered to take her. She hoped, as they drove out of the estate, that she hadn’t appeared like an eager puppy, starved of affection.

Zac drove the Jeep with the same insouciant confidence that pervaded everything he did. Fast, but not too fast. Smooth. The countryside rolled out around them, stunning.

Rose said, ‘I can’t believe there are mines here. It seems such a shame to churn up this scenery.’

Zac’s mouth tipped up slightly at one corner. ‘I think the local population figure some desecration of the scenery is worth the benefits of having a local industry.’

Never had Rose felt more aware of her education going only as far as graduating from high school. She flushed with embarrassment. ‘Well, of course. I didn’t mean—’

‘I know what you meant,’ Zac surprised her by saying. ‘I agree—it does seem slightly sacrilegious to mess with this view. This is one of the few mines that is still functioning—most of the seams have been depleted by now. It’s rare to find an untapped source of raw minerals.’

He glanced at her then, but Rose kept looking straight ahead, aware of the fact that there seemed to be a very delicate cessation in hostilities. She didn’t want to say anything to provoke his sharp tongue again.

Then he surprised her by asking, ‘How are you feeling…you know, with the pregnancy? We haven’t really spoken about that. Do you have morning sickness?’

Rose looked at him, and then quickly schooled her features in case he was offended by her obvious surprise at his question.

She put a hand to her belly. ‘I’ve been okay, actually. Luckily. I only experienced morning sickness in the first eight weeks, and then it seemed to pass. Every now and then if a strong smell hits me I might get nauseous…but nothing untoward. At my last doctor’s visit she said everything looked okay. But I should have a scan at around twenty weeks.’

Zac surprised her by saying, ‘I have a local gynaecologist on standby in case you need anything. And the hospital in Siena is only a short helicopter ride away.’

She was strangely touched to hear that he’d organised this. Until she realised that of course his concern was for his potential future heir, which seemed to matter to him as much as it did to his mother.

She still didn’t know what had caused the rift between them, and wondered if she ever would. Something she’d noticed in the small local village the previous day came back to her, but while Zac was being civil enough right now, she didn’t want to push it by asking him anything personal.

‘Well, thank you—that’s reassuring… But I’m sure I won’t need to use their facilities.’

The rest of the journey passed in surprisingly easy silence, and then Rose could see that the hills around them were gradually losing their greenery and becoming more stripped back. A huge stone entrance was looming, and Zac drove in through a gate, waving at the security guard who tipped his hat at him.

The quarry was grey, the earth hacked and cut into all around them. They drove down a precipitously winding path to a deep ravine, where openings into tunnels were visible. Rose shuddered lightly at the thought of going down a dark shaft deep into the earth.

Above ground it looked stark and desolate, but Rose was fascinated to think of the riches that were obviously mined from the earth. She followed Zac out of the Jeep and he led her over to a large Portakabin office, where he handed her a high-visibility sleeveless jacket and a hard hat, and then a mask to put over her mouth.

She looked at him, and he said, ‘It’s probably not really necessary, but I’m not taking any risks.’

Of course. The baby.

Rose dutifully put on the mask and followed him back out. He was talking to a foreman and looking out over the whole quarry, which looked like a riverbed run dry when it had really been gouged out of the earth by men and machines.

Zac introduced her to the man and she pulled down her mask momentarily to greet him—only for Zac to scowl and pull it back up. She glared at him, but was more unsettled by the brush of his fingers against her mouth. He seemed to be transfixed too, for a moment, before breaking their staring contest and leading her away from the office.

Her mouth tingled where he’d touched it and she cursed her reaction. What if he did actually kiss her again? That thought made her stumble on the path down into the quarry, but strong arms wrapped around her so fast she couldn’t breathe. She was pulled back into Zac’s body and the imprint of his lean muscles was like a brand, mocking her for her flight of fancy, because he wouldn’t touch her like that again.

She scrambled free, saying breathily, ‘I’m fine.’

She was glad of the mask now, feeling her face burn. Thankfully he let her go, and Rose watched where she put her feet from then on.

She did her best to ignore her reaction as they continued their tour of the quarry. Rose was inordinately touched when his foreman spoke in English, obviously so she could understand what he was saying. And everyone they saw greeted Zac with a deference more suited to a visiting dignitary.

When she lagged behind at one point, looking down one of the cavernous shafts with a kind of dread fascination, another man in a suit stopped to wait for her. He asked her some polite questions and then confided with obvious awe, ‘This region was dying a slow death until Signor Valenti came back and invested in the mine. We all knew there was a possibility of more seams, but he was the only one who cared enough to invest. It was a huge gamble, but it’s paid off and we have him to thank for it.’

The man was called away by someone before he could continue, and now Rose was more intrigued than ever. What on earth would have induced Zac to take a gamble on investing in a mine in deepest Tuscany when the industry had all but died out?

He was striding back towards her now, and Rose’s heart swooped. Even against this barren backdrop, with a hard hat on his head, he looked vital and disgustingly handsome.

‘I’m done here. We can go now.’

Rose looked at her watch and was surprised to see that a couple of hours had passed. She’d been more engrossed than she’d thought she might be; it was such an alien but interesting place.