Page 43 of Hidden Heir With His Housekeeper

‘And I’m really not ready to uproot my life again,’ she added. But when she chewed on her bottom lip in that distracting way she had, two things occurred to him. Not all her cognitive abilities were fully functioning yet either. And she was more anxious and less sure than she seemed.

Both things he could take advantage of, once he’d worked out a coherent strategy. But to do that he needed time to get his brain function fully operational again.

‘Why don’t we take a rain check on this discussion?’ He cupped her chin and planted a kiss on her lips, satisfied when her mouth softened instinctively. ‘I need to grab a shower first,’ he continued, suddenly feeling lighter than he had in a while. Five months, to be precise. ‘And so do you,’ he added, sniffing the air, which was still heavy with the scent of sex. ‘Or that smell is liable to turn me on so much I may have to christen the bed in this place too.’

‘Mason, what the...? That’snotfunny,’ she cried, sounding outraged as she slapped his hand away.

But he could see the stunned arousal turning the pale blue of her irises to black. And he knew she was no more immune to the scent of him on her skin than he was.

‘We can go to the pizza place you mentioned in Rapallo,’ he said, his regenerating brain cells starting to work overtime. ‘And you can pay. What’s it called?’

‘Pizzeria di Rapallo,’ she said, drawing out the words to emphasise her uncertainty. ‘We can go for dinner and discuss this more. But I’m not giving up my life here, Mason,’ she added. ‘Or coming back to London with you. I can’t. And I don’t want to.’

Yeah, you can, and you will.

Because he was going to do everything in his power to convince her.

‘I’ll pick you up at seven,’ he said as he backed out of the trailer, leaving her standing in the doorway looking deliciously rumpled and delightfully confused.

As he headed back to his car through the citrus grove, he dug his phone out and fired off a text to Joe.

Found B Medford in Portofino. Pregnant. Baby mine. @ Pizzeria di Rapallo tonight. Tip off press.

That took care of the stick.

He hated the tabloid press but she had to realise that, sooner or later, they would find her here, and when they did her life would be untenable. He was just speeding up the inevitable.

Now, all he had to do was come up with a persuasive carrot.

She’d mentioned studying languages, and he’d heard her speaking fluent Italian, making him wonder if she were a polymath. Plus, she knew more about the sharp end of hospitality now than most of his executives. Finding her a position in London that would satisfy her desire for independence and utilise her skills, while also giving her a much better salary and career prospects, would make it even harder for her to resist the inevitable.

He dismissed the tiny ripple of guilt as he shoved the phone back into his pocket. He had always been ruthless. It was a skill he’d developed to get over his mother’s desertion and escape his father’s failures without a scratch.

He frowned, climbing into the car. Or at least not any emotional ones.

Of course, that was also why he was unlikely to be a good father in the traditional sense.

But his ruthlessness was how he’d built a billion-pound legacy which his child and Beatrice could benefit from—even if he wasn’t cut out to become a permanent part of their lives.

He began to whistle as he reversed the car down the rutted track, feeling sure of himself again for the first time in five months.

The residual hum of desire pulsed in his lap as he remembered their frantic lovemaking in her trailer.

The fringe benefits of having Beatrice exactly where he wanted her, preferably somewhere less cramped and a lot closer to home, would be a perk they could both enjoy. Until their volatile sexual chemistry had worn off—which would, no doubt, be some time before she gave birth to his child. But when that time came, he planned to have fulfilled all his responsibilities to her and the baby—which would at least make him a better parent than the two useless people who had given birth to him.

CHAPTER TEN

THEFOLLOWINGMORNING, Bea woke feeling tired and unsettled, and still tender from yesterday afternoon’s jump-fest in her kitchen—which had made sleeping all but impossible.

Every time she closed her eyes she could see Mason’s face again, his eyes glittering with arousal and purpose, and feel him thrusting heavily inside her—taking her to places she had only ever been with him.

Her heart bobbed in her chest. And the familiar desire surged again.

She glanced at her alarm clock and groaned, then threw back the sheet. She had half an hour before her shift started.

But as she dragged herself out of bed she recalled their dinner date over pizza at the bustling eatery on the seafront, the tables packed as the sun edged towards the sea on the horizon—and her frustration increased.

Their conversation in Rapallo had been a lot less productive than their lunch date.

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