Page 49 of The Italian's Pregnant Enemy (A Diamond in the Rough)

He was not creative. He was good at building things. And not hiring the right people to design them. To execute them. People were his talent.

Lyssia seemed to have many talents, and she was not given credit for that.

“What made you decide to design these things?” He would never have thought of it. It was interesting. He felt big, he was good at that. But the truth was, it had been a natural extension for him to go into the business he had because he had come up working in hospitality.

“I...” She looked down, her cheeks turning the same color crimson of her lips.

“Tell me,” he said. “Whatever it is inspired you to start a company. Whatever it is you have taken that inspiration and created many beautiful things with it. I want to know.”

She smiled, lovely. Warm. It made something bloom within him.

“My mom loved to decorate. I associated all of these little touches around the house with her. They stayed the same for long time afterward. And then after I left the house, my dad sort of redid everything and made it very Spartan. He didn’t add decorations. He didn’t put knickknacks on shelves. He didn’t have decorative lamps. I associated touches of home, of warmth with her. It can make you feel certain things. It can change your whole mood. I thought if I could help people change their surroundings, I can help them change the way that they felt. There is something about an attention to detail that can really create a whole new environment. I know my bedroom was really messy. But my house is stylized, but lived in. I don’t like things to be to Spartan. It reminds me of... Of loss.”

“I can think of few other better reasons to do anything.”

He sat there watching, holding the stem on his wineglass between his thumb and forefinger, turning it absently. “I think one reason I was drawn to hospitality, other than the fact that a cruise ship allowed me to gain entry into the United States, was that it was about comfort. I had a shortage of it. For many years. And there was something about being able to give it to somebody else, and by doing that work, earning money so that I can have some myself, that gave me a sense of purpose. And of pride. I do not create things like you do. But it was still a lack of something that drew me to this life. I can do anything now. I could stop working. I could buy a different company. Get into a new sort of industry. I like what I do now.”

“Do you... I know that you care a lot about the environment.”

He sniffed. “It’s expedient to be seen as doing so.”

“Yes, your street cred is safe with me. I think you care about it. What other charities do you give to?”

“It isn’t important,” he said.

“Ah, so there are charities.” She looked far too pleased with herself for divining that information. He found her irritating.

“I don’t see what business it is of yours.”

“We’re sharing information. Having a conversation. Like humans. Humans that are about to be engaged.”

“I have a foundation. I don’t advertise it. For homeless youth. And another for general housing and security. We’ve had old hotels and apartment buildings renovated into affordable housing. And we give classes, to help people reenter society. One of the things people don’t realize about growing up in that way, or living that way for a certain number of years, is that it isn’t quite so simple as just deciding to step back into society. You have to learn. I was good at that. I was good at watching people and figuring it out on my own. But not everybody is. I was able to come up with a very convincing facade. One that helps me convince people that I belonged wherever I was. I don’t take that for granted. Nor do I expect for everyone to be able to do it.”

“You’re a very compassionate person,” she said.

He wanted to push against that. He had never thought of himself as compassionate. He had only ever thought of himself as practical. It wasn’t right that people suffer on the streets if they wanted a different life. It wasn’t right that children should suffer because of the choices that their parents had made. He didn’t believe that people should be thrown away like garbage, he didn’t consider that compassion, he considered it reasonable.

“Don’t spin fantasies about me. I am the man that you have always known. The man you disliked this entire time. And now that I have given you pleasure, you seem to like me more.”

“That isn’t all you did. I’m having your baby.”

“Yes, well. Don’t go trying to spin that into a better situation by creating stories about me. I am still the man that you’ve known all this time. The one that you found cold and cruel at times.”

“But you’re also the man that I got to know in the chalet. You are also a man who hasn’t forgotten where he came from. Maybe I shouldn’t romanticize you, but isn’t it fair to say that you’re more than you’ve shown me?”

“You make it sound as if I have done something deliberate with you, and I have not.” He chose his words carefully. Because they were sharp enough that they would slice beneath her skin, and she might not feel it just now. But she would later.

“None of this has been a game. And none of it has been a plan. I was not hiding something and then showing you. I did not think of you at all. I thought of myself. My own comfort, and my own enjoyment.”

“Liar,” she said.

Later. It would hurt later. It would make her think later.

The dessert came, and as soon as she finished the last bite, he moved from his chair and got down on one knee. “Lyssia,cara, will you marry me?”

CHAPTER TEN

UNTILHE’DGOTTENdown on one knee, she’d forgotten it was a farce. Well, it wasn’t a farce. She was really going to marry him because she was really having a baby.

---