Page 54 of The Italian's Pregnant Enemy (A Diamond in the Rough)

They got back into the car, and she leaned her head back against the seat. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re not going back to the city.”

“Why did you tell my father we were?” she asked.

“Because he does not need to know that I intend to take you to a luxury bed-and-breakfast where I plan on sealing this arrangement in a very particular way.”

The way that he looked at her. That dark need in his eyes.

It was the first thing that made her feel like she might have some control here. And yet at the same time it made her feel undone.

They wanted each other. At the end of the day, it was her real power, and his.

They could claim all sorts of things. That by her agreeing she was making things easier with her father, that by him giving her the business deal he was improving her situation.

But mostly, she had the feeling they wanted each other. And if she didn’t have him, some other woman might. If he didn’t have her, perhaps other men would have her.

Maybe this was the truth of it. And that was both deeply comforting and confronting all at the same time.

“I am sorry, Lyssia,” he said, softly.

“For what?” she asked.

The only sound was her heart beating and the tires on the road.

“I...feel as if I got more attention in that moment. And I am not... I am not his son.”

He finally saw it. She felt bad, though, because while she’d had her own conflicting feelings about it...she hated everything she knew about Dario’s childhood. She didn’t begrudge him a relationship with her dad.

“I was happy,” she said. “Happy that he’s happy.”

“But he should have been all there for you.”

“He cares for you. It doesn’t have to be a competition.”

“But it has felt like one to you and that matters to me,” he said. “We...you and I, we are a family now. This baby will be ours. There is nothing more important. Know that.”

She held that close and turned it over. This small change in him. This insight. It mattered. But she had to resist the urge to make it more than it was.

They only drove five minutes away from her father’s house, and up to a glorious, rambling manor. “I rented the northern wing for us.”

They walked inside, and she was struck by how quaint it was. How lovely. The walls were hunter green, with brown leather details all about the room. Hunting and fishing memorabilia from a bygone era added a warmth and a sense of another time to the place.

He went up to the polished mahogany desk and the woman behind the desk presented them with physical keys. They were given directions to the far side of the house. Where a library, a sitting room and a large bedroom with an en suite bathroom was theirs.

Two suitcases seemed to be produced from thin air, though she realized they had to come from the car.

“Did you... Take clothes from my house?”

“No,” he said. “I purchased some things for you.”

“Well, that...” She tried to muster up a fence, and instead she was intrigued. What sorts of things did Dario think that she should wear? Lyssia had a very strong sense of style. What did Dario see? That was the question. Of course, that was just a distraction from the actual, prevailing thought pounding through her. She was going to make love with Dario again.

And when he led her through the public area, back to the quarters that they would share. She didn’t wait. Didn’t hesitate. As soon as the door closed behind them, she stretched up on her toes, and she kissed him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DARIOHADKNOWNthat this was self-indulgent. But it was, in many ways, a fool’s decision. But he could not go back. And wouldn’t even if he could. Because the moment that he tasted Lyssia’s mouth again, he wanted nothing else.

It had been torment tonight, standing with her in front of her father and keeping his hands to himself. Playing at being respectable. Not exposing the fact that the reason they were in the situation, the reason that they were getting married was because of the undeniable passion between them. Not feelings.

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