Page 21 of The Convenient Cosentino Wife

“So don’t,” Rocco said quietly, interrupting her. “Give him a father.”

“And where do I find such a man?”

“You could marry me.”

Clare’s lavender eyes grew huge. She blinked and stared at him, lips parted in shock. “But...you don’t want to be married. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

“I don’t wish to date, and I don’t wish to start over. But you’re not a stranger, and you have a son that needs a father, that could benefit from a family. From me.”

Rocco hadn’t come here expecting to say any of this, not today, and certainly not now, but the moment seemed right and he seized the opportunity. “I understand this would not be a love marriage. This is about being practical, and proactive. We can give Adriano a family—the structure and safety—as well as the heritage and traditions that are part of his Cosentino legacy. Culture and heritage are the very heart of my family, and I am confident it is what Marius would want for his son.”

Just hearing him say Marius’s name made her heart ache. “We live together...but as strangers?”

“Not strangers. Family, and partners, raising Adriano together.”

Her jaw worked. Fear darkened her eyes. “You want him.”

“I want to be part of his life. He’s the only family I have. Is it so strange to think he is important to me?”

“I worry you’ll take over his life.”

“Did I do that to Marius?”

She chewed on her lower lip and Rocco waited, wanting to give her time, knowing that if he came on strong and exerted too much pressure she’d feel threatened and reject his suggestion out of hand.

A minute ticked by, and then another. Finally Clare spoke. “Forgive me for being blunt, but I don’t see what I get from this? I like my life with my son. I like how it is now. We’re content—”

“For now. But what about later, when he is older? Have you thought about that? Children without fathers are vulnerable. Boys can be ruthless.”

“Not just boys.” Her gaze met his, her expression somber. “Girls can be equally ruthless. If not more so.”

“Then protect him from that. Give him two parents who can love him and protect him.”

“But I can’t replace Marius.”

“You needn’t replace him,” Rocco said quietly. “It would be impossible to replace him. But you could at least give his son the appearance of family.”

“Exactly what are you proposing?” she asked, her voice equally low.

She had not said no. She had not shown him to the door, or demanded her security drag him out. “Marry me.” Rocco’s gaze met hers. “Take my name. It is already Adriano’s last name. No one will think twice about his parentage. It will be assumed—”

“That you are his father?” Her voice rose, not high, but it was sharp, and brittle. “But you are not his father. And I will not have him thinking you are his father—”

“I would never presume.”

“You presume now.”

“I’m talking with you. We’re brainstorming, discussing different possibilities for Adriano and his future. Having raised a little boy before I believe now is an ideal time to make changes, should you want to make changes. But if you don’t...” He shrugged and left it at that.

She started to rise and then sat down again. Clare had gone white, and her naturally pink lips and lavender eyes were the only color in her pale face. “You’ve caught me off guard. I don’t know what to say. This isn’t something I expected, or even wanted to happen.” Her eyes briefly met his before looking away, guilt suffusing her because time was passing and change was needed, but it was so hard to let Marius go. “I will always love Marius.”

“I will, too, but here is the terrible, awful, painful truth. Marius is gone. Adriano will never know him. He will never know Marius’s laugh or his big hugs. He will not be taught how to ride by one of the greatest polo players in the world. He will not have the memories we do. But Adriano can have different memories. You don’t have to deprive him of a father figure. I can be there for him, just as I was for Marius.”

She reached for her glass of water, hand trembling. She took a drink and then another before setting the glass back down. Her expression was stricken. Clare used her knuckle to wipe beneath her eyes, knocking away the moisture. “Wouldn’t he be so confused? That he goes from knowing no one in his family to I’m suddenly married to his uncle? Isn’t it rather appalling? It’s like a Shakespearean play and the very suggestion makes my skin crawl.”

Three years ago he’d thought something similar, but Marius was gone now, and Rocco desired Clare more than ever. “I have no desire to confuse Adriano. That is not my intention. We can marry and take things slowly so that everyone can adjust. There is no need to traumatize anyone—you or him.”

“A marriage of convenience?” she asked, words clipped.

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