“Right here.”
“I’m not nursing him in front of you.”
“I don’t trust you not to run off.”
“Fine,” she bit out as the baby’s wails increased. “At least turn around.”
“Of course.” He turned toward the wall of windows overlooking the city. The baby’s crying ceased almost immediately, changing to soft, contented murmurs.
Cristiano’s shoulders relaxed, and he realized that he’d been tense, feeling his son’s unhappiness. He felt more sure than ever that his impulsive decision, demanding marriage, was right. It was the only way to ensure the baby’s comfort and security.
His son’s childhood would be completely different from his own. Jack wouldn’t be abandoned by a father who cared only about his business empire, or left to the devices of a mother who cared only about her own selfish needs. He would never worry about getting beaten or having enough to eat. Jack would always have a stable home. And two loving parents.
Cristiano would do whatever it took, make any sacrifice, to make it so. And so would Hallie.
He would leave her no other choice.
Rising from the white chair, still with his back to her, he pulled out his phone, pressed a button and lifted it to his ear.
“Contact Dr. Garcia,” he told his executive assistant, Marcia Lattimer, when she answered. “Tell him I’m bringing a woman and baby in twenty minutes for a checkup and paternity test.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What?” Hallie said in alarm behind him.
“Ask Matthews to pull the limo around,” he continued. He remembered the baby. “On second thought, the SUV. Have the concierge arrange a new baby seat to be sent down. Whatever is required for a three-month-old. I want it installed and ready by the time we’re downstairs.”
“Of course, Mr. Moretti,” Marcia murmured. She was well paid to be on call around the clock. “Anything else?”
“I’ll let you know,” he said, and hung up.
“Paternity test?” Hallie’s voice was low but enraged. “You don’t even believe he’s yours?”
“Can I turn around?”
“Yes.”
He looked at her calmly. He was pleased to see the baby now sleeping contentedly in her arms. “You said he was mine. Then you said he wasn’t.”
She looked furious. “You know!”
“I believe he is mine, but I want proof.”
She tossed her head. “What kind of quack doctor will do a paternity test in the middle of the night? It’s after nine!”
Cristiano was amused that she thought of nine o’clock as the middle of the night. His own nights out often didn’t start until eleven. “Dr. Garcia is my personal physician, one of the best in the city. He also appreciates that I fully fund his medical research.”
She ground her teeth. “Is everyone in this city on your payroll? Do you always get what you want?”
“Yes,” he said simply, to both.
Ten minutes later, they were seated in the back of a huge black SUV with tinted windows and a brand-new baby seat installed between them.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” called Matthews from the driver’s seat. “Cute little guy you’ve got there.” He looked at Cristiano in the rearview mirror. “I understand congratulations are in order, sir?”
“Thank you,” Cristiano said. He tenderly lifted a soft blue blanket against his sleeping baby’s plump cheek. Feeling Hallie’s gaze, Cristiano looked up. A current of electricity passed between them.
Biting her full, pink lower lip, she abruptly looked away. But his body was still aware of her. A new thought went through Cristiano.
He’d intended to marry her as a matter of honor and duty, but there would be compensations.
A year ago, he’d sent her away for her own good—and his. But fate had changed their lives. Now, through their child, they would always be connected.
Married.
And marriage would have other benefits. A wedding night. Endless sensual delights.
He wanted to kiss her. His gaze traced over the curve of her cheek, over the visible tremble of her pink lips as she stubbornly stared out the window into the dark city streets. He wondered how long it would take him to seduce her.
Would it be tomorrow?
Tonight?
Either way, Cristiano knew that nothing could now deny him the pleasure of taking Hallie to his bed. He would possess every inch of her. Every night. For as long as he desired.
Once they were wed, she would be his.
AS THEY LEFT the doctor’s private office downtown later that night, Hallie was in despair.
She couldn’t marry him. She couldn’t.
But how could she not?
Closing her eyes, she leaned back in the seat of the SUV and tried to picture herself as Cristiano’s wife. She imagined Cristiano in a tuxedo, striding through his luxury skyscraper while she trailed after him in a dumpy maid’s uniform.
How could the two of them ever marry? What did they even have in common?
Just one thing. Her gaze fell upon the baby in the car seat beside her.
What would it be like for Jack to be raised as a tycoon’s son, wealthy beyond belief? To go to all the best schools, with the best tutors? To be proficient at all the sports of the wealthy, like skiing, tennis, lacrosse? Every door in the world would be open to Jack.
A lump rose in her throat. But would her son be happy? Would he grow up to be a good, honorable man?
“Would you like me to take you home?” Cristiano said in a low voice.
Hallie looked at him over the baby seat in the back seat of the SUV. He’d taken off his tuxedo jacket and loosened his tie. His dark good looks and smoldering gaze burned through her.
“Home?” she whispered.
Cristiano lifted an eyebrow. “Whatever you might think of me, I’m not a total bastard. Now that I have proof of paternity I want you to be comfortable.”
He was willing to take Hallie home? He’d given up his ridiculous plan of forcing her to marry him?
A rush of relief flooded through Hallie; it was so great she almost cried.
“Thank you,” she choked out.
“Give Matthews your address.”
Her address. Remembering what had happened with her landlord that morning, she gulped. She didn’t want to face that horrible man again. Plus, if Cristiano saw where she’d been living, he might change his mind and refuse to let the baby live there. Hallie barely wanted to go back herself.
“Um...in the East Village,” she said vaguely.
Cristiano looked at her expectantly, dark eyebrows raised. Reluctantly she gave Matthews the address.
I just won’t let Cristiano go in, she told herself. The apartment building looked respectable enough on the outside. Plus, maybe her landlord was very sorry for what he’d done. Maybe.
She looked down at her baby, who’d been fed and changed at the clinic and was now happily babbling.