Page 44 of Hidden Heir With His Housekeeper

Because Mason had resolutely refused to listen to her. She didn’t want to leave Portofino just because he felt responsible for their baby, or so they could have lots more great sex, or so he could offer her an amazing job—after questioning her extensively about her language skills... Because, as annoyingly tempting as all those offers were, she knew they were just bribes to bend her to his will.

It had taken her a while to get her heartbeat under control when he’d turned up at seven to collect her. And it had become harder and harder to say no. Because being in his company had brought back all those unwanted urges.Again.

It was lowering to realise that, despite a five-month separation, and the person she had become in that time, this man still had a powerful hold over her.

She should not have had sex with him. And not just any sex, but frantic, no-holds-barred, mind-blowing orgasmic sex. But during their meal she had managed to forgive herself for jumping him.

Mason Foxx was charismatic, edgy, ruggedly handsome, phenomenally successful and stunningly hot. Why wouldn’t he make her weak at the knees? Even Marta had noticed his charms and she’d been happily married for five years and had two children under four. Plus, Mason was the father of her baby. Maybe it wasn’t just her weak impulse control where he was concerned which was to blame, but also the biological imperative of seeking out the one person who could help protect her child?

Maybe that also explained the clenching sensation in her ribs when he had told her he wanted her to come back to London.

After taking a quick shower and donning her hotel uniform, she headed into the kitchen and began making herself her morning coffee—while resolutely trying not to relive yesterday’s jump-fest again.

She really hadn’t expected him to want to support her. The most she had hoped for was that he wouldn’t hate her, for taking the choice away from him to become a father. But when he had laid out his plan, determined to give her and their baby whatever they needed to thrive, she had felt her wayward emotions getting the better of her again.

Which had made her even more wary of accepting his offer.

She didn’t want to risk falling into her old habit of subjugating her needs to someone else’s wishes. And she couldn’t give up her independence. Not for anything. Or anyone.

The one thing Mason hadn’t said, the one thing he had refused to be drawn on even, was whether or not he wanted to be an active part of this baby’s life after it was born.

She frowned, her thoughts scattering as she noticed the ripples forming in her coffee. A strange rumbling developed. The sound became deafening, the vibrations so violent it made the cupboards rattle and the whole trailer shake.

She rushed to the door of the trailer.

Was this an earthquake? Did they have earthquakes on the Italian Riviera?

She flung the door wide, in time to see an enormous black shape darken the sky above, then glide over her head and drop down towards the terrace below.

What on earth...?

Then she noticed the Foxx Group logo emblazoned on the machine’s side as it landed on the hotel lawn.

She was still staring at the helicopter when Mason marched through the citrus orchard, with an intent look on his face. Her heartbeat shot straight to warp speed, because she remembered that look from yesterday afternoon, when they’d made love in the trailer... And yesterday evening, when he’d walked her back here in the twilight, and she had resisted the powerful urge to ask him in for a nightcap—because she had known exactly where that would lead.

‘You need to pack. We have to leave,’ he said without preamble as he reached her.

‘Why?’ she asked, startled not just by the urgency in his voice but the desire to obey him without question—which could not be good.

‘The press is here,’ he said.

She heard it then, the commotion below them—a cacophony of shouts and pops no longer masked by the chopper’s engines.

‘Pictures of us together at the pizzeria last night are all over the internet,’ he continued. ‘Romano and the staff are having to hold them off until the security guards I’ve hired arrive.’

Shock came first, swiftly followed by guilt. He’d warned her this might happen when she’d first suggested eating at the pizzeria in Rapallo. Why hadn’t she listened to him?

‘I can’t believe they still care,’ she said inanely, struggling to adjust to the situation—and the wrenching realisation that her choices had just narrowed considerably.

She would have to leave. The Grande’s clientele came here looking for a peaceful vacation, not to be besieged by paparazzi and journalists. Plus, she had just made Marta and Fabrizio and everyone else’s jobs impossible.

‘Of course they care,’ he said, sounding surprisingly magnanimous, given the untenable situation she had created for everyone.

He had been right. Hiding out in Portofino indefinitely and pretending her past didn’t exist had never been a viable option for the long term.

‘Society Princess runs off to Italy to become a maid and have a billionaire’s kid alone and in secret,’ Mason added. ‘It makes a great story.’

A story which he would be the villain of, she realised, as the last of her delusions about her situation came crashing down.

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