Page 12 of The Housekeeper's One-Night Baby
He placed his hands flat on the wooden table and, annoyingly, Lizzie found her attention drawn to his long fingers, remembering how they’d whispered over her trembling thighs, before bringing her to that noisy orgasm in the broom cupboard. Her cheeks flushed, first with embarrassment and then with self-directed fury. Why was she thinking about thatnow, when she had successfully erased all such erotic memories for weeks?
‘Why not?’ he repeated thoughtfully. ‘Well, I’m no expert, but you aren’t exactly glowing, as pregnant woman are supposed to.’
‘Oh, dear. I’m so sorry to have fallen short of your exacting standards. If you’d given me a bit more notice, I might have had time to apply some blusher!’
‘I have also discovered a couple of things about your employer,’ he continued, ‘who doesn’t have a fantastic reputation when it comes to keeping staff. Now, I’m no lawyer but I do employ a lot of people and I know it’s against the law to ask a woman to work during her maternity leave.’
‘But she’s giving me a room and board!’
‘So what happens if she kicks you out because she doesn’t like the sound of a crying baby? And within a few months, the baby will be crawling. How will you do your job then?’
‘Then I’d have to look for another job. Obviously.’
‘What? Going from door to door with a squalling infant in your arms?’
‘I hate to disillusion you, Niccolò, but most people go through employment agencies these days.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid this is all very unsatisfactory.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘And I cannot allow it to happen.’
‘Excuse me?’ she squeaked. Lizzie tried to sound outraged but that masterful note in his voice was unexpectedly comforting, and although some previously unknown aspect of her character was making her want to bask beneath all the implied power which backed up his statement, she forced herself to see sense. ‘I don’t know which century you imagine we’re living in, Niccolò, but you can’t just come barging into my life, demanding your rights!’
‘But you aren’t going to deny that I dohaverights, as the father?’
This really wasn’t what she had expected. She wanted to be fair and she wanted to be logical, but now she felt confused. ‘Are you sure you want to claim them?’ She stared at him frustratedly. ‘Aren’t I just a woman you had some regrettable sex with? A one-night stand which has resulted in consequences neither of us could have foreseen? I would have thought you’d be happy about me giving you a let-out clause.’
Niccolò flexed and unflexed his fingers but it made no difference to the tension which was tightening his body. He couldn’t deny that her words were accurate. He had come here today, not because he’dwantedto, but because he’d been driven by a sense of duty he couldn’t ignore. He had imagined she would fall in a grateful heap at his feet. That she would be charmed and relieved at his offer to take her out to lunch and would have sat there, waiting eagerly to see what he had to offer.
But she had done none of these things and her attitude had taken him by surprise. She’d made it clear that she considered their relationship to be firmly in the past, and was prepared to bring up their baby without his assistance. Her fierce independence should have allowed him to walk away, his guilt assuaged by giving her a generous settlement which would keep her and the baby comfortable for the rest of their lives. But guilt was hardwired into his nature. And it seemed that it had not been assuaged at all. Why else would he feel such a strong sense of concern for her welfare, and a reluctance to let her go it alone?
‘You look tired and overworked, and I cannot allow that to continue.’
‘So what are you going to do? Wave a magic wand?’
He studied her for a moment in silence.
‘You’re going to have to come to New York.’
She frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘That’s where I’m based.’
‘Right.’ Calmly, she took a sip of water. ‘But I’m still not with you.’
‘You must come and live with me.’
Now he had a reaction. She sat up straight, her soft lips falling open.
‘Livewith you?’
He wondered why he had put it so baldly—without nuance—knowing the tendency of women to read too much into a few simple words. ‘Notwithme,’ he clarified abruptly. ‘I’m offering you temporary shelter, that’s all. A holiday, if you like. I will provide warmth, food and a generous expense account—as well as the finest medical care in the country—while you decide what you want to do.’
‘No expense spared for the baby, you mean?’ she questioned quietly.
‘Why not?’ he drawled, on familiar territory now, as the conversation shifted into financial negotiation. ‘I’m a wealthy man, with no dependants. Until now. I have more than enough for my charities to benefit from my fortune, so why would I leave out my own flesh and blood?’ He leaned forward across the table, his voice low. ‘Don’t you realise I’m in a position to offer this child the best of everything?’
Except love, thought Lizzie desperately. All the money in the world couldn’t buy that. She looked into his face, but as her gaze rested on the sculpted slash of his features, she could see nothing but coldness and calculation in his eyes. Every instinct she possessed was urging her to reject his proposal. Quickly she corrected herself. No. This definitely wasn’t aproposal. This was an expedient offer from a powerful man whose motives were unclear.
Unlike hers.
