LITMIR.BIZ

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waited for them, her yellow Vespa gleamed from its parking space. ‘I hope you’re not riding on that thing any more,’ he said, nodding at it.

      ‘No,’ she answered shortly, getting into the back of the car.

      He followed her in, a pang hitting his stomach as he recalled the big beam on her face the one time he’d seen her ride on it—the day of their impromptu date. Another thing pregnancy would force her to give up.

      When the car started to move, she turned to look at him, a set look on her face. ‘Christian, let me make one thing quite clear. You are going to be my husband, not my keeper. Do not dictate to me.’

      He sighed. ‘Is this about the Vespa?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘I wasn’t dictating to you. I was satisfying myself that you’re not putting our child’s life at risk by continuing to ride on it, especially here in Milan.’

      ‘That is exactly what I mean. I don’t need you to tell me the drivers here all approach the road as an assault course that must be beaten—I live here. I might not have a penis between my legs but my brain and rationality work perfectly well.’

      ‘I never said it didn’t,’ he said, keeping his tone even. ‘But you must appreciate that it is my child you are carrying and it is only right I take an interest in its welfare.’

      ‘But it is my life. I will not be told what to do.’

      ‘I am not telling you what to do.’ How he held on to his patience, he did not know. ‘All I’m saying is that having a child changes things…’

      ‘You think I don’t know that?’ she said, her colour darkening. ‘You think I’m not aware of the responsibility I have to bring our child safely into this world? Do you think I’m not capable?’

      ‘Alessandra…’ He took a breath and fisted his hands into balls. ‘Will you stop putting words into my mouth? You’re making assumptions.’

      Her shoulders hunched before she flopped her head back and took a long breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I have an aversion to being told what to do.’

      ‘I had already gathered that.’

      She cast a sideways glance at him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her very pretty ear.

      ‘As well as my aversion to being bossed around, I also have a tendency to get grumpy when I’m worried about something,’ she admitted, her tone now rueful.

      ‘You’re worried about Rocco’s reaction to our news?’

      ‘Aren’t you?’

      He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

      ‘Whatever happens with your brother, nothing will change. You and I will still marry. If he gives his blessing, then that will be beneficial, but if he doesn’t then we will handle it together. Okay?’ he added when she didn’t answer, simply sank her teeth into her bottom lip and tugged her hand free from his clasp.

      She nodded slowly, and absently rubbed at the top of her hand where his fingers had rested. ‘Rocco is very protective of me. He always has been.’

      ‘You’re his sister; nothing will change that.’ Christian was doing his best to project a positive frame of mind for Alessandra’s benefit but was under no illusion about how hot-headed her brother could be. He knew that if the forthcoming meeting was badly handled, their friendship would be ruined.

      Alessandra’s lungs had closed up.

      The intimacy of the cab, the forced proximity…

      Worry about her brother’s reaction faded as Christian’s oaky cologne filled her senses, moisture filling her mouth and bubbling low in her most intimate area.

      She pressed her thighs together and dragged out a short breath. It wasn’t enough. She needed air.

      There was nowhere to hide.

      The traffic outside was atrocious. They were still a couple of streets away from the House of Mondelli, where her brother awaited her. If she were on her Vespa she would be there by now, able to weave in and out of the traffic while turning a deaf ear to the tooting horns.

      ‘Let’s walk the rest of the way,’ she said. She needed air. She needed to breathe. ‘It’ll be quicker.’

      Christian nodded and pressed the button to lower the partition, telling his driver to stop the car. As they were already stationary, this required no effort on the driver’s part.

      Alessandra immediately felt better out in the balmy spring air. She loved the sunshine; knew it was the reason her grandfather had left her the villa in St. Barts, so she had a bolt hole to escape to when the gloomy Milanese winter set in. She had no idea yet what she would do with the apartment in Paris he had also left her, but the villa would remain hers until she took her last breath. Which, if the Milanese drivers had anything to do with it, could be sooner rather than later.

      They made it to the entrance of the luxurious building without being squashed by any moving vehicles and stepped inside. She smiled at the glamorous receptionists and, with Christian by her side, strode past the large rooms homing all the creative minds that made the House of Mondelli such a success, and through to her brother’s office. His door was closed; Gabrielle, his PA, guarded it with her desk like a sentry. She stood to greet them.

      Alessandra cast a quick glance at Christian, experiencing the strangest compulsion to grab hold of his hand. He inclined his head and threw a small, encouraging smile. She couldn’t read his eyes.

      Taking a deep breath, she rapped on the door and pushed it open.

      Rocco was at his desk talking into his phone. A smile formed on his lips at seeing his sister, his eyes pulling into a question at seeing Christian follow her inside and shut the door behind him.

      He ended the call and got to his feet, sidling round his desk to pull her into an embrace. ‘You’re looking well, sorellina.’ Little sister.

      ‘And you’re looking tanned. Good honeymoon?’

       ‘Perfetto.’

      She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so happy. ‘How’s Liv?’

      Somehow his face lit up even more. ‘She’s wonderful.’ Rocco moved on to Christian, giving him a bear hug, which he returned. ‘What are you doing here?’

      ‘I’m here to see you,’ Christian said.

      If Rocco heard the serious inflection in his friend’s voice he made no sign of it. ‘Alessandra and I have a lunch date—are you joining us?’

      ‘Rocco,’ said Alessandra, placing a hand on her brother’s arm to get his attention. ‘Christian is here with me. We have something to tell you.’

      Immediately the light in her brother’s eyes dimmed, became wary. ‘Tell me what?’

      Christian shifted slightly and placed an arm around her waist. The gesture felt almost protective. ‘We’re getting married,’ he said, his tone serious.

      Rocco shook his head as if clearing his ears of water. ‘Married?’

      ‘Yes. We wanted you to be the first to know.’

      Alessandra pressed closer to Christian in a show of unity and forced a breezy laugh. If they could make this look and sound as natural as possible, then Rocco should be accepting of their plans. That was what she’d been telling herself for almost a fortnight. ‘I want you to give me away.’

      Rocco laughed with her, although not at his usual pitch. ‘You two are getting married?’

       ‘Si.’

      ‘My little sister and my best friend?’

      ‘Si! Isn’t it wonderful?’

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