Page 82 of Savage Proposal

Her warm honey eyes slipped closed, and I brushed my hand down the spiderwebbing of scars that I’d come to find sobeautiful. “I didn’t think about what it would actually feel like,” she said finally, voice no louder than a whisper.

The baby. “You’re happy?” Isabella nodded, but her expression was one of anguish. “Tell me the truth,dolcezza.”

She looked miserable for a moment, and then: “I told you before that I gave up on being a mother, right?”

I nodded.

“I figured that no one would want me enough to make that particular dream a reality, so I focused on other parts of my life. I had a job, and I was going to school, and that was enough. I didn’twantto be a mother anymore.”

My mouth was going dry. “And now you feel differently?”

She let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Pregnancy is a pretty awful experience, you know? I’m nauseated most of the time, and I’ve thrown up more in the last few months than I have in my entire life. I figured that the whole thing would be more of the same, and I’d just chalk it up to something not to be repeated.” Her hand pressed against her belly again. “But that feeling?” Another laugh, this one was warm again. “It made it all worth it.”

What she was saying all sounded positive, but she still looked like all of the air had deflated in her lungs. It struck me that she looked like a woman in love who was about to lose everything. That primal force that had manifested before was back, but this time it was angry: the idea of her walking away after the baby was born was suddenly inconceivable.

“Isabella.”

Her faraway gaze snapped to me, and her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just being hormonal, I guess.” She started to pull out of my arms. “We should go shower.”

I nearly yanked her back into my arms; I wasn’t ready to let her go, and I didn’t like the idea of her running from me either. But instead, I followed her to the shower and let her turn the handles up way too high.

While we took turns beneath the spray, I watched her out of the corner of my eye. A few times, she stopped to take a deep, steadying breath, like she was trying to force a thought away that she didn’t particularly want to have.

“You said you didn’t want a baby,” she said finally. I could barely hear her over the rush of water.

“I did say that.” Though I wasn’t entirely sure how accurate that statement was.

“You never explained yourself.”

I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. The thought was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back. “Having an heir is a necessity in my position,” I said while massaging conditioner into my scalp. “The minor families have been pushing me to take another wife for that reason, and at the time, I never thought that Iwouldtake another wife. Having a surrogate made sense to me. Having a genetic heir to me would keep the minor families off my back.”

Isabella had been nodding along, but she stopped, mouth agape. “‘At the time?’” she asked.

I chuckled. Of course, my cleverdolcezzawould catch that. I stepped beneath the showerhead and worked the conditionerout of my hair. I could feel her eyes on me the entire time. “I was going to send the baby to New Jersey,” I told her. “I have several aunts there who would love nothing more than to have a hand in raising my child. And, when the child was old enough, they’d be sent to the same boarding school that I went to.”

Her nose wrinkled at that. “How old were you?”

“Eight,” I said. “I came home every other weekend and for the holidays.” It was clear that she didn’t like what I was saying, but she was biting her tongue about it.We can come back to that. “When I came home, my father doted on me. He made sure that I knew that he was proud of my achievements, and he always made time for me.”

“Every child deserves that,” she said, although neither she nor I brought up that my father and I bonded over my training to take his place, and that he’d put me in dangerous situations from the moment I was old enough to understand that my father did more than run a casino.

“You’re right,” I told her. “So, why don’t you stay?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Stay?”

I took hold of her and gently drew her toward me. “Our baby deserves at least one good parent. They deserve to be doted on, and I know that you would do exactly that.”

Isabella blinked several times, as if she was having a hard time processing. “What are you saying, Lorenzo?”

“Marry me,dolcezza.”

CHAPTER 51

Isabella

Ihad never been so…gobsmacked in all of my life. The idea of staying and raising our baby made my chest throb, but could I really do that? “You want me to marry you?” I asked. “Really?”Why? What about Sienna? What about never getting married again?

Lorenzo nodded, and I felt his lips on my forehead. “And I get what I want, don’t I,dolcezza?”

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