Page 26 of The Baby His Secretary Carries

Even as she reminded herself of that, she wished the end would never arrive. Her arms slid themselves behind his neck and she lifted her mouth for the touch of his. He kept it chaste, but her lips clung to his, encouraging him to linger, her body not listening to her mind.

Her chest ached with loss when they drew apart.

The swoony “O-o-oh...” from their audience brought a blush to her cheeks, but now they were back to the business of selling this engagement. A series of photos followed, first as they cut into the cake, then as they shared the first piece.

A solid hour passed as they handed out cake, accepting congratulations. Everyone was so nice and genuinely happy for them that Molly began to feel ill with guilt.

When they finally got back into Gio’s office, she collapsed onto the sofa.

“I cannot believe you did that to me,” she groused.

“Neither can Valentina. She wants to hear from you before she decides whether to report me to HR. She wasn’t joking,” he added when Molly chuckled. “She said she’d risk her job if necessary. I assured her she is not at risk for doing her job, but I did tell her this is a pretense for Nonno and my father.”

“Thank you for that,” she said sincerely. It had been bothering her, wondering what Valentina would think of all of this.

The rest of the day was business as usual and very busy, but she was finding her feet with Nelo and the other assistants, which helped a lot.

They had an early dinner with Otto on their way home. He was sitting up and ate a few bites of the cake Molly brought him. His spirits were high because his doctor had told him he could go home in a day or two, to finish recuperating there.

Molly was equally pleased, especially because she could see that Gio was relieved, but the talons of guilt at their subterfuge were digging ever deeper under her skin.

“I hate lying to everyone, especially your grandfather,” she told Gio when they returned to his apartment that evening.

Gio yanked at his tie, then poured himself a drink and a glass of sparkling water with lime for her.

“My grandfather would rather it wasn’t a lie,” he stated as he brought her the glass.

“Yes, I’m aware.” She had already kicked off her pumps, so she curled her legs under her as she settled into the corner of the sofa and accepted her drink. “But as fond as I’m becoming of him, that’s not the sort of love I intend to marry for.”

“You’re a romantic?” His eyebrows went up as he settled into the chair that faced her. “I’ve always thought of you as pragmatic, but you do let people prey upon your emotions, don’t you?”

“You, for instance?” she asked with a facetious smile.

He sipped his drink, saying nothing.

She curled herself tighter into the corner of the sofa.

“I like to help people when I can.” Who didn’t? “But my desire to marry for love is actually a practical choice.” Why did saying that make her feel so exposed? Maybe because it sounded as though she was refusing an offer he hadn’t actually made?

“How do you mean?” he asked with curiosity.

“My parents married because they accidentally got pregnant with me,” she explained with a pang of her old feelings of inadequacy. “In fact, my mother went into reproductive care because she felt so betrayed by how poorly she had been educated as a teenager about her own body, then neglected as she went through a difficult pregnancy. They both loved me, but they felt trapped in their marriage. I don’t blame them for divorcing, but it was hard for me. When you’re the reason your parents married, you also feel like a failure when they don’t stay married.”

“You knew all of that when you weresix?”

“No. At six, I only knew that Dad moved out. Then he moved far away and started a new family. I visited a few times a year, but I didn’t feel like I had a place there. Eventually, it came out that they had never been in love. They had tried to make the best of an unplanned pregnancy, but were better apart. They were trying to help me understand, but I still felt like the glue that wasn’t strong enough. I don’t ever want to put my own child through a divorce, but more than that, I don’t want my child to suffer the pressure of holding a couple together.”

Only two end table lamps were burning, so it wasn’t easy to read his eyes, but she was certain his gaze slid down to her middle. She sealed her lips, reminding him they weren’t talking aboutthisbaby or the fact she wasn’t with its father.

“What happens in three weeks?” he asked after a long pause. “You go home?”

“No.” Her thoughts flashed to the plans she’d made with Sasha to stay out of sight for the remainder of her pregnancy. Would the island villa still happen? Why weren’t Rafael or Sasha texting her back?

Her uncertainty must have shown on her face.

“So stay. Continue to work until you take your mat leave.”

“And let everyone, including your grandfather, believe this baby is yours? No. This lie has already gone too far. I don’t even know how anyone is buying this engagement. It’s obvious I’m a Podunk girl who doesn’t belong in your world. I’m not even someone you’d have an affair with.”

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