Page 35 of Back to Claim His Italian Heir

‘No. Definitely not.’ He ran his hand from her cheek to her shoulder and down her arm, twining his fingers with hers. ‘If anything, I admire you, Emma, for overcoming so much.’ He paused. ‘The OB told me some of the things you must have been through.’

She felt a blush heat her cheeks as she imagined what some of those things must have been, the more painful parts of her childhood she’d tried to forget. Why had she agreed, in a moment of defiance, to let her share her medical records with him? ‘What kind of things?’ she asked, although she wasn’t sure she actually wanted him to say it aloud. Still, she wanted to know how much he knew.

‘That you’d been malnourished as a child. And that you must have broken your wrist at some point and it didn’t heal properly, probably because it hadn’t been seen to.’ He paused and then added, his voice so achingly gentle, ‘And that there were scars on your legs that looked like cigarette burns.’

A lump was forming in her throat, making it hard to speak. Her eyes blurred so the world was just colour—the orange and violet of the sunset, the blue of the sea, the green of Nico’s kind, far too kind, gaze. She hadn’t expected him to say so much, to know so much. How much had that doctor been able to guess from her determinedly brief answers? ‘Well, some of those foster families weren’t so great,’ she managed in a half-mumble. ‘One in particular was pretty bad. But, you know, some were really good...’ The ones that hadn’t wanted her.

‘Oh, Emma.’ She couldn’t see what he was doing because of her blurred vision, but she felt him. His arms came around her and he drew her softly against him, so her cheek was pressed against his warm, solid chest and she could breathe in the wonderful scent of his aftershave, ofhim. She closed her eyes and a tear slipped down.

‘Please don’t feel sorry for me, Nico. Really. I don’t want you to.’

His hand was warm and steady on her back, moving in slow, comforting circles. ‘I told you, I don’t. Do you think I should?’

‘No, it’s just I couldn’t stand your pity. I’ve always tried to be strong—’

‘You are strong, Emma. Stronger than you even know.’ He eased back, framing her face with his hands, using his thumbs to gently wipe away her tears. ‘Stronger than I ever realised.’

‘It’s hard enough to feel like your equal,’ she confessed unsteadily. Maybe that was part of her trust issues—she wondered why he’d want her long-term, when nobody else had. ‘I just don’t want to feel even more...inferior.’

‘Inferior?’ His eyebrows rose, his fingers stilling on her face. ‘You are far, far from that, in absolutely every way,’ he told her, his voice a low, steady thrum, ‘I promise you. And I also promise you, as I did before, that I will be there for you in a way those foster families never were. I’ll always keep you safe, Emma, I promise.’

His voice throbbed with sincerity as Emma gazed up at him, wondering if she could believe him, longing to yet still struggling—not because of him, she knew, as much as herself. The doubts she still felt. And yet...it was so tempting to believe. She might not want to court the dangers of loving Nico, but living with him as his equal, his friend, and yes, his lover? She realised she wanted that. Desperately.

‘Do you believe me?’ he asked, and she managed a smile, small and tremulous, but there.

‘I’m trying to.’

‘How can I convince you?’

As he looked down at her with such tenderness, his hands still framing her face, Emma realised she knew exactly what she wanted—and needed—right now. Not more probing questions or well-intentioned reassurances, which only fed into her doubts and fears, but rather tangible proof—proof that this could work, thattheycould, in the most fundamental and elemental way possible.

‘Well...’Her smile deepened as she let out an unsteady laugh and let her gaze drop to his mouth before looking up again, a gasp caught in her throat at the gentleness in Nico’s eyes darkened with desire. His gaze scanned her face, searching for answers, and she gave them as she lifted her face up for his kiss.

‘Are you sure...?’ he asked, and she nodded.

‘Yes.’ Of this, absolutely. There was still so much she was unsure and afraid of—trusting Nico with her heart, whether they could be a family together, whether she could trust herself.

And yet this? Them, together, as one? Yes. She was sure of that. To prove it, she stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across the velvet of his mouth, revelling in the touch and taste of him.

It only lasted a few seconds, but that was all it took. Nico clasped her to him, plundering her mouth with a savage sweetness that thrilled her to her core. Oh, how she’d missed this. She’d let herself forget how good it had been, because it had been easier not to remember, not to miss what she’d had with him, so very briefly.

Although, she acknowledged dazedly, as he blizzarded kisses along her cheek and jaw down to her throat, his mouth moving everywhere with delicious intent, it was even better now, because their relationship was already so much deeper. Built on trust, growing in affection, not some out-of-time fantasy that never would have gone the distance. This, she hoped, would...if she could let herself believe in it.

Somehow they stumbled off the terrace, and into her bedroom. Emma turned to him, her heart hammering with expectation and just a little fear, because her body was different now and, even though everything so far had been absolutely explosive, she still felt unsure. What if he didn’t like the changes pregnancy had wrought? She knew she was too thin in some places and she had a very small baby bump, and maybe Nico wouldn’t...

That thought was obliterated as he reached for her, pulling the sash of her sundress loose, sliding the skinny straps off her shoulders. Breathlessly, she wriggled free as his own breathing turned ragged.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he told her softly and Emma let out a nervous little laugh.

‘I don’t feel beautiful,’ she confessed, because she’d never thought of herself as all that special, and it still amazed her that Nico desired her as much as she knew he did.

‘Then let me show you.’ He reached out and unclasped her bra, letting the garment fall from her shoulders so she could shrug out of it. Another shrug and the dress, which had caught around her hips, fell to the floor in a puddle of colourful cotton. Nervously, she kicked it away. She was naked save for a pair of bikini briefs, and Nico was still fully dressed. This was feeling a little unequal.

‘Feel,’ Nico said, and he drew her hand to his chest, so she could feel the thundering beat of his heat under her palm. ‘You see what you do to me?’ He drew her hand to the buttons of his shirt. ‘Will you undress me?’

The question, asked in a rasp of desire, held a vulnerable note that made her ache. It thrilled and amazed her, humbled her too, that he could want her. That he wanted to show her how much. Carefully, her fingers trembling just a little, she unbuttoned his shirt and then spread the fabric apart with her hands, revelling in the feel of his pectoral muscles, perfectly sculpted.

Emma let her hands dance and slide across his chest, exploring every beautiful, burnished inch of him before she dropped her hands to the waistband of his trousers, thrilling even more to the feel of him, yet also suddenly shy.

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