Page 31 of The Baby His Secretary Carries

“In every way. I don’t...” She looked over her shoulder toward the bedroom, where faint voices were still conversing in Italian, then came closer to him. “I don’t belong here,” she whispered. “I’m not one of you.”

“I hesitate to say this,cara, because I’ve promised myself I won’t come on too strong tonight. But if you belong to me, then you belong.”

Her lips parted and her breasts rose in a shaken breath. “But I don’t.”

“But you will.” The embers of want in his belly flared even hotter.

He wanted her to belong to him, physically, but in other ways, too. That desire was growing into such an intense imperative, he pushed it aside for examination later.

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her painted nails. “Shall we go?”

Molly didn’t need a wrap. The party was in the hotel ballroom on a lower floor.

As they stepped into the elevator, she crushed a tiny, emerald-green clutch in her fist, as though it contained an elixir that would save her life.

Nothing could save her from the way Gio was looking at her, though. From the moment she had walked out of the bedroom, she’d been a bundle of nerves that she would disappoint him. Ironically, it was harder to take the burn of approval that ignited his gaze. It warmed her from the inside out, scorched away her insecurities and seared away any resistance she had left.

How could she not respond to being admired by a man like him? What had begun as a crush was now a full-blown infatuation with a man who seemed to reciprocate her attraction, but hadn’t outright said so. She kept trying to convince herself there was nothing between them, then he would look at her or touch her or kiss the daylights out of her and make her thinkif...

If you belong to me...

“We don’t need to stay long if you’d rather not.”

She had slept a full hour in the spa’s serenity room. That was after she had been soaked and massaged, mani-ed and pedi-ed, fed light snacks and hydrated with citrus-infused mineral water.

He wasn’t suggesting they go upstairs to rest, though. When she met his glittering gaze, she saw lust. The bottom fell out of her heart.

The doors opened and she was so disconcerted, she was glad that he took her hand to lead her into the room full of pearlescent balloons and fairy lights, with tuxedos and gowns in every color.

He was right. She was glad that she wore something that could compete with the rest of the haute couture around her. It was a full-on runway, with enough sparkling diamonds to inspire a hundred jewel-thief movies.

A beautiful couple was greeting every guest personally.

“Gio! You made it,” the tall, dark and handsome man said.

“Molly, these are our hosts, Vittorio and Gwyn Donatelli.”

“Oh, my God, I love your necklace. We’re so delighted to meet you, Molly.” Gwyn was blonde, sounded American and was also very attractive.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Molly murmured as she learned the art of cheek kisses, exchanging them with Gwyn, then her husband.

“Call me Vito,per favore,” he murmured.

“Gio, you scoundrel,” Gwyn greeted. “That was a very generous donation you made to my foundation, thank you.”

Molly had asked if they were supposed to bring a gift, but the party was an annual fundraiser for an organization that promoted online privacy and helped victims of revenge porn. Apparently, Gwyn had met her husband after nude photos of her had been leaked without her knowledge or consent.

“You’re American, too,” Gwyn said to Molly. “I still stumble over cultural differences so please call me if anything comes up or you need help finding anything. Gio has my number.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Molly hadn’t expected to be greeted with such warmth, especially after her experience on Sasha’s yacht.

“Let’s plan to connect, anyway,” Gwyn urged. “I’d love to get to know you better.”

“I’d like that,” she said, even as she recalled that she wasn’t really marrying Gio. In another twelve days or so, she would melt into the woodwork, never to see any of these people again. Not even Gio.

A chill wind whistled through the cavern of her chest.

“We’ll let you greet the rest of your guests,” Gio said, branding the small of Molly’s back with his hand.

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