Page 6 of The Baby His Secretary Carries

“Have the doctor come. I’ll go up and persuade him to let him in.”

“Grazie.”Ilario flicked his gaze to Molly.

Gio had hold of her arm again. He kept doing it and didn’t mean to. She wasn’t his date. She wasn’t wearing five-inch heels and an evening gown. She didn’t need a supportive hand as she climbed in and out of his jet or his car.

Nevertheless, he had offered assistance every single time.

She was so damn warm, though. He felt encased in ice. His frozen fingers kept seeking out the warmth that seeped through the sleeve of her silk blouse, trying to thaw blood that had slowed and thickened with dread.

Hehatedthis sensation, so he was seeking the most immediate and efficient means of melting it away: touching her.

“I’m Molly.” She offered Ilario the sunny smile that Gio had felt like a strike of lightning through his center the first time he’d met her. That extreme reaction was the reason he had kept her firmly in the role of employee, enjoying the heat of being near her, but staunchly avoiding stepping into the fire.

“Valentina is tied up,” she continued, notablynotintroducing herself as Valentina’s successor, which annoyed him. “She told me you usually have a room set aside for her. Perhaps you could direct me to it and I’ll keep myself out of the way?”

“No.” Gio firmed his hold on her arm. “Let me see him so I know what I’m dealing with. Then you and I have things to discuss.”

He might have dropped everything to come straight here, but he had also dropped a proverbial bomb on the New York office by sending Valentina there. He’d descended into a bleak place on receiving this difficult news about his grandfather. His mind had become fully occupied by the ways he’d have to reassemble his life if it shattered.

The demands of his position waited for no one, though. Molly had been fielding calls the whole flight, rising to the challenge, he had dimly noted with satisfaction. She maintained an air of smooth aplomb, calming the most hysterical voices while keeping a force field of untouchability around him, providing him the space and privacy to process whatever was about to happen with his grandfather.

She was also being ridiculously accommodating, murmuring things like “If that’s what you prefer.” She slid her hand into his, as though he was a damn child needing a sense of security.

He knew better. There was no such thing as “security,” but he accepted the interlacing of her fingers. There was a sick knot in his gut that grew bigger and thornier as he drew her up the wide staircase and along the black-and-white checkerboard tiles of the upper hall.

“Gio?” Her voice was small, but it was the first time she’d ever called him by his first name. That startled him enough to halt him in his tracks.

He tried not to notice his female employees in any way beyond the skills they brought to their positions, but he had always been aware of Molly. She was a natural beauty with a pale peach skin tone and big brown eyes. In the year she’d been working under Valentina—who was an example of the Swiss boarding school she’d attended, full of heiresses and aristocracy—Molly had begun making the most of her own attributes. Her rich brunette hair was in a smooth twist, her makeup had been freshened on the plane and her slacks had a chic flare over her wedged heels.

Lately, she had put on a few pounds. They added a voluptuous softness to her already very feminine figure, making it harder than ever for him to keep his eyes off her.

“You’re hurting my hand.” She wiggled her grip in his.

He swore and released her, then pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing that a terrific pounding sensation had lodged behind his eyes.

“It’s okay. I understand,” she murmured. Now she was petting his sleeve. “This is a difficult thing to face. If you want me to come in with you—”

“I do.” He would swear that he wasn’t a dependent person. He didn’t allow himself to be. He removed people from his sphere before they had the chance to cut him out. It was a lesson he had learned very early. Too early.

Perhaps that was what was at play here. He was irritated that she hadn’t leaped to swear allegiance to him this morning. He was keeping her where he could see her until he understood exactly which way she would jump.

Why? When Valentina had asked to be promoted and leave his day-to-day world, he had made it happen without a single qualm. “Everyone is replaceable,” he had told Molly this morning, and he’d meant it.

This isn’t about Molly, he chided himself. This was about the inevitable loss of his grandfather. Death could be delayed, but not escaped. No one lived forever.

He took a deep breath and looked to the door into his grandfather’s private suite, dreading what awaited him.

Molly’s warm hand tucked itself into his again. She covered the backs of his knuckles and gave him a patient look. How had he never noticed those gold flecks in her dark brown eyes? Her skin looked so downy, he wanted to cup her cheek and run his thumb along her wide bottom lip. Maybe his tongue.

Her lashes flared wider, as though she sensed his carnal thoughts.

He yanked his attention back to the door, away from a weak attempt at self-distraction.

Taking greater care this time, he clasped her hand then quietly opened the door, drawing her through the sitting room to the bedroom, where his grandfather was lying in his wide bed.

Gio had occasionally come in here as a child, but couldn’t remember being here as an adult. It looked the same, though. Ottorino’s bride had redecorated the entire villa when they’d married and Nonno hadn’t changed a thing in the decades since. He’d never remarried and never had more children beyond the son his true love had given him.

The sheers were drawn so the view of the sea was blurred. Muted light fell on his grandfather’s pale, aged face.

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