Modern Romance January 2020 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

course.’ His fingers trembled a little as he took the ring from the box and slid it on her finger, where it winked and sparkled, a promise they were making to each other. He clasped her hand with his own. ‘Do you mean this, Mia?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘You want this?’ he pressed, because somewhere along the way that had become important, too. This wasn’t just about winning any more, or getting what he wanted. He needed her to want it, as well. To want him.

      ‘Yes.’ Her voice quavered. ‘I’m scared, Alessandro. I can admit that. I don’t know what the future holds, but I also know I don’t want to be enslaved to my past. So yes, I want this. For Ella’s sake, and perhaps even for…for ours.’ Her worried gaze searched his face as she nibbled her lip. ‘I know we haven’t actually talked about what a marriage between us would look like, besides the obvious…’

      No, they hadn’t. For a moment Alessandro couldn’t speak, as realisation caught up with him and he desperately tried to order his jumbled thoughts. He’d been so focused on Ella, on their being a family, that he hadn’t completely considered what their relationship—their marriage—would actually look like. What it would mean.

      And he was conscious, incredibly so, that in accepting his proposal, or, rather, offering her own, Mia was giving herself to him. Her body, her mind, and yes, perhaps even her heart. Her life. Precious, fragile gifts. And he was even more conscious that in offering them, she’d, inadvertently or not, given him back the power she hated to relinquish, and which he’d always craved.

      What if he hurt her?

      What if she hurt him?

      The second question, he told himself, wasn’t a consideration; he would not allow that to happen. He would honour his marriage vows, and give Mia respect and companionship and so much pleasure. Of that he was sure. But as for love? His heart? The ability to reach inside and hurt him?

      No. He saw where that led. He’d seen and felt the pain and brokenness all through his childhood. His mother’s tears, anger, addictions, helplessness and grief. No. He could not offer Mia that kind of love.

      But what he could offer…he’d make sure she’d be happy with. She’d want for nothing. He’d treat her like a queen.

      ‘We’ll figure it out as we go along,’ Alessandro told her, smiling to soften the prevarication of his words, and what they both knew he wasn’t saying. Wasn’t promising. He saw it in the cloudy flicker of her eyes, the slight downturn of her mouth before she made herself smile back. ‘This is going to work, Mia. I will do my best, my utmost, to give you everything. To never hurt you.’ Again he felt the weight of what he wasn’t saying.

       To love you.

      She nodded slowly. ‘I know you will, Alessandro.’

      ‘When shall we marry?’

      ‘There’s no real rush, is there?’

      ‘Why not make it official?’

      ‘We still could use the time to get to know each other,’ Mia protested. ‘The three months…’

      ‘It’s already been nearly three weeks,’ Alessandro returned. Why not marry sooner?’

      ‘At least give it a couple of weeks, so we can plan.’

      ‘Very well.’ He could wait that long. ‘Are there people you want to invite?’

      She shook her head. ‘No, not really.’

      ‘Then it will be just us, and Ella, exactly as it should be.’ He smiled, liking the thought. ‘A family from the beginning.’

      ‘Yes.’ She smiled back, but he saw a tiny frown puckering the ivory smoothness of her brow, and he drew her towards him for a lingering kiss. ‘We will do this properly, and wait for our wedding night,’ he said, savouring the thought. ‘Trust me, Mia, our marriage will be the beginning of everything.’