The Secret The Italian Claims. Jennie Lucas. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jennie Lucas
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474072250
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couldn’t let him see how badly that hurt her. When he’d first taken her in his arms that romantic night, she’d been so naive. She’d thought it was fate, an irresistible force drawing them together. She’d thought it was magic.

      Hallie had been startled when he’d walked into his penthouse early that afternoon. She’d been warned to be invisible and that her cleaning must be spotless. After spending so much time dusting pictures of his handsome face, seeing Cristiano in the flesh had shocked her.

      Cristiano Moretti was a dream come to life. A famous playboy, the self-made Italian hotel billionaire who dated princesses and heiresses.

      And inexplicably, he’d wanted her.

      One moment she and Cristiano had been talking by the bed; the next she’d been in his arms. After so many bleak years of anguish after losing her family and her home, when her handsome billionaire boss had lowered his lips to hers, Hallie had imagined all the pain was behind her. She’d thought her life had just changed for the better.

      And it had, in one way: her baby. Jack was all that mattered now.

      “I’m leaving,” Hallie said defiantly. “Once I cash your check, I promise you, we’ll be gone for good.”

      Cristiano lowered his head until it was inches from hers. “And I promise you. You’ll do nothing of the kind.”

      Her mouth went dry. As their eyes locked, her heart pounded in her throat as she realized her stupid, idiotic mistake.

      She never should have openly defied Cristiano. Because he’d taken her words not just as a challenge but as an insult to his masculinity. To his honor, even.

      All this time she’d been thinking about her pride. She hadn’t considered his. And now he would make her pay for it.

      “You don’t want me,” she whispered, her voice almost pleading. “You know you don’t.”

      His dark eyes seemed like deep, fathomless pools as his gaze ripped into her soul. Then he straightened.

      “You’re wrong about that. I’ve wanted you for a year. And now I will have you.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      His gaze fell to the stroller and his expression grew cold. “He’s my child, Hallie. I’m not going to let him go.” He focused on her. “Or you.”

      “I won’t be your mistress, if that’s what you mean,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm, not to show her rising fear.

      “I know.” Cristiano’s black eyes suddenly glittered, and he smiled. “Because you’re going to be my wife.”

      * * *

       His wife.

      Cristiano watched Hallie’s eyes widen in shock.

      It was strange, he thought. He hadn’t known he was going to demand marriage until the words came out of his mouth. His whole life, he’d never once been tempted to marry. Of course he’d never imagined he’d be a father, either. And as he spoke the words, he suddenly realized he did want to marry her.

      Call him an indecent excuse for a man?

      Say he was incapable of committing for longer than a night?

      Tell him he couldn’t even love his child if he tried?

      No.

      Cristiano wouldn’t abandon his newborn son to endure the same helpless childhood he’d known. Not when he himself had spent most of his adult life seeking vengeance on the father who’d abandoned him before he was born.

      But he couldn’t wrench his son away from Hallie, either. Mother and child were obviously bonded. Still, he needed to take control of the situation.

      Marriage was the brutally simple solution.

      “Marry you?” Hallie choked out, searching his gaze as if waiting for the punchline. “Are you crazy? I told you—I hate you!”

      “And I’m none too fond of you.” But as he put both hands on her shoulders and looked down at her, his nerve endings sizzled from the contact. He might be angry, but he’d told her the truth. He hadn’t stopped wanting her for a year.

      Her gaze fell unwillingly on his lips before she glared up defiantly. “Why would I marry you?”

      Looking down at the baby, who was now awake and trying to grab his own feet in the stroller, he said quietly, “For our child.”

      “But...you can’t seriously want to be a real father.” There was a new nervousness in her voice. “If you want to see Jack, maybe we could talk about visitation—”

      “No,” he said coldly. Her expression looked relieved until he continued grimly, “I will have full-time, permanent custody.”

      Hallie’s beautiful face blanched. She whispered, “You’d try to take him from me?”

      “No.” He gave her a cold smile. “I want him to have two parents. Even though you didn’t care about that.”

      Patrons and staff in the lobby had been staring at them for a while, but now they were coming closer, obviously trying to listen.

      “I’m not having this conversation here,” he said abruptly. “Come with me now.”

      She glanced around wildly, and he wondered if she was actually considering trying to flee. To help her avoid the temptation, he gently lifted the baby from the stroller.

      “What are you doing?” she gasped.

      “Holding my son,” he said, and started walking. She immediately followed him to the elevator, as he’d known she would.

      “Want me to come up with you, Mr. Moretti?” his bodyguard asked.

      Cristiano shook his head. “Tell Natalia I won’t be able to attend the gala after all. Give her my apologies.”

      “Sure, boss.”

      Cristiano continued into the elevator, with Hallie’s stroller dogging his heels. Once inside, he pressed his fingerprint against the hidden button for the penthouse.

      As they rode the elevator to the top floor, she watched him anxiously. He tried to act casual, as if he’d held a baby before, but he felt awkward. Even three-month-old Jack seemed to be looking up at him in disbelief, as if trying to decide whether to cry or not.

      “You’re doing it wrong. Hold his head like this,” Hallie blurted out, positioning the baby differently in his arms. She shook her head impatiently. “Just give him to me.”

      “Forget it,” he said crisply. Jack was his son and, in some respects, until he secured her loyalty as his wife, Hallie was his enemy. There was no way he’d admit he didn’t know what he was doing or give the baby back to her care in a sign of weakness and surrender.

      The elevator door slid open onto a small hallway with a grand door and a smaller, inconspicuous one farther down. The top floor of the Campania Hotel was devoted exclusively to Cristiano’s penthouse and terraces, with a small separate apartment for his bodyguard. He had a similar penthouse in his flagship hotel in Rome and smaller private suites in his hotels in Tokyo, Sydney, Rio, London and Berlin. He could have rented out the space to paying guests when he was away for an exorbitant amount, but he kept them to himself. Life was about little indulgences, or what was the point of being rich? A man, particularly a wealthy playboy, needed privacy.

      Hallie followed him anxiously into the penthouse, as if she feared he might drop the baby. It was insulting. Especially as Jack gave a soft whimper in Cristiano’s arms.

      “Give him to me—now!” Hallie said.

      Keeping his expression inscrutable and moving with deliberate slowness to show her that he was doing it as his own decision, not hers, he carefully handed her their son. Leaving the stroller in the foyer,