Page 43 of The Tycoon's Shock Heir

He stared at the word, at the letters and the shape they made. Even writing it made him feel that he’d aged ten years. It was a word of maturity, selflessness. It was weighted with responsibility and expectations. Those letters were both a mirror and a map—forcing him to see what a lightweight he’d been these past years. The playboy, playing fast and loose, the toast of all his friends because he would not let any woman tell him how to run his life.

Sophie’s face flashed through his mind. The horror in her eyes through the steam of the shower. Those wounds had scarred him deeply, but it was time to acknowledge them and move on.

Sophie was ten years ago. Ruby was now.

And even though he didn’t want marriage, could he bear his child to be brought up hundreds of miles away? By another man. Because if he didn’t marry Ruby, someone else would.

Beautiful Ruby.

He checked his watch. She’d been asleep six hours. She was bound to wake up soon.

He wrote down Home. The answer to that word was going to depend a lot on the answer to the one above it. He’d ask her to marry him, she’d say yes, and they’d live in—London? Was that the best place to bring up the bambino? If he didn’t ask her to marry him, could they live together? Where would that be? Would that work out better?

If they didn’t live together the baby would be brought up in two homes. He’d need to stay more in London, or she’d need to come to Rome. He’d buy her a house, or move her into one of his. And what about her career? Didn’t ballet mean touring and travelling? What then?

His own parents had led largely separate lives, he realised. But whatever his father’s demons had been they’d stayed together, married, all those years. For the sake of him? The bank? His mother had loved his father—he knew that much. She’d fought for him. But at the end of the day Claudio had won. Whatever way you looked at it, marriage was a fake but probably necessary institution.

He put his head in his hands, ran his palm over his brow, felt the steady motion of the boat and the lure of sleep. The lure of sleeping beside Ruby. The thought of having her in his bed again—he’d tried hard to put it out of his mind, but who was he kidding? He hardened in response.

God, his mind was rammed with this and he hadn’t even started to put the Arturo merger into the mix.

‘What time is it?’

He looked up. She was propped up on her elbows, hair flopping all over her face, her cheeks pink and plump with rest and her eyes blinking awake in the soft light of morning. She looked sweet and vulnerable and his heart swelled.

He looked away. ‘About six. Here,’ he said, ignoring the pain as he stretched his cramped legs. ‘I got you some tea and toast.’

She looked at him, then at the tray that had been sitting beside her for the past ten minutes.

‘OK...thanks.’

‘It’s to prevent your morning sickness. I’ve been reading up about it. Have something bland first thing and it settles your stomach. So they say.’

‘You’ve been reading up about morning sickness?’

‘And other things.’

‘Is that right? Anything else you found out?’

She sat up properly now, and as she moved the sheet dropped down, revealing her nakedness.

‘Your breasts. They’ll be tender. And getting bigger.’

She glared at him. ‘That’s none of your business,’ she said, but she didn’t rush to cover herself and he didn’t rush to shift his gaze.

‘I’m just stating a fact,’ he said, taking in her softness, shaded in the morning light, as his voice deepened to a growl even to his own ears. ‘And they’re really pretty.’

Nothing moved but the steady rock of the boat and the solid beat of his heart in his chest. But all around his body his senses sparked to life. The air became hot as desire bloomed between them. Her chest heaved and she looked utterly undone already, with messy tendrils of hair hanging loose above the rosy pink tips of her nipples which, before his very eyes, were tightening into hard little nubs.

He hesitated. All he wanted was to grab her into his arms and fasten his mouth on hers. He wanted to mould her curves in his hands and tug them both into another sexual adventure. She was all he’d been dreaming about for weeks and she was right here, as ripe and ready for him as he was for her.

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