Bought by Her Italian Boss (9 page)

Vito did. His adoptive mother, the middle sister, often told the story of how she had thought she had miscarried, but Vito had miraculously survived. In reality, she and her husband had spirited her sister’s newborn to the family home at the lake and waited out a suitable time before presenting Vito as their son. His birthday was off by four months.

I paid a fortune to the doctors to write out a certificate that you had died with her. And threatened your father with murder charges if the affair ever came out. I’m certain he would come for you if he knew you survived
, Paolo’s father had warned.

Vito could only imagine the fortune Paolo’s father had paid to keep the liaison from becoming public knowledge and destroying the bank as it was. If online scandal rags had existed then, the affair wouldn’t have suppressed as easily, he was sure.

Your mother was too precious to me, you are too precious to me, for me to watch you two beating each other senseless.
Turning to Paolo, he had lifted his shirt, showing a long scar that had always been blamed on surgery, but not today.
Did I take this knife trying to bring home my sister so my own son could kill hers? Save your strength for the fights that matter, then fight them together. Understand?

He hadn’t had to warn them to keep the secret. That was a given. He had risen and urged Paolo to come with him, to give Vito time alone.

No
, Paolo had said.
I’ll stay.

They had sat in silence a long time, the space Paolo’s father had taken up a wide gap between them. Finally Paolo had said,
Do you want to punch me?

Yes
, Vito had seethed. But he hadn’t. They’d never fought again. They rarely mentioned it. Eventually Vito had learned the name of his biological father and the man’s predilection for violence had sickened him. Then there was the second son’s equally conscienceless disposition.

Vito wanted to believe he was different, but how could he claim to be a better man than what he’d come from when just the thought of those men and their actions put him into a state of mind willing to crush and kill? Vigilante justice was still brute force and only proved he was more like his biological father than he wanted to admit.

So he couldn’t in good conscience make children with a woman without telling her what kind of blood he carried and he couldn’t reveal the truth without endangering his family and the bank.

Therefore, he was a confirmed bachelor, destined to have affairs with women who didn’t expect a future and to commiserate with the struggles of child-rearing from the sidelines.

“Your lips are blue. Come out,” Paolo ordered his son.

“Three more,” Roberto said, holding up three quivering fingers, teeth chattering, narrow shoulders shaking as he prepared to dive for yet another colored rock.

“One,” Paolo said firmly.

“Two,” Roberto responded.

“Everything is a negotiation,” Paolo muttered, making Vito set his teeth because Paolo was complaining about a privilege not every man had. “Two. Then—”

“Paolo!” Gwyn came to the rail above them, at the edge of the pool deck. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. “Lauren says her water broke!”

Paolo went white and grim, swearing tightly. “Out, Roberto. Now. Stay with Vito,” he ordered his son, locking gazes with Vito long enough to cement the command that Vito keep his son from drowning, but also sharing a moment of genuine fear.

It struck Vito that Paolo had never told Lauren why he didn’t find these home births of hers as much of a joke as she did. He knew women could die.

It also told him how volatile his secret still was, if Paolo hadn’t shared it with the woman who was his other half.

“I’ll call the ambulance,” he said to Paolo’s back, pulling out his phone as his cousin took the stone stairs in great leaps, already pushing back his sleeves.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“T
HAT
WAS
THE
most remarkable experience of my life,” Gwyn said forty minutes later, as the ambulance carried off a grumbling Lauren and an infant boy who had squawked once, latched perfectly, then fallen asleep snuggled against her.

“They’re just going to tell me that everything is fine and I can go home if I want to. I wish you hadn’t called them,” Lauren scolded Vito on her way out the door.

“Humor us,
mia bella
,” Paolo said with equanimity, buttoning his clean shirt with hands that might have tremored a little, but he’d barely broken a sweat while carrying his wife to their bed and catching their son minutes later.

He’d been very coolheaded, calling Gwyn to bring him the bag he’d prepared with clean towels and receiving blankets, speaking to his wife in a calm, tender tone, using sterilized clips and scissors from the bag to cut the cord himself, as if he’d been a midwife all his life.

Their daughter slept through most of it, waking in time to glimpse her new brother, but quite content to cuddle with Vito amidst all the activity. Roberto called the little girl Bambi, which was adorable, and both children stayed with Gwyn and Vito while Paolo went in the ambulance with his wife. A car pulled out from the house across the street where the drivers and other ancillary staff were staying, following to bring them back once Lauren and the baby had been examined.

Vito didn’t say anything as he closed the door. In fact, his color was down and he took a measured breath as if he’d just dodged a train.

“You’re green around the gills, Vittorio,” Gwyn chided, amused. “Were you worried?” She hadn’t had time to panic and was riding a high of amazement.

“Lauren makes it look easy,” he said in a tone that suggested he was well aware labor and delivery didn’t always go so smoothly.

“I’ll say,” Gwyn responded. “I didn’t even get the water boiled!” She moved into the kitchen where she had managed to snap off the gas on her way to fetch Paolo. “Shall I finish making dinner?”

“We’ll help,” Vito said, sliding Bianca onto a stool while Roberto climbed into the one his mother had been using. Vito was very good with the children and they openly adored him, grinning at his teasing, behaving angelically as he gently kept them on task.

Vito exchanged several texts with Paolo, who mentioned that everything was fine but there was a small delay in seeing the doctor.

“Paolo will be taking some family time now that the baby is here,” Vito said to Gwyn. “We had planned for this, but we’ll have a proper meeting when he gets back to review a few things before I assume his duties. You and I will spend the night here and head back to the city in the morning.”

Gwyn nodded absently, too caught up in watching him cut up a little girl’s food, steady Roberto’s hand as he shook out red pepper flakes then smoothly reached to top up Gwyn’s wineglass with a practiced flair. Throw in his ability give a woman orgasms and get the laundry done and he was the perfect man in every way.

He met her gaze.

Her thoughts must have reflected in her it. Building a career had been a dominating goal in her life, partly because she’d seen how hard her mother had struggled to support herself without a proper profession. Gwyn had focused on her degree and finding the right job and chasing opportunities for advancement. It had meant relegating a husband and children to a dreamy “someday” that she hoped would find her when the time was right.

But she longed for a place to settle and call home. She wanted a family within it that wasn’t a tenuous late-in-life connection, but a network of blood ties like this family had, where a woman could be nosy about a man simply because she cared about him. She could leave her children with him in utter confidence that he would keep them safe and give them the affectionate security that fed their souls.

“Be careful, Gwyn,” Vittorio said with gentle gravity, holding her gaze.

She scanned for hazards the children might tip before meeting his gaze again, confused.

He wore the tough, circumspect look of the man who’d first stared her down in Nadine Billaud’s office.

“This is not our life,” he said in the same temperate tone. “Not yours. Not mine. So stop thinking it will happen.”

She was far too transparent around him. It was achingly painful to be this obvious, especially when he had touched her so intimately they were practically lovers, then shot down her dreams so dispassionately, leaving her nursing a giant ache that hollowed out her chest.

“Not with you, perhaps,” she said, lifting her glass and her chin, holding his gaze even though the locked stare made her stomach cramp. “But there’s no reason I can’t have something like this, someday. Is there?” she challenged.

He might have flinched, but she wasn’t sure.

And the silence went on long enough for her to remember her own notoriety. Would anyone want her after this? Ever?

A noise at the door told them the new parents had returned.

Gwyn rose to set two more places, grateful for a reason to turn away and hide that her eyes were welling up.

* * *

“Do you need the address for my flat?” Gwyn asked the driver as they slid into the car the next morning.

“I have it, thank you,” the driver assured her as he closed her door for her.

The air was fresh, the sun shining and the children had both hugged her at the door. Nevertheless, Gwyn’s good mood took a dip when Vittorio made no protest against her going home.

She wasn’t about to ask him what
he
had planned for her, though. She had lain awake a long time last night considering her options. Her life wasn’t over, she had concluded. It just needed to be re-envisioned.

As Vito flicked through messages on his tablet, she took a firm grip on the future she had outlined for herself. She opened her social media accounts and started removing objectionable posts. Dear Lord there were some nasty people out there. Some thought she was a harlot, others offered to do lewd things to her...

She didn’t realize she was making noises like she was being roundly beaten in a boxing ring until Vito asked sharply, “What are you reading?”

“I want to connect with a headhunter to start searching out a position for when this is over.” She winced as an invitation to hook up flashed into her eyes with a photo that couldn’t be deleted fast enough. “I have to clean up my news feeds first, before potential employers look them over. It’s a minefield.”

“
You
don’t,” he growled, reaching across to click off her phone. “Plumbers exist to clean up sewage. I’ve already assigned you a PR assistant. She’ll meet with you this afternoon and scrub all of this.”

The last thing she wanted was to accept more generosity from him, but she was too grateful to refuse.

“And I’ll see that you have a suitable position when the time comes so don’t put out feelers for a job yet. It sends the wrong message.”

“What does ‘suitable’ mean?”

“Something equivalent or better to the position you had, so you’re not set back in your career. I’ve discussed it with Paolo and you’ll receive a glowing recommendation, a severance package and a settlement for the damage caused by our leaving you in the position of working with Jensen despite having him under investigation. We’ve agreed that if we had removed you when we became suspicious, the photos wouldn’t have happened, so we’ll be accepting responsibility for that. We’ll work out the exact details once we have Jensen on the ropes.”

She blinked, stunned. Inside her chest, her heart rose like the sun from behind dark mountains, beaming light through her whole being. Lightness. The weight of being mistrusted lifted and something like hope dawned in her for the first time since she’d walked into Nadine’s office and seen those photos.

“You believe me?” The words were very tentative. She could barely take it in.

“I do.” His expression was grave, but there was a hard light in his eyes, not hostile, but daunting. It leaned even more impact to his words as he said, “These actions against you will not go unpunished.”

She didn’t fear him in that moment, but she recognized that he was a man to be feared.

And she was so relieved to have him on her side, so touched that he believed her, she grew teary and had to look away, unable to even voice a heartfelt,
Thank you
.

“But for now your occupation is ‘mistress.’”

She flung her head around to confront him. “Did you say that to make me angry?”

He didn’t glance up from flicking the screen on his tablet. “I said it because it’s true.”

“Oh, well, pray tell, what are the duties of that position? Does it come with benefits?”
Shut up, Gwyn.

He took his time letting her regret that impulsive outburst, slowly lifting his attention to scan her expression while a faint smile played around his lips.

“Amusing me is your primary function,” he said, adding a sardonic, “Check.”

Then he had the audacity to let his gaze take a leisurely tour down her new top. It was a simple low-necked, peach-colored silk with a pleat at her cleavage. Not particularly sexy, but he seemed to look right through it, making her breasts feel heavy and her nipples tight. She found herself pressing her jeans-clad thighs together as a throb hit where he’d caressed her in this very backseat yesterday.

“We’ve covered the benefits,” he added. “And that you may take advantage of them as often as you see fit.”

“And this is supposed to fill up my nine-to-five?” she shot back, trying to cover her pulsing response, flicking her glance at the closed privacy screen while she willed her fierce blush to recede.

“I can’t make love to you
all
day,
cara
. I have responsibilities.”

She tried to send him a disgusted glare, but anticipation curled through her despite herself, melting her insides and turning her on. Yes, his low voice and sexy promise made her hot, curse him.

“Did you relive it last night?” he asked in a low tone of lusty pleasure. “I did. I wanted you to come to me, so I could feel you fall apart like that again. Under me this time.”

Her stomach swooped and she turned her face to the window, trying to hide that she had toyed with the idea of going to him. She had ached with desire and had had to fight against the urge.

“I need to find healthier ways to deal with my situation than cheap sexual gratification,” she said.

“Stop calling it cheap.” His voice lashed with quick anger, making all the hairs rise on her body.

Now who was angry and who was laughing? She looked back at him and let him see her smug delight in getting a rise out of him.

“I’m sorry,” she said with mock regret. “This is becoming quite expensive for you, isn’t it? Because if you won’t let me get a real job, you’ll have to cover the lease on my flat.” It was a childish jab and promptly fell flat.

“That’s already in the works.”

Her smarmy grin fell away.

He smiled at having drawn the wind from her sails. “I’ve had mistresses before,” he added calmly, sobering a few degrees as he added, “Never one who has moved in with me, but we have a message to broadcast. I’ve assigned you an assistant. She’ll send you our calendar shortly.”

Moved in?
Our
calendar?

“I thought I was going back to my flat.” She glanced toward the driver who had said he had her address.

“To get your passport and any other personal items you don’t want to leave for the movers. Am I speaking English? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“When did I agree to move in with you? Do I get my own room?”

“Do you want one?” he asked, sounding oh-so-reasonable against her high pitch of disbelief, but the knowing slant to his half-closed lids made the question not just annoying, but far too rhetorical.

She didn’t know how to be sophisticated and blasé about agreeing to be his lover. She was still fighting the longing to. Deep down, however, she knew she wanted to go to bed with him, and very likely would, which was the most aggravating part of it all.

Thankfully her phone buzzed. She glanced to see her new assistant was loading her calendar.

Gwyn scanned through, seeing that she had legal meetings, appointments with her PR assistant, stylists, boutiques—

“A
spa
?” she said sharply to Vito.

“All the women in my family frequent it. Don’t worry. It’s secure.”

Luncheons, dinners—

“Berlin?”

“I have meetings.” He shrugged.

London, Paris, back to Milan then three stops in Asia.

“What am I doing while you’re working in all these places?” she asked, mind whirling.

“You’ll have a security detail. Do whatever you want. Shop, visit the museums. You won’t have as much time as you think. I’ll need you at my side quite often.”

She spent the rest of the drive answering questions for her assistant: Did she have any special dietary requirements or allergies? Any requests for products to have on hand at Vito’s apartment or while she traveled? Was she due for any dental or medical appointments that should be scheduled? What about prescription refills?

More birth control pills? Was that what she was asking, Gwyn wondered with mild hysteria?

When they arrived in the city, they went straight to her building where a handful of photographers quickly snapped to attention from slouching on scooters and hovering on stoops. Vito’s security guards kept them at a respectful distance and movers arrived shortly after Gwyn entered her flat.

The place was untouched, her plate with toast crumbs from a few days ago still sitting by the sink, but everything had changed. Not just her life, but there was something in
her
that was changing. She was a self-sufficient person, didn’t want to look to Vito to rescue her like some kind of damsel needing a white knight, but as he gave instructions and spoke to her landlord to assure him the crowds at the entrance to the building would cease now that she was leaving, she felt grateful to have him on her side.

She hated feeling weak and managed and powerless, but if someone else was stealing control of her life, she was glad the rudder had wound up in his unerring hands.