Reunited by a Baby Secret

She dropped her knife and fork back to her plate, the morsel untouched. Her heart pounded. ‘And what if you have no say in that?’ He’d said he didn’t want a baby. Ever. She wasn’t letting a man like that anywhere near her child.

He turned grey. ‘Please don’t prevent me from being a part of my child’s life. I know I behaved badly yesterday and I know I’m not what you thought I was, but then you’re not what I thought you were either.’

That arrow found its mark.

He leaned towards her, his eyes ablaze. ‘I know what it’s like to feel unwanted by one’s parents.’

Something inside her stilled, and then started to ache at the pain he tried to mask in the depths of his eyes.

‘I have no intention of letting a child of mine feel rejected like that.’

Yesterday, before their unfortunate meeting, she’d expected him to be a part of their child’s life...regardless of anything else that might or might not happen between them. She passed a hand across her eyes and tried to still the sudden pounding of her heart. ‘How do you think this can work?’

He captured her hand and forced her to look at him. The sincerity in his face caught at her. ‘Marianna, I will do anything you ask of me. Anything except...’ He swallowed.

‘Except?’

‘Walk away from our child. Or...’

‘Or?’

‘Marry you.’

She reclaimed her hand and glared. ‘Who mentioned anything about marriage?’

‘I didn’t say I thought that’s what you wanted. I—’

‘Good! Because I don’t! We don’t even know each other!’ A fact that was becoming increasingly clear. ‘What kind of antiquated notions do you think I harbour?’

‘Don’t fly off the handle.’ He glared right back at her. ‘I thought it wise to make myself and my intentions clear. Your brothers seem very traditional and—’

‘They’re protective, not stupid! They wouldn’t want me marrying some man just because I’m pregnant. For heaven’s sake, women get pregnant all the time—single women. No one expects them to get married any more. No one thinks it’s shameful or a scandal.’

He leaned towards her, his eyes intent. ‘So your brothers haven’t been pressuring you about the baby?’

‘What are you talking about?’

He eyed her warily. ‘Don’t fly off the handle again.’

Her hands clenched. ‘Do not tell me what to do.’

His eyes narrowed, turning cold and hard, and Marianna had to suppress a shiver, but she held her ground. He folded his arms and eased back. ‘I was concerned your brothers might’ve been pressuring you to keep the baby when you didn’t want to. Or, alternatively, pressuring you to give it away when you wanted to keep it.’

‘They’ve been nothing but supportive.’ She’d screwed up, again, but she had their support. They might think her a total write-off, but she would always have their support.

But if they were pressuring her, had Ryan meant to intervene on her behalf? The idea intrigued her.

She moistened her lips. ‘What do you mean to pressure me to do?’

‘It seems to me I have very little say in the matter.’ He picked up his fork again, put it down. ‘It’s your body and your life that will be most immediately impacted. I’ll support you in whatever decisions you make. If there’s anything practical I can do, I hope you’ll let me know.’

He made her feel like a spoilt child.

‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but yesterday I was under the impression that you meant to keep the baby.’ He frowned, looking not altogether pleased. ‘Have you changed your mind?’

She shook her head. An unplanned pregnancy hadn’t been part of her life plan, but... She’d always intended to become a mother one day. She’d just thought she’d be married to the man of her dreams first. Still, the moment the pregnancy test had confirmed that she was, indeed, pregnant, she’d been gripped by such a fierce sense of protectiveness for the new life growing inside her that, while she’d considered all of the options available to her, the only one that had made any sense to her emotionally was to keep her baby. To love it. To give it a wonderful life. ‘I’m going to have this baby and I’m going to raise it and love it.’

He nodded. ‘I know I’ve made it clear that I’m a lone wolf—I never intend to marry—but I do mean to be a father to this child.’

She rubbed her temples, unable to look at him. She finally picked up her cutlery and ate a bite of food.

He honed in on her unease immediately. ‘What’s wrong with that? Why do you have a problem with that?’

‘Lone wolves don’t hang around to help raise the young, Ryan. They hotfoot it to pastures greener.’ Nothing he said made sense. ‘If you intend to never marry, that’s your business. But I don’t see how you can be both a lone wolf and any kind of decent father.’

She raised her hands, complete with cutlery, heavenwards. ‘To be a good father you need to be connected to your child, involved with it. When it needs you to, you have to drop everything at a moment’s notice. You have to...’ She met his gaze across the table. ‘You have to put its needs above your own...even when you’re craving solitude and no strings.’

He swallowed.

‘A baby is just about the biggest strings that you can ever have.’ She leaned towards him. ‘Ryan, you will be bound to this child for life. Are you prepared for that?’

He’d gone pale. He stared back at her with eyes the colour of a stormy sea.

‘For a start, how do you mean to make it work? How...?’ She rubbed a hand across her brow. ‘I can tell you how I mean to make it work. I mean to stay here in Monte Calanetti where I have a good job, a family I love and a network of friends. My entire network of support is here. What do you mean to do—drop in for a few days here and there every few months when you’re between assignments?’

‘I...’

She massaged her temples. ‘I don’t know what your definition of a good father might be, but that’s not mine.’

‘Mine neither.’ Hooded eyes surveyed her. ‘You have to realise I’ve only had a day so far to try and think things through.’

He wanted her to cut him some slack, but...this was her child’s life they were talking about.

‘I did have a thought during the drive up here,’ he said. The slight hesitancy in his voice coupled with the deep, whisky tones made the flutters start up in her stomach.

She swallowed. ‘Okay, run it by me, then.’

‘What if I buy a house for you and the baby, and whenever I can get back here I can stay and spend time with our child? I do mean to get back here as often as I can.’

He wanted what? She seized her fork and shoved lukewarm arancini into her mouth to stop from yelling at him. Yelling wouldn’t be mature or adult. It wouldn’t help their child. Her grip on her cutlery tightened. Oh, but it would be entirely understandable! Any innocent bystander would surely agree?

‘You don’t like the idea?’

She shook her head and chewed doggedly.

‘But the house would be yours and—’

He broke off when she pushed a whole half of an arancini ball into her mouth.

He rubbed a hand across his jaw. ‘Okay, what’s wrong with that plan?’

It took her a moment of chewing and swallowing and sipping of water before she could trust herself to answer with any equanimity. ‘You don’t ever mean to marry, no?’

His frown deepened. ‘Right.’

‘But it doesn’t necessarily follow that I won’t.’

He gazed at her blankly.

‘The mother, her baby, her ex-lover and her husband,’ she quipped. ‘All under one roof? How cosy. Not!’ She stabbed her fork at him. ‘Not going to happen.’

He dragged a hand down his face, before glancing back at her with eyes that throbbed.

‘Ryan, I will organise my own life—my own house and furniture, not to mention my work. If you want contact with the baby, then that’s fine. I have no intention of stopping you—but nor do I have any intention of being your glorified housekeeper while you do it. Buy a house in Monte Calanetti by all means. Feel free to hire a housekeeper and a nanny to help you with housework and the baby, but don’t think you’re going to cramp my life like that.’

‘You mean to marry one day?’

Of all the things she’d just said, that was what he wanted to focus on? ‘Of course I do.’ And while they were on the topic... ‘I mean to have more babies too.’

He paled. ‘And do you think this future husband of yours will love our child?’

What kind of question was that? How on earth could he think it possible for her to fall in love with someone who wouldn’t love her child too?

He sat back, his spine ramrod-rigid. ‘My offer of a house wasn’t meant to curtail your freedom. I can see now it was ill considered. You’re right—it would never work. I’m sorry.’

Did he really want what was best for their baby? She recalled the way his eyes had flashed when he’d said he wouldn’t let his child feel unloved or rejected. They were on the same side, but it didn’t feel that way.

He pressed his lips together. ‘We’re going to have to learn to work together on this.’

‘Yes.’ At least they agreed about that.

He thrust a finger at her. ‘And I can tell you now that I won’t be foisting my child off onto some nanny.’

That scored him a few brownie points, but... ‘What do you know about caring for a baby? Have you ever fed one and then burped it? Have you ever changed a diaper?’

He glanced away.

Marianna choked. ‘Please tell me you’ve at least held one.’

He didn’t answer, but his expression told its own story. Why on earth was he here? If he avoided children with the same ferocity he did marriage, why hadn’t he run for the hills?

I know what it’s like to feel unwanted.

Her heart suddenly burned for the small boy that was still buried deep in the man opposite her. He’d been hurt badly by his childhood, that much was evident, and he wanted to do better by his child. She couldn’t help but applaud that.

‘Hell, Marianna!’ He swung back. ‘I know nothing about babies or children. They’re a complete mystery to me. But I can learn and I will love our child.’

For their baby’s sake, she hoped he was right.

He’d gone so pale it frightened her. ‘Can you teach me what I need to know?’

‘Me?’ The word squeaked out of her.

‘There isn’t anyone else I can ask.’

The implication of his lone-wolf ways hit her then and she gulped. It occurred to her that he might need this baby more than he realised. She gripped her hands together in her lap. Admittedly, she and he did have to learn to work together—that’d be in the best interests of their child. And seeing the two of them working things out together in a rational, adult way would put both Angelo’s and Nico’s minds at rest.

If Ryan really was willing to make an effort then...then their baby deserved to know him, to have him in its life. Her baby deserved to be loved by as many people as possible. And... She swallowed. And if Ryan did suddenly decide that he couldn’t handle fatherhood, it’d be better to discover that now, before the baby was born.

You mean to test him to see if he’s worthy?

Was that what she was doing?

Who’s going to test you?

She closed her eyes.

‘Is everything okay with your meals?’

Marianna’s eyes sprang open to find Daniella frowning at their barely touched plates. ‘The food is divine,’ Marianna assured her.

The maître d’ planted her hands on her hips. ‘Would you like me to get Raffaele to prepare something else for you?’

‘No, no, Daniella. Honestly, the food is wonderful. It’s just...’ Marianna pulled in a deep breath. ‘Well, the fact of the matter is I’m pregnant, and food at the moment—any food—is a bit...iffy.’

Daniella stared, and then an enormous smile spread across her face. ‘Marianna! What exciting news! Congratulations!’

She bent and hugged her and Marianna’s throat thickened. ‘I...thank you.’

The maître d’ tapped a finger against her lips and then suddenly winked and wheeled away. Her smile speared straight into Marianna’s heart. She swallowed and blinked hard. She stared down into her lap and fiddled with her napkin.

Ryan ducked his head and tried to catch her eye. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded.

He brought a fist up to his mouth. ‘Are you crying?’

Marianna lifted her napkin and buried her face in it for a moment, before drawing back and dabbing at her eyes.

Ryan stared at her as if he didn’t have a clue what to do. He shuffled on his seat, but he didn’t run. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. It’s just... Daniella is the first person who’s actually congratulated me and...and it was nice. The news of a baby should be celebrated.’

Ryan’s face darkened. ‘I thought you said your brothers had been supportive.’

‘They have been, but...well, the pregnancy was obviously unplanned and...’ They hadn’t meant to make her feel as if she’d messed up. ‘They’ve been worried about me.’

On the table, his hand clenched. ‘And I acted like a damn jerk.’

She blew out a breath. She hadn’t really given him much of a chance to act any other way.

Daniella returned with an enormous slice of chocolate cherry cake—Marianna’s favourite. ‘Compliments of the chef,’ she said, setting it down with a flourish.

Darn it! Her throat went all thick again. Her emotions were see-sawing so much at the moment they were making her dizzy. ‘Thank him for me,’ she managed.

She promptly curved her spoon through it and brought it to her mouth, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the taste hit her. She opened them again to find Ryan staring at her as if mesmerised. A strange electricity started to hum through her blood.

They both glanced away at the same time.

Her heart pounded. Okay. In her mind she drew the word out. She and Ryan might be virtual strangers—in their real world incarnations—but they still generated heat. A lot of heat. She ate more cake. Ryan set to work on his fettuccine. They studiously avoided meeting each other’s eyes.

If they were going to successfully co-parent, they were going to have to ignore that heat.

What a pity.

She choked when the unbidden voice sounded in her head. She was shameless!

‘Everything okay?’

She pulled in a breath. ‘If we want this to work, Ryan—’

‘I for one really want it to.’

His vehemence made her feel less alone. She couldn’t afford to trust it too deeply, to enjoy it too much, but...it was still kind of nice. ‘Then we need to be really, really honest with each other, yes?’

He set his knife and fork down. ‘Yes. Even when it proves difficult.’

‘Probably especially when it proves difficult.’ She pursed her lips. ‘So, by definition, some of our conversations and discussions are going to be...difficult.’

The colour in his eyes deepened to a green that reminded her of a lagoon in Thailand where they’d spent a lazy afternoon. She swallowed and tried not to linger on what had happened after that swim when Ryan had taken her back to his beach hut.

‘You want to hit me with whatever’s on your mind?’

She dragged herself back.

The colour in his eyes intensified. ‘I swear to you, Marianna, that I mean to do right by our baby. And by you too. I want to make things as easy for you as I can. I don’t want you thinking you’re in this alone.’

It was a nice sentiment but... She motioned to his plate. ‘You can keep eating while I talk.’

The faintest of smiles touched his lips. ‘If we’re going to have one of those difficult conversations it might be better if I don’t. I wouldn’t want to choke, now, would I?’

Her lips kicked up into a smile before she managed to pull herself back into line. ‘I think there’s an enormous difference between being a good father and being a man who holds the title of father.’

‘I agree.’

‘To be good at anything means working hard at it, don’t you think?’

Again, he nodded. ‘I’m not afraid of hard work, I promise you.’ He met her gaze, his face pale but his eyes steady. ‘What I’m afraid of is failure.’

His admission had her breaking out in gooseflesh as her own fears crowded about her. She chafed her arms. ‘That’s something I can definitely relate to.’

He shook his head. ‘You’re going to be a brilliant mother. You shouldn’t doubt that for a moment. Already you’re fighting for your baby’s happiness—protecting it.’

But did it need protecting from Ryan?

‘You will be a wonderful mother,’ he repeated.

Her stomach screwed up tight. She hoped so.

His eyes suddenly narrowed. ‘Are you afraid you won’t be?’

‘No,’ she lied. ‘Of course not.’ She’d be just fine. She would! Besides, one of them feeling wobbly on the parent front was more than enough, thank you very much.

Ryan folded his arms. ‘It hasn’t been a terribly difficult discussion so far.’

Ah. Well. She could fix that. She pushed her cake to one side and pressed her hands together. ‘Ryan, in Thailand I...’ She faltered for a moment before finding her footing again. ‘I was coming home to Italy after a year spent travelling and working through Australia. Thailand was my...last hurrah, so to speak. That holiday was about having no responsibilities, being young and free, and living in the moment before settling back into my real life.’

A furrow appeared on his brow. ‘I understand that.’

‘You are an incredibly attractive man.’

He blinked.

‘But what we had in Thailand—all of that glorious sex...’ He grinned as if in remembrance and it made her pulse skitter. ‘It...it just doesn’t belong here in my real world.’

He sobered as he caught her drift.

‘If we’re to successfully co-parent, then sex has no place in that. Friendship would be great if we can manage it. Sex would wreck that.’

‘Too complicated,’ he agreed.

She shook her head. ‘It’s actually incredibly simple. You never want to marry while I’d love to find the man of my dreams and settle down with him. If we make love here—in my real world—I would be in grave danger of falling in love with you.’

He shot back in his seat, his eyes filling with horror. The pulse in his throat pounded. ‘I...’ He gulped. ‘That would be seriously unwise.’

She snorted. ‘It’d be a disaster.’ And if they were being honest... ‘I doubt I’d make a particularly gracious jilted lover.’

He raised both hands. ‘Point taken. We keep our hands to ourselves, keep things strictly platonic and...friendship.’ He nodded vigorously. ‘We focus on friendship.’

* * *

Ryan stared at Marianna, his heart doing its best to pound a way out of his chest. There couldn’t be any sex between them. Ever again. She’d just presented him with his nightmare scenario and... Just, no. It would wreck everything.

He swallowed and tried to slow his pulse. If only he could forget the satin slide of her skin or the dancing delight of her fingertips as they travelled across his naked flesh, not to mention the sweet warm scent of her and the way he’d relished burying his face in her hair and breathing her in.

He stamped a lid on those memories and shoved them into a vault in his mind marked: Never to be opened.

Marianna lifted another spoonful of cake to her lips. He glanced at his fettuccine, but pushed the plate away, his stomach now too acid. Marianna had told him the food here was superb, world class, but it could’ve been sawdust for all he knew.

He glanced across the table and his gaze snagged hers. ‘You really don’t mean to make it difficult for me to see our child?’

Very slowly she shook her head. ‘Not if you want to be involved.’

He wanted to be involved all right. He just didn’t know what involved actually entailed. ‘So...where do we go from here?’

She halted with a spoon of cake only centimetres from her mouth.

He tried not to focus on her mouth. ‘I mean, what do we do next?’

She lowered her spoon. ‘I don’t really know. I...’ She frowned and he went on immediate alert. It had to be better for her health and the baby’s if she smiled rather than frowned.

Also, it had to be seriously bad for her health—her blood pressure—to go about hurling vases at people. He made a mental note to try and defuse all such high emotion in the future.

Her spoon clattered back to her plate and she gestured heavenwards with a dramatic flourish. ‘It feels as if there must be a million things to do before the baby arrives!’

Were there? Asking what they were would only reveal the extent of his ignorance. He hadn’t been able to shake off her horrified expression when she’d realised he’d never so much as held a baby. So, he didn’t ask what needed doing. Instead he asked, ‘What can I do?’

She folded her arms and surveyed him. She might only be a petite five feet two inches, but it took all of his strength to not fidget under that gaze.

‘You really want to help?’

‘Yes.’ That was unequivocal. He needed to help.

‘I plan to move out of the family home and into a cottage on the estate.’

He wondered if her brothers knew about this yet.

‘It’s solid and hardy, but I’d like to spruce up the inside with a new coat of paint and make everything lovely and fresh for the baby.’

It took a moment before he realised what she was asking of him. His heart started to thud. She’d told him that if he was serious about becoming a good father, his time would no longer be his own. His mouth dried. Could he do this?

He had to do this!

He reviewed his upcoming work schedule. He set his shoulders and rested both arms on the table. ‘How would it be if I spent the next month—’ four whole weeks! ‘—in Monte Calanetti? I can work remotely with maybe just the odd day trip back to Rome, and in my spare time I can help you get established in your cottage, help you set up a nursery...and in return you can tell me what you see as the duties and responsibilities of a good father?’

Her eyes widened, and he was suddenly fiercely glad he’d made the offer. ‘You’d stay for a whole month?’

It wouldn’t interfere with the Conti contract, and he didn’t kid himself—he’d only have one chance to prove himself to the mother of his yet-to-be-born child, and he wasn’t going to waste it. ‘Consider it done,’ he said.

CHAPTER FOUR

MARIANNA STARED AT him and Ryan found himself holding his breath, waiting for her answer...her verdict.

She folded her arms. ‘That would help me out a lot.’

‘And me,’ he added, wanting her to remember that she’d just promised to tutor him in the arts of fatherhood.

She stared down at her cake and bit her lip. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a riot of dark waves, and it suddenly struck him how young she looked. He pushed his plate further away and glanced at her again. ‘How old are you, Marianna?’

‘Twenty-four.’

She was so young!

‘And you?’

‘Twenty-nine.’ It was one of the many pieces of information they hadn’t exchanged during their week in Thailand.

‘If you researched me on the Internet, then you know what I do for a living.’ As a specialist freelance consultant brought in, usually at the last moment, to turn the fortunes of ailing companies around, he enjoyed the adrenaline surge, the high-stakes pressure, and the tight deadlines. He shifted on his seat. ‘What about you? What’s your role at the vineyard? Are you a winemaker?’

She shook her head and those glorious curls performed a gentle dance around her face and shoulders. ‘Nico is the vintner. I’m a viticulturist. I grow the grapes, look after the health of the vines.’ She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘The art of grape growing is a science.’

He knew she had a brain. It shouldn’t surprise him that she used it. ‘Sounds...technical.’

‘I grew up on the vineyard. It’s in my blood.’