Kitabı oku: «Reunited With Her Italian Billionaire»

CHAPTER ONE

SHE SHOULD HAVE known he would come.

The dark, commanding man at her back door was the last person Brianna wanted to see. Though she should have guessed. Marco Dirici had a knack for showing up in her life unbidden and unwelcome.

Brianna peeked through the side window again. She knew it was him. The voice had confirmed it. Still, she couldn’t help but wish that maybe if she looked again it would be someone else standing there.

No such luck. It was definitely Marco, in the flesh. Not that she was surprised. He wasn’t the kind of man to stay away.

Brianna looked down at the worn gray T-shirt she was wearing and swiped at the dark smudges under her eyes. Great. Six long months since she’d last seen him and he had to catch her on a morning when she looked her absolute worst.

But what did it matter anyhow? She no longer cared what she looked like in front of Marco. Except that he was immaculate as usual. The leather jacket he wore brought out the black of his eyes. His dark hair fell over his forehead the way she remembered. It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d taken great pleasure in gently stroking that wayward lock off his face, only to have it fall forward again.

“Brianna, open the door. I know you’re in there.” His voice sounded from the other side of the door, dripping with that sexy Italian accent that haunted her dreams.

“Cara, open the door,” Marco repeated. “I don’t want to have to ring the bell. Little Enzo is probably still sleeping.”

At the mention of her son, Brianna forgot all about her appearance and her apprehension. Two-year-old Lorenzo was the reason Marco was here.

Slowly, she unlatched the lock and stepped aside to let her husband in.

Marco brushed past her without so much as a glance.

“What took you so long? I had to go around the back when you didn’t answer the front door.”

She’d been in a deep sleep. Enzo had kept her up half the night refusing to go into his crib.

He gave her a stern look when she didn’t answer. “I thought the little old lady across the street was going to come at me with a broom. I’m positive she thinks I’m here to commit some kind of crime.”

Are you?

Brianna shoved the door closed and turned to face him. “What in the world are you doing here?”

“What do you think? I spoke to Nonna.”

Of course. She should have never made that phone call to Marco’s grandmother. But Brianna had been truly desperate for some advice from someone else who loved and cared about Enzo.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she answered.

“I grew tired of waiting for you to come to your senses,” he said. “And I missed my son. What did you expect me to do?”

A small part of her wanted to hear that he’d missed her as well. But that was such a silly thought. He wanted nothing to do with her. He never really had. As she stood aching inside at seeing him again.

If it was possible, he was even more handsome than she remembered. Those dark eyes she’d lost herself in so many times in the past were as deep as always. She couldn’t lose herself again. Not to this man. Not ever. She had given him too much of herself already.

“I didn’t expect you to do anything.” She walked over to the baby monitor on the counter and turned it up, just to give herself something to do. “Only to respect my wishes and give Enzo and me the time we need.”

“You’ve been gone for six months.”

“Nothing has changed, Marco. You’ve wasted a trip across the world for no reason.”

“You want a divorce, cara. I am not divorcing my child.”

Brianna stiffened. “That’s not fair. You know that’s the last thing I want.”

He let out a laugh which sounded far from amused. “Is that what you call hauling him thousands of miles away?”

She took a deep breath. “Look, when I left I promised you we’d come to a fair agreement about visitation. Until we do that, you can’t just show up here unannounced. You can see him at designated times or not at all.”

He was in front of her in an instant, hardly an inch of space separating them. “I don’t think so. You throw me crumbs and then have the nerve to threaten those measly bits. That I cannot allow you to do.”

Brianna’s heart pounded. She had to stand up to him. “Don’t fight me on this, Marco. I need to make a clean break.”

He took her hand in a gentle but firm grip. “I won’t let go of my son, Brianna.”

Any hope she had that Marco might have changed over the past few months evaporated. “And I don’t want that either. I’m sorry you don’t understand.”

He sighed and dropped her hand. “You’re right. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand why your desire to cook for others in New York City overrides your desire to be my wife back in Italy. I certainly don’t understand why you needed to leave.”

He was certainly right about that. He never did understand. “I had no choice.”

“So you seem to believe.”

For the briefest moment, Brianna thought she saw utter weariness in his face. But the look was gone in an instant. Perhaps she had imagined it.

“No, you’re wrong. I couldn’t have been a good mother to Enzo being as unhappy as I was.”

“And this.” He gestured around the small house. “This is what makes you happy?”

Brianna crossed her arms in front of her chest. She didn’t know how to answer that. No, she wasn’t happy. Things hadn’t worked out at all the way they were supposed to since she’d moved back to New York. Mostly, and to her utter horror, her son had so far not adjusted well at all.

But those last months in Italy, things had just been getting colder and colder between them. In fact, they weren’t even pretending to be an actual married couple anymore. Simply two people living under the same roof. That was what happened when one tried to force a family into existence. She should have known better.

Still, she hadn’t expected to miss Marco as much as she did.

He looked at her expectantly. His next words made her wonder if he’d somehow read her mind about missing him. “So tell me what makes you happy, cara.” His dark, smoldering eyes fell to her lips.

He stepped closer. Brianna forced herself to look away. If she wasn’t careful, she could so easily fall into the Marco Dirici trap again. His voice, that look.

“Do you remember being happy at least at first?” he asked.

And what kind of a question was that?

As if she could forget. Her mind automatically recalled the first time he’d kissed her. They’d met only hours before. Yet, she couldn’t resist his charm and sheer magnetism. She hardly recognized herself that night and the following week after meeting him.

A small wailing sound from the monitor jarred her back and she glanced at the wall. “Now see what you’ve done? He’s awake. It’s at least an hour until his usual wake-up time.”

Marco sighed then stepped away from her. Was that a hint of disappointment she detected in his eyes? Probably not.

“I’d like to see my son.”

Brianna took a steadying breath and waited a beat for the pounding in her chest to slow. Then she made her way toward the stairs.

* * *

Marco watched her walk away and cursed himself. After six months without laying eyes on her, the second he’d seen her again he’d felt like a damn hormonal teenager. The same way he had close to three years ago. And just like back then, it had only taken one look at her. Her emerald-green eyes still blazed, just as he remembered. And her lips. Heavens, those lips reminded him of sin. Her nightwear left little to the imagination. But he already knew every inch of her. She was exquisite, she was stunning. And for a while, she had been his.

But never completely.

What was it about this woman that made him lose such control? The last thing he’d had on his mind when he’d walked in here was to travel down memory lane and reminisce about the first time he’d laid eyes on her.

He rubbed his brow. He couldn’t let his attraction to her complicate matters on this trip. The attraction was merely physical. Same as always. He needed more from her than she was willing to give. He’d never begged a woman for anything.

He certainly wasn’t going to start with his soon-to-be ex-wife. And certainly not to delay the inevitable.

He had only two reasons to be here: to tell Brianna she could have the divorce she so wanted and, most importantly, to work out final custody of Enzo. His son was all that mattered now. He’d never really expected Brianna to stay around. Women came and women went. But familia... He would fight to keep his blood.

He looked around the house he knew she rented. The kitchen was tidy, with a small round table in the center. Through an arched doorway he could see a living room with a center sitting area. A bay window overlooked the street. The house was small, modest.

There was nothing overtly wrong with the place, but it certainly didn’t compare to the expansive mansion Brianna had lived in as his wife.

She preferred it here.

Not that he was surprised. His arrival in her life three years ago had served to totally derail it. At that time she had just landed a new job, was working hard to make a name for herself in the New York culinary world. Then he’d come along and disrupted it all. Before they knew it and to their combined utter shock, they found themselves unwed and expecting. He’d asked her to marry him and join him in Italy. For a while it seemed as if the union might work. But it quickly became obvious they were headed down a rocky road.

For one, Brianna had a difficult pregnancy. Passion, the one thing that bound them, had to be put on hold. And the expansion of Dirici Foods had hit snag after snag, taking him away from home consistently.

Still, Marco had hoped she would fall in love with her new home. That she would try to acclimate and settle into the new life she found herself in, regardless of how unexpectedly it had come about. But that had not happened. He never should have expected it. Foolish, really.

Something tightened in his gut. The time had simply come to cut his losses.

He had to finalize things with her in New York quickly, and then he had to get out of her life as best he could.

* * *

The hard children’s book hurtling toward Brianna missed her head by mere inches. She rose from her ducked position as the book bounced against the wall with a thud and landed on the floor.

“Now! Now! Now!”

“Enzo, we don’t throw things at Mama,” Brianna scolded. A teddy bear hit her on the chest.

“Do you want me to start taking your favorite toys out of your crib?”

“Out! Now!”

Brianna picked up the screaming child and held him close, hoping to calm him down. Enzo smelled of baby shampoo and the delicate scent of talc.

Even during moments like this, Brianna couldn’t believe the sheer wave of emotion that holding her child brought forth. She’d never expected to have a child at this stage of her life. But she was grateful beyond words to have him. Especially considering the terrifying touch-and-go moments that plagued her pregnancy. She’d prayed daily that her precious little boy would be born full term and healthy, so thankful finally when he had.

“Keech!” Enzo shouted in her ear.

“We’ll go down to the kitchen in a moment,” Brianna said. “But first I need to tell you something.” She set him down.

Enzo ran toward the stairs, not listening at all. She followed close behind. He hadn’t quite mastered going down the steps yet but that never slowed him down.

“Enzo, wait.”

He was already pulling open the unlocked safety gate at the top of the stairs when Brianna caught up to him.

“Keech! Keech!”

“All right, all right.” Brianna took his hand and slowly, carefully walked him down the stairs. “We’re going down there now. There’s someone here to see you.”

As soon as they reached the first-floor landing, he ran to the kitchen.

“Joos!”

When he spotted Marco, Enzo came to a sudden halt. Brianna noticed the thinly veiled derision in Marco’s expression as he lifted Enzo into his arms.

The baby monitor. Marco had overheard her and Enzo’s little exchange.

“Hi!” Enzo said loudly, grabbing Marco’s collar. “Joos!”

“Hey, little man,” Marco said, rubbing his cheek against Enzo’s. “Did you miss Papa?”

Her chest tightened at the scene and at Marco’s words. She had no reason to feel guilty. She couldn’t have stayed any longer in a marriage that wasn’t working, one that had simply originated out of necessity because of pregnancy. Sure, it had been painful to take Enzo away from Italy and his papa. Not to mention the doting great-grandmother who adored him. But Brianna was slowly becoming a mere shell of herself there. That was no way to raise a child. Especially considering she was doing most of it on her own with Marco gone long hours for days on end.

“He likes to sit by the window and drink it while I get his breakfast ready,” she said, handing Enzo a full sippy cup.

Marco sighed and put his son down. Enzo immediately scuttled to the love seat in front of the bay window.

“Do you suppose he remembers me?” Marco asked.

“I’m sure he does.”

Marco looked skeptical. His eyes bored into hers. “I’m glad one of us is sure.”

The implication was clear. There was no doubt in her mind who Marco would blame if Enzo in fact didn’t remember him.