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The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command
HELEN BIANCHIN


At the Italian billionaire’s bidding… and he’s just about to raise the stakes! Taylor Adamson has just come face to face with the man with whom she must share custody of her orphaned nephew – the infamously arrogant Dante d’Alessandri! And he won’t let Taylor out of his sight! At first Dante sees Taylor as just a nanny. But soon he realises this ripe young beauty could fill another, more pleasurable role – in the bedroom…The ruthless Italian wants to see how far Taylor will go to keep caring for her little nephew… Dante is going to raise the stakes!







‘You love it here.’ A statement, not aquery.



‘It’s where I come to relax.’



‘Do you?’ Taylor asked with a degree of cynicism. ‘Relax? Ever?’



‘The company of a good woman, family, provides a persuasive element.’



The mere thought conjured up an image she didn’t want to contemplate. ‘Marriage? All you’ll need to do is crook a finger to whoever takes your fancy from a long line of willing women.’



‘Indeed?’



Dante watched the fleeting emotions chase across her expressive features for the few seconds it took for her to control them.



There was no artifice or pretence apparent, but a strength of mind he could only admire. It was her determination to fight to the bitter end for what was right for Ben… something he counted on.



She intrigued him…cool, laid-back on the surface, and in control. Except she became a chameleon in his arms, sensually alive in a way that made him want more, so much more than she wanted to give.



Was prepared to give, he amended…and recognised the difference.



‘Make no mistake,’ Dante began with dangerous quietness. ‘It’s you I want as my wife.’


Helen Bianchin was born in New Zealand and travelled to Australia before marrying her Italian-born husband. After three years they moved, returned to New Zealand with their daughter, had two sons, then resettled in Australia. Encouraged by friends to recount anecdotes of her years as a tobacco sharefarmer’s wife living in an Italian community, Helen began setting words on paper, and her first novel was published in 1975. An animal lover, she says her terrier and Persian cat regard her study as as much theirs as hers.




THE ITALIAN’S RUTHLESS MARRIAGE COMMAND


BY

HELEN BIANCHIN




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)



THE ITALIAN’S RUTHLESS MARRIAGE COMMAND


CHAPTER ONE

DO I have to go to kindergarten today?’

Taylor drew the dark-haired little boy close in a loving hug, felt his small arms curve round her neck in a gesture that tugged at her heart…and fiercely vowed to protect him at any cost.

Just three and a half years old, he’d had his world recently shattered beyond belief with the loss of both his parents in a car crash.

Ben d’Alessandri had become part of her life from the moment her sister, Casey, had announced her pregnancy.

Together, they’d shared setting up a nursery, choosing motifs, soft toys and baby clothes…indulgently sanctioned by Casey’s husband, Leon.

It had been Taylor who’d gowned up and added her encouragement to that of Leon as they supported Casey during the birthing process…and afterwards, witnessing Casey and Leon’s shared joy in the miracle of their baby son.

Two sisters, tragically orphaned in their teens, they’d shared a close bond, championing each other in their chosen pursuits…and celebrating the other’s successes. Casey had graduated in law and Taylor, a talented writer, had had her first book accepted for publication a year before Ben’s birth.

‘Why can’t I come with you and see Zio Dante?’

The mere mention of Leon’s brother’s name caused Taylor’s stomach to do a slow backward flip before settling into a state of unease.

‘You’ll see your uncle soon,’ she said gently, meeting his solemn gaze.

‘Promise?’

‘Yes.’ It was a given.

‘Today?’

‘I think so,’ she allowed cautiously. ‘Except we must remember he’s had a long flight from Italy, and he’s going straight to a business meeting.’

Ben nodded his head. ‘With you.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘About me.’

Oh, Lord, honesty to his level of understanding seemed the best way to go.

‘Of course,’ she teased. ‘Aren’t you just the most important person in the universe? A boy for whom your devoted aunt will slay dragons?’

‘And lions.’

Taylor placed her lips into the curve of his neck and blew a soft raspberry kiss, heard him giggle and brushed her lips to his cheek, loving the clean smell of soap, shampoo and freshly laundered clothes.

‘The entire animal kingdom if I had to,’ she assured solemnly and joined in his delighted laughter.

‘Zio Dante, too?’

It was all too easy to picture Dante in hero mode. His tall, broad-shouldered frame exuded male perfection, but it was his strong-boned facial features which drew attention.

Eyes dark as sin and just as dangerous, they alternately promised or threatened much.

The first time she’d met him had been the night of Casey and Leon’s engagement party when he had flown in from New York for the celebration.

All it had taken was a look, and the blood had fizzed in her veins, causing her emotions to go every which way as she fought against the instant electric attraction. Something which stole the breath from her throat and any coherent words from her mind.

He was a man who made her think of the forbidden. And how he could easily circumvent a woman’s objection… especially hers.

Except she’d consciously guarded herself against him, sensing that he knew she did so, for she’d been sure the teasing touch of his mouth to her own had been deliberate at the evening’s end.

The light sweep of his tongue along her lower lip, the faint nibble at its sensitive centre…and how the action caused her body to suffuse with languorous warmth.

‘Taylor?’

Oh, heavens, get a grip.

She made a dashing slash with one hand and summoned a fierce expression as she assured, ‘Zio Dante will slay them all with his mighty sword.’

Ben’s eyes grew round. ‘Does he have a real sword?’

‘No, just a pretend one.’

Taylor rose to her feet with Ben in her arms. ‘Now, young man. It’s kindergarten and lots of fun with the other kids. OK?’

‘I guess.’

She collected her bag, keys, locked the small two-bedroom apartment and together they took the lift down to the underground car park, where her Lexus sedan stood in its parking bay.

It wasn’t difficult to engage Ben’s attention during the short drive and, although he appeared pensive as she checked him in with one of the carers, he brightened almost immediately as two of his friends raced over to greet him.

His smile and wave as she left tugged at her heartstrings, and she hated leaving him. Except it was imperative he maintain a routine after the tragic loss of his parents.

Poor little fellow. She’d guided him through the grief of losing his mummy and daddy, and made him feel as secure as humanly possible in the ensuing weeks as they had both attempted to come to terms with the tragedy.

His tears had flowed freely as she comforted him…while her own were shed in the dark of night without comfort or solace of any kind.

Part of it was concern, Taylor admitted as she eased the Lexus into the flow of traffic heading into the city. When Casey and Leon had requested Taylor and Dante be Ben’s legal guardians, should the worst ever happen, no one had ever thought that this time would come. Now Taylor wondered as to precisely how custody of Ben could be shared by two people who resided at opposite ends of the world.

She’d considered every scenario, agonised and lost sleep over each of them…knowing there was a need for mutual agreement, yet unable to countenance the success of any one solution.

There was the sinking, sickening feeling that Dante would exert unfair pressure, given Ben was a d’Alessandri heir.

A fierce protectiveness strengthened her resolve. If Dante attempted to remove Ben from her care, he’d have to do so over her dead body!



Dante d’Alessandri stepped down onto the tarmac from his Gulfstream jet, thanked the flight attendant, cleared Customs, then exited the terminal and crossed to the black Mercedes parked a few metres away. He acknowledged the chauffeur and slid into the rear seat, resting his head on the soft, buttery leather.

Within minutes the Mercedes eased towards the exit leading from Sydney’s major air terminal.

Gusty showers dashed rain against the windscreen as the vehicle traversed the main arterial road leading into the city.

Fitting, perhaps, given events of the past few weeks wherein he’d dealt with his brother and sister-in-law’s accidental death, accompanied his widowed mother from Florence to Sydney for the funeral, then had personally ensured her safe return to Italy.

Two brothers, Dante reflected, a few years apart in age, close during their formative years, through university, adhering to their father’s dictate they each take a lowly position in the d’Alessandri corporation and work their way up. Something at which they’d both succeeded. It was Dante who had been selected to remain at the Italian head office while Leon was dispatched to the Australian corporate branch in Sydney.

Opposite sides of the world had lessened individual contact, but they’d kept in frequent touch via phone and email.

Now Dante was back in Sydney to settle Leon’s affairs and deal with the legalities involved in sharing custody of his brother’s son, who thankfully had been safely ensconced in kindergarten on the day his parents had been killed.

A child he’d promised to care for…and would, given he was legally bound to do so by the terms of Leon and Casey’s wills.

Five years ago he’d stood as best man at the wedding of his younger brother to Casey Adamson, and upon Ben’s birth a little over a year later he’d agreed to be named together with Casey’s sister, Taylor, as Ben’s legal guardian and godparent.

A protective measure, and one it had been hoped would never need to be put into effect, Dante ruminated with a pensive expression.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled Taylor’s image. Tall, slender, dark blonde hair. A young woman he’d met at Leon’s engagement, partnered at Leon’s wedding, again at Ben’s christening, and shared mutual support with at Leon and Casey’s funeral.

He recalled the unshed tears glistening in her eyes during the service…the moment she faltered, then regained control during the reading of the eulogy. And afterwards as the family stood at the grave site, the cool autumn day and the wind whipping at her hair.

It had been Taylor, immediately following the fateful accident, who’d taken Ben into her care and shielded the child during the difficult weeks that followed.

Something for which he was immensely grateful, given his need to support his mother, tie up urgent business matters and delegate in order to facilitate his return to Sydney.

Dante checked his watch as the chauffeur drew the Mercedes to a halt at the kerb adjacent a tall city building.

It took only minutes to gain access to Leon’s legal firm on a high floor, give his name and have the lawyer’s PA lead him into a large executive office where Leon’s legal representative welcomed him with a customary greeting before indicating the young woman who’d risen from her chair.

‘Taylor,’ Dante acknowledged as he closed the space between them, took her offered hand, then leant in and brushed his lips to her cheek, sensed the faint hitch in her breath…and wondered at it.

Her height was accentuated by stiletto-heeled boots, black fitted trousers and a mid-thigh-length knitted woollen jacket in air-force blue, hitched low over her hips by a wide leather belt.

His brief return to Florence had wrought a regular email exchange regarding their nephew and confirmation of today’s legal consultation.

As sisters, he reflected, Taylor and Casey had shared an affectionate bond, but different personalities.

Casey, so bright and bubbly, with laughing eyes and a wicked sense of humour. Her personal world had been filled with her husband and son. Whereas Taylor adopted a reserved, almost wary mask he found intriguing.

Yet he’d seen it slip for a brief moment when Casey had said her vows to Leon during their wedding ceremony. Later at Ben’s christening, when Taylor had pledged to care for her nephew as his godmother…and recently at Casey and Leon’s funeral service.

It was a vulnerability she’d endeavoured to hide…one which fascinated him on a fundamental level.

A woman it would give a man pleasure to tame…if only to peel back the various layers of her reserve and discover what lay in her heart. Possibly her soul.

A challenge, but not one he’d been inclined to pursue during his infrequent stopovers.

‘Dante.’

Her voice held polite warmth, and he had the uncanny feeling she’d read his mind…something he seriously doubted.

As CEO and president of the d’Alessandri corporation, he’d gained a serious reputation for cool-headed, cutthroat negotiation…an essential requisite for wheeling and dealing in multinational commercial real estate on an annual multi-billion-dollar scale, with a personal fortune placing him among Europe’s wealthy echelon.

Such a level of success hadn’t been achieved without an ability to guard whatever strategy he chose to employ.

The lawyer indicated one of three comfortable chairs as he resumed his position behind the large desk. ‘Please take a seat.’ He pulled a file forward and opened it. ‘The custody issue regarding Leon and Casey’s son needs to be addressed. I assume you’ve each given it some thought?’

‘Ben is comfortable living with me,’ Taylor offered quietly. ‘I work from home, so there are no issues with child care. I know Casey would have been happy for me to take primary responsibility.’

‘I propose Ben should make his home with me in Italy—’ Dante paused fractionally and offered Taylor a considering look ‘—where he can be educated and groomed to eventually take his place in the corporation my late father founded. Ben is a d’Alessandri heir, the first in his generation. I have no doubt Leon would want his son to follow in his family’s footsteps.’

Taylor’s stomach plummeted at the unvoiced implication, and her eyes darkened with dismay. ‘That can’t be considered an option.’

Was that her voice? It sounded slightly strangled, even to her own ears. ‘Ben is still struggling to comprehend the loss of his parents. He needs familiar surroundings and a regular routine. Not,’ she added with increasing concern, ‘be faced with adjusting to a strange country, people he doesn’t know and a language he doesn’t understand. It was never Casey’s intention Ben live anywhere other than Sydney.’

‘Nor, I imagine,’ Dante drawled, ‘was it Leon and Casey’s desire to leave this earth at such a young age.’ His eyes speared her own. ‘But fate has chosen otherwise.’

She subjected him to an encompassing appraisal, noting his broad-boned facial features, startling dark eyes, the generous mouth…the wide shoulders beneath superb tailoring, his tall, lithe frame whose height surpassed her own by several inches.

He looked precisely the man he’d become…powerful, ruthless. Lethal. Not someone with whom to tangle.

Yet she’d seen him in a lighter mood, caught his smile, witnessed his warmth with Casey…the affectionate camaraderie he’d shared with Leon. His gentleness with Ben.

There had been a time when she’d felt at ease in his company and wondered if something more might develop between them, had it not been for an assault by an intruder a year after Ben’s birth that had left her both physically and emotionally scarred…something which resulted in her avoiding a relationship with any man, especially a man as vital as Dante.

‘You travel extensively,’ Taylor pursued. ‘How can you tuck him into bed each night and read him a bedtime story,’ she protested, ‘or be there to listen to his dreams and fears, hug him when he’s sad and share his laughter?’ She was on a roll, passionate in her concern and despairing of finding a solution to the adequate care of her dearly loved nephew.

‘An alternative is for Ben to reside several months with you,’ Dante offered, ‘followed by equal time with me.’

The green flecks in her hazel eyes became more evident, and reminded Dante of the lush green foliage protecting the succulent grapes ripening in his Tuscan vineyard.

‘How will uprooting him every few months provide him with any stability?’ Taylor queried with agonised disbelief. ‘He’s just a little boy.’

‘Who will receive the devoted adoration of his grandmother, and the care of a highly qualified nanny,’ Dante informed with calm patience, and saw the pulse at the base of her throat quicken in agitation. ‘I’m prepared to offer you open visitation rights, together with an allexpenses-paid trip to Florence,’ he continued, ‘including accommodation while Ben is in my care, to ensure your satisfaction he is happily ensconced in his new environment.’

Dante’s voice held a subtle silkiness which she appeared to ignore, and he wondered if she knew the full extent of his power.

He regarded her carefully. ‘Consideration for Ben’s education must be addressed.’ He paused fractionally, then offered, ‘There is the option of a reputable boarding school.’

‘No,’ Taylor refuted swiftly.

There was a tense silence, one the lawyer attempted to breach with a placating spread of his hands, which Dante chose to ignore as Taylor fixed him with an appealing look.

‘Is it of no consequence that I’ve had constant contact with Ben since he was born, and love him as much as if he were my own?’

Dante leant back in his chair and steepled his fingers. ‘If this is so, I take it you’re prepared to do anything to ensure his comfort, his happiness?’

He reminded her of a jungle cat, all lithe power and the ever-present threat of the moment he would strike.

‘Yes,’ she said without hesitation.

Dante subjected her to an unwavering scrutiny. ‘Given neither of us will agree to sole custody with open visitation rights, do you have a sensible suggestion to offer?’

Hadn’t she worried herself sick trying to come up with sensible…and failed miserably?

‘Whatever decision we make has to benefit Ben.’

‘On that we agree,’ Dante revealed quietly as he shifted his attention to the lawyer. ‘The wills cite shared custody. Is this correct?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘And is it not true that equal and share, in legal terminology, do not have the same meaning?’

A faint frown creased the lawyer’s forehead. ‘Not precisely.’

‘In which case, it could be argued as a literal interpretation?’ Dante sensed the sudden stillness in Taylor’s body language.

‘Where are you going with this?’

He shifted his attention and caught the edge of suspicion sharpening her eyes. ‘We’ve explored the available options, and failed to agree on any one of them.’ He didn’t give her time to offer so much as a word as he pursued, ‘I propose we share custody of Ben in the same home. This way he will have the best of care and we will both be a constant in his life.’

Taylor’s lips parted, then closed again. ‘That’s the most ridiculous suggestion I’ve ever heard,’ she said shakily. ‘Even if it were viable, my apartment is too small to accommodate you.’

His mouth curved into a faint smile, and was totally at variance with the stillness evident in his dark, almost black eyes.

‘As it happens I have a property available for immediate occupancy at Watson’s Bay,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘It’s a double-storeyed residence with seven bedrooms situated on an upper level divided into two separate wings. Two individual offices, a home gym, indoor pool. There’s also separate accommodation for a live-in housekeeper.’ He spared her a conciliatory look. ‘Sharing the same house shouldn’t prove too difficult. You’ll have primary care of Ben when I’m overseas on business, and from your perspective very little will change.’

You think? She could only look at him in a state of speechlessness.

‘It negates each of your objections,’ Dante informed silkily. ‘Ben remains in Sydney in your care for seventy-five per cent of the time, with all of the advantages I’m able to provide.’

The lawyer shifted his attention to Taylor. ‘Mr d’Alessandri’s suggestion is exceedingly generous.’

Why did she have the unshakable feeling she’d been very cleverly manipulated by a master strategist?

Taylor cast Dante a dazed look, torn by numerous emotions, none of which resembled calm. ‘I’ll need to think about it.’

She turned to the lawyer, thanked him, then she stood and moved towards the door.

Dante reached it before she did, and she was powerless to prevent the feathery sensation scudding down her spine as he accompanied her to the bank of lifts.

‘I’d like to see my nephew as soon as possible.’

She’d expected the request. ‘Ben is in kindergarten today,’ she relayed evenly.

‘From where you’re due to collect him when?’

‘Three o’clock,’ Taylor revealed with deceptive calm.

The lift arrived and she was supremely conscious of his presence in the confined space. Her eyes were level with the generous curve of his mouth, and the faint exclusive tones of his cologne teased her senses.

She’d felt relaxed in Leon’s presence, whereas Dante exuded a brooding sensuality that had always threatened her peace of mind.

Like you care? a tiny voice prompted. You have every reason to distrust men, remember?

A tiny shiver slid down her spine. As if she could ever forget.

She didn’t recall holding her breath during the lift’s descent, although she must have done so unconsciously, for she measured its release as she stepped into the foyer.

‘Have you eaten?’

The question came out of left field, and she looked at him in startled surprise. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘We need to formulate arrangements regarding Ben’s welfare.’

She opened her mouth to protest, only to have him continue smoothly, ‘Why not share a meal while we do so?’

‘It doesn’t have to encompass lunch.’

Dante paused as they reached the pavement. ‘You’d prefer we adjourn to your apartment?’

No. The negation was a silent scream inside her head, and it took a few seemingly long seconds to summon her voice to project a polite veneer. ‘There are a few cafеs close by,’ she acquiesced evenly, and missed the slight hardening in his eyes. ‘Perhaps a sandwich and coffee?’

He led her to a restaurant, and ignored her protest as the ma?tre d’ seated them.

‘I dislike—’

‘Not having total control?’ Dante intercepted with deceptive mildness, and caught the way her eyes flared green.

‘It’s something at which you appear to excel,’ Taylor said, tongue firmly in cheek.

He accepted the wine list, and requested her preference.

‘Iced water is fine.’ Her tolerance level was diminishing by the second. Any minute soon she’d be tempted to toss the contents of her glass in his face.

‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ he said quietly, as if again reading her mind, and speared her with a look that promised retribution.

She collected her bag and stood, only to stifle an audible gasp as his hand closed over her wrist.

‘Sit. Please,’ he added.

She glared at him. ‘Give me one reason why I should.’

‘Ben.’

The little boy’s image filled her mind, his solemn saddened eyes…and knew she’d give anything to provide a happy, healthy life for him. ‘It will never work.’

‘Lunch?’

Taylor gave him an exasperated look. ‘Sharing the same house.’

‘As far as Ben is concerned, given all your reasons, it’s the best option.’

She opened her mouth, then closed it again as the waiter appeared to take their order.

Dammit, she hadn’t even looked at the menu, let alone made a selection.

‘Taylor?’

She met the silent challenge in his gaze, hesitated, then ordered a Caesar salad, and waited until they were alone before venturing, ‘You employ unfair tactics.’ She lifted the goblet of iced water, took a sip, then carefully replaced it.

To his credit he didn’t attempt to misunderstand. ‘Had it been my initial suggestion, you would have immediately dismissed it out of hand.’

‘I have yet to agree,’ she ventured, and held his measured look.

‘Common sense ensures you will.’

Her eyes sharpened. ‘And if I don’t?’

Dante took his time before answering, ‘Then you leave me no option but to lodge an application to formally adopt Ben.’


CHAPTER TWO

SHOCK dilated Taylor’s eyes, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

‘You can’t do that,’ she managed shakily. ‘Such an action would contravene Leon and Casey’s will.’

Dante’s features held a compelling quality, and a chill shiver feathered the length of her spine.

‘Leon’s lawyer is witness to you declining each solution I presented.’ His voice held a silky softness that was totally lacking in arrogance, yet there was a dangerous quality evident beneath the surface. ‘Unless you choose to reverse your decision, you leave me little option but to take the matter to court.’

She didn’t trust herself to speak. At the very least she wanted to hit him, and if a mere look could kill he’d be dead.

‘Such a move would involve time and a large amount of money,’ Dante enlightened smoothly.

She owned her apartment, her car, and was debt-free, thanks to the popularity of her work. But when it came to wealth, Dante d’Alessandri won hands down.

‘Do you particularly want to go that route?’ he pursued silkily. ‘Subject Ben to unwarranted stress and trauma? Fund exhaustive legal fees?’ He waited a beat. ‘What will it achieve, other than an exercise in futility?’

‘Except at the end of the day you win.’ She attempted to keep the faint bitterness out of her voice, and was unsure she succeeded.

His eyes remained steady, inviolate. ‘This is about Ben,’ he reminded quietly. ‘And what’s best for him.’

It didn’t help that he was right. Or that she viewed his threatened alternative of adoption as totally unconscionable.

There was no way she’d allow that to happen, although she refused to give in easily without protest.

The waiter delivered their meal, and Taylor looked at the salad, contemplated her plate and wondered if she’d be able to eat so much as a morsel.

‘I don’t want to share a house with you.’ And if you comment I’m the first woman to say that, I’ll hit you.

He looked at her carefully, caught the fast-beating pulse at the base of her throat, and his eyes narrowed fractionally.

‘There’s a boyfriend on the scene who will object?’

A fleeting darkness clouded her eyes, then it was gone. ‘No.’ Betrayed trust ensured true friends were limited to a few, and acquaintances kept at a distance.

Interpreting body language and subtle nuances in the human voice was an art in which he excelled…an invaluable asset in the cut and thrust of international business dealings.

It took, Dante mused, an accomplished actress trained to submerge her own personality in order to assume that of the character she was contracted to play.

And somehow he doubted Taylor was playing a part. Yet he’d stake his reputation on there being something responsible for her chosen fa?ade…even allowing for recent grief, and Ben’s welfare.

‘And you, Dante? Won’t your current mistress protest at your proposed live-in arrangement with another woman?’

‘No.’

Just…no?

‘Eat,’ Dante bade and he began doing justice to the food on his plate.

The salad looked delicious…although her nerves were stretched too taut to appreciate the taste of food.

She declined dessert and settled for coffee, sweet, black and strong, aware it was also Dante’s choice, and when the waiter presented the bill she reached for her wallet…only to have Dante refuse her offer to pay her share.

‘There’s enough time to check out the house before we collect Ben.’

House? We? ‘I don’t think—’

‘We have an hour and a half,’ he enlightened as he ushered her out onto the pavement. All it took was a brief conversation via his mobile phone, and within minutes a black Mercedes slid in to the kerb.

Dante opened a door, ushered her into the rear seat, then he crossed round the vehicle and slipped in beside her, introduced his driver, Gianni, with friendly ease. Given Dante’s reputed ruthlessness in the business arena, she assumed he’d appear businesslike with his staff, and she sat in silence as he issued instructions to an address in Watson’s Bay, one of Sydney’s luxurious suburbs offering widespread panoramic harbour views.

House was a misnomer. Mansion seemed a more adequate description, Taylor conceded as the Mercedes swept through high, ornate remotely operated steel gates, circled a wide driveway and eased to a halt beneath a wide porte-coch?re protecting broad double entrance doors of steel-strutted solid patterned wood.

Double-storeyed, the building resembled a Tuscan villa, with a cream and terra-cotta tiled roof, cream stucco exterior walls and, she saw when she entered the large lobby, cream marble floor tiles, beautiful rugs and solid mahogany furniture.

A middle-aged woman came forward to greet them. Dante introduced her as Anna, whose husband, Claude, maintained the grounds.

There were oil paintings gracing the walls, an elegant, sweeping double staircase, and a sparkling crystal chandelier hung suspended from a tall ceiling.

Taylor was supremely conscious of Dante’s close proximity as he showed her through the house.

The subtle tones of his cologne teased her senses, and, although he made no attempt at physical contact, she disliked the prickle of awareness stealing through her body.

She covered it well, making appropriate comments as they moved through the ground-level rooms, all of which were spacious, beautifully furnished, before moving to the upper level, which did, as Dante had indicated, contain two distinct wings, each containing guest suites with adjoining en suites. There was also a media room, a family lounge and two home offices.

It was, Taylor had to concede, a beautiful home, complemented by landscaped grounds, a large swimming pool with entry from the side of the house and completely enclosed with a solar-tinted glass roof and glass-panelled external walls.

There was no valid reason why Dante’s suggested living arrangement couldn’t work…with certain iron-clad provisos.

‘Any reservations you’d care to voice?’ Dante queried as they began descending the staircase, and she met his dark, probing look with equanimity.

‘A few.’

‘Then let’s hear them.’

She paused on one step and turned towards him, aware he copied her action.

‘I want to make it very clear Ben is the only reason I’ll accept your suggestion.’

‘So noted.’

‘The live-in arrangement is strictly business,’ she offered, and lifted a hand to cover the tell-tale thud at the base of her throat, ‘with all that statement implies.’

Dante looked at her for a long moment, aware she held his gaze with determined resolve, almost silently daring him to be the first to glance away.

Yet beneath the resolve he sensed unaccustomed wariness and a degree of fragility. Coupled with innate reserve, it was an interesting mix.

‘You have nothing to fear from me,’ he drawled, and saw a delicate pink tinge her cheeks an instant before she turned away and began stepping quickly down the stairs.

Dante checked his watch, alerted Gianni, then he followed Taylor down into the lobby and led the way to the waiting Mercedes.

It was a relatively trouble-free run from Vaucluse to Double Bay, and Dante turned slightly towards her as the car slid into a parking bay adjacent the kindergarten. ‘I’ll come with you.’

She could hardly refuse without sounding churlish, and she managed a polite response. ‘Ben will be pleased to see you.’

Dante’s presence drew attention as they crossed towards the kindergarten entrance, his tall, broad, impeccably tailored frame a stand-out from the few males gathered waiting to collect children.

Within minutes the outer door opened, and a carer took up position to ensure each child was collected by their designated parent or grandparent.

Taylor effected an introduction, drew attention to the fact she’d previously noted Dante as Ben’s legal guardian, whereupon relevant details were checked on the call-sheet, together with Dante’s mobile-phone number.

‘Please alter the residential address,’ Dante informed, and gave it. ‘Effective from today,’ he added smoothly.

Excuse me?

‘Isn’t this a little precipitate?’ she said quietly as they moved aside, and incurred his dark gaze.

‘There’s no reason to delay settling Ben into his new home.’

Taylor sent him a spearing look. ‘Tomorrow,’ she stated firmly. ‘It will allow him to become accustomed to the idea.’

Minutes later Ben was summoned by the carer, whereupon he moved quickly to the entrance, leant into her hug, then a smile broadened his mouth as he caught sight of Dante.

Without a word he raised his arms as Dante lifted him high against his chest and held him close.

‘Hello, Ben.’

‘Zio. You came. Taylor said you would.’ Ben looked at him solemnly. ‘Are you going to stay?’

‘Yes. Most of the time,’ Dante assured as he crossed the parking area.

‘Cool.’

One word, conveying much, and Taylor felt her heart melt a little…as it had so often these past few weeks, when all she wanted to do was hug him close and will back his laughter and joy of life.

Time. It will just take time, she assured silently as they reached the Mercedes, and she frowned with sudden anxiety. ‘Ben’s booster seat is in my car.’

Dante spared her a glance. ‘I had Gianni organise one this morning.’ He opened the rear door, saw Ben safely buckled in as she slid in beside her nephew, while Dante took the adjacent seat.

She knew she should credit Dante with forethought, but he was moving too fast, taking control…doubtless a power trait he’d skilfully honed as head of the d’Alessandri corporation.

Laudable, but Ben wasn’t a corporate commodity, and she intended to relay her viewpoint at the soonest possible moment.

A strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck caused her to spare a glance in Dante’s direction, and the breath stopped in her throat as she met his musing gaze.

He couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking, surely? Oh, for heaven’s sake…it hardly mattered if he did.

Taylor offered Gianni directions to her apartment, and she felt a sense of relief when the car slid to a halt at the kerb outside what had once been a stately double-storeyed villa which developers had converted into four apartments.

‘Thanks for lunch,’ she acknowledged quietly as Dante withdrew Ben and set him onto his feet on the pavement.

Ben’s hand curled into his uncle’s much larger one as he looked up at her. ‘Can Zio come up and see my bike?’

How could she refuse? ‘Of course. If he’d like to.’ She almost qualified it with ‘if he isn’t too busy’, and stilled the words before they could find voice.

Did Dante sense her reluctance? Perhaps, although she told herself his thought process was of little interest.

Her apartment was one of two situated on the upper floor, reached by a wide central staircase, and she unlocked the door, disarmed the alarm system, then indicated the hallway. ‘Would you like coffee?’

‘Thanks, that would be nice.’ He smiled down at Ben’s anxious features. ‘Let’s go see your bike, shall we?’

The apartment was relatively spacious and pleasantly furnished. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, the usual utilities. Feminine, but functional, he noted as Ben led him into a room where floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined two walls. A home office, sans a desk, computer or the usual electronic equipment.

Instead stuffed toys lined the bed, and there were several toy cars and trucks neatly parked together on the floor. A few childish prints were attached to the wall above the bed, together with an enlarged framed photo taken in happier times featuring Casey, Leon, Ben as a young babe and Taylor.

Dante’s gaze lingered, settled briefly on Taylor’s features, noting her happy smile, the laughing eyes…as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

‘This is my bike.’

Dante hunkered down and ran a careful hand over the gleaming paint, the seat, and commented on its racy three-wheeler design.

‘Daddy bought it for me, before—’ He paused, bit his lip, then reiterated with extreme care, ‘Before.’

Dante suddenly felt a fierce need to draw Ben close and assure him everything would be fine. Instead, he rubbed a gentle palm over Ben’s shoulder, kept it there for a moment, then offered warmly, ‘Maybe we can take it to a park one day soon and you can show me how well you can ride.’

Dark brown eyes regarded him solemnly. ‘Can Taylor come too?’

‘Of course.’

A tentative smile widened his mouth. ‘Are you going to stay with us?’

‘Would you like that?’

‘You can have my bed.’

Such an earnest offer, and one that pulled at something deep within. This was Leon’s son, his godson. A child who needed every reassurance he was safe, secure and loved.

‘That’s very kind,’ Dante said gently. ‘Perhaps we should run it by Taylor?’ It would allow her the opportunity to reveal their imminent move to Watson’s Bay.

Which it did, and he silently applauded her explanation, added his own together with the benefits of sharing a larger residence.

They kept it simple, logical…and received Ben’s slow nod of acceptance, pursued by a worried frown. ‘Will I still go to the same kindergarten?’

In a time of complete change, it was important to retain a constant. ‘Yes.’ Dante’s assurance echoed that of Taylor’s, and Ben’s expression cleared.

‘And can Sooty come, too?’

Dante raised an eyebrow in silent query, and Taylor quickly explained, ‘Sooty is a cat.’

‘Of course.’

Taylor opted for informality, choosing to serve coffee at the dining-room table, where Ben sat enjoying his glass of milk and afternoon snack.

Dante’s presence had an unsettling effect…one she endeavoured to overcome as she focused on Ben, waiting for the moment Dante would leave.

Except he seemed in no hurry, and she felt her nerves stretch increasingly taut.

Almost as if he knew, he made a play of checking his watch. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

She caught the faint gleam of amusement as he rose to his feet, and for a brief moment her eyes flared in silent response as he placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘And Taylor.’

Dante’s smile held affection. ‘Yes. Taylor, too.’

It wasn’t difficult to summon a degree of warmth as she preceded him to the door, and she determinedly held his gaze for the few seemingly long seconds before he passed into the small lobby and descended the stairs to the main entrance.

There was a sense of relief as she secured the lock, then she summoned Ben for his routine of bath followed by dinner. Then she read him a bedtime story…extended by a host of inevitable questions which she managed to answer with the assurance he needed.

It was only later as Ben slept that she contemplated her own need for reassurance.

As from tomorrow she’d be living with an inimitable man and, despite the large house, there would be far more togetherness than she felt comfortable with.

So get used to it.

At least on one issue they each stood firm…taking care of Ben. That had to be a good thing.

Dante made it sound so…simple. A large mansion, separate living wings, he’d be overseas more often than he’d be at home.

Why, they’d probably rarely see each other!


CHAPTER THREE

ATTENDING to the packing of both Ben’s and her own belongings involved more than simply transferring a number of boxes in one car. She needed her reference and research books for her current work in progress, laptop, printer, fax, as well as several notebooks, disks.

Then there were personal items, such as her and Ben’s clothing. It was just as well Dante had offered Claude’s services and a four-wheel drive, for it took three trips before Taylor closed up and secured her apartment, then followed Claude in her Lexus.

It was way too late to have second thoughts as she entered Dante’s mansion and attempted to accept this was now her home for the foreseeable future.

The home itself didn’t faze her…but its owner did. A telling admission, and one she tried hard to dismiss. Without success.

For the umpteenth time she wondered at her sanity, only to once again temporarily banish her reservations by reaffirming the sharing of Dante’s home was the best option for Ben.

And the best for Ben was what Casey would have wanted.

Taylor offered Claude a genuine smile and thanked him for his help as she followed him upstairs, where Anna, bless her, had supervised the boxes into each guest suite.

Together they completed Ben’s suite, involving him in the process by suggesting he display his toys, before setting up her home office. Lastly, her own suite, which she assured she’d tend to herself.

All told, the moving and unpacking process took most of the day, and there was time for a quick shower, a change of clothes before she readied Ben for dinner.

Please let it just be the two of us, Taylor bade silently as she took Ben’s hand and they made their way downstairs to the dining room. The thought of sharing a meal and conversation with Dante accelerated her nervous tension a few levels, and she offered up a silent appeal to the deity both she and Ben might eat alone.

Except the appeal went unanswered, for Dante was there as they entered the room, standing tall, without his usual attire of jacket and tie, his shirtsleeves rolled to halfway on his forearms, an easy smile softening the hard planes of his face as he moved forward with the grace of a jungle cat.

‘I believe you’ve settled in?’ The query was directed to include both of them, and Taylor inclined her head, while Ben offered solemnly,

‘We put all my toys out. And Taylor’s room is close to mine. Sooty has her bed and kitty litter in my bathroom.’

She watched as Dante lifted Ben and rested him into the crook of his arm.

‘Sooty stays with me at night.’ Ben spared Dante an anxious look. ‘Taylor lets her sleep on my bed.’

Please don’t say no, Taylor begged silently.

‘I used to have a cat who slept on my bed when I was young,’ Dante confided, and Ben’s eyes widened.

‘You did? What colour was your cat? Sooty’s black. She has a white patch on her nose.’



‘I had Baci, a tortoiseshell.’

‘Baci means kisses,’ Ben relayed importantly, and Dante smiled in acknowledgment.

‘Yes, it does.’

An innocuous remark, Taylor conceded…so why did it suddenly send awareness spiralling through her body?

Because she was tired, fraught and feeling way out of her depth. Why, she agonised silently, when she had nothing to fear from the man whose home she occupied?

A good night’s sleep was all she needed. A day or two to accept concrete evidence of her new reality.

At that moment Anna appeared bearing a tray containing a steaming casserole and a dish of rice, together with a platter of assorted vegetables.

Taylor took the chair Dante indicated and seated Ben next to her, while he took the chair opposite.

Did he sense her nervousness? She hoped not. Yet she found it impossible to relax, and she ate mechanically. At the end of the meal she selected fresh fruit in lieu of dessert, and requested tea instead of coffee.

In a way it was a relief when the meal concluded, and Ben provided the perfect reason to escape.

‘Can I please go upstairs and check Sooty? I think she might be lonely.’

‘Of course. I’ll come with you,’ Taylor said quickly, and caught the faint amusement evident in Dante’s dark gaze.

‘Perhaps we could go together,’ he suggested. ‘You can show me your toys.’

Ben didn’t hesitate, and for the ensuing hour man and boy communed on the merits of almost every wheeled vehicle currently on offer…including planes, trains and automobiles. For so young a boy, Ben could reel off a number of brand names…his favourite being a red Ferrari. Something he fervently hoped to own one day. Together with a motorbike.

Every boy’s dream, and he happily didn’t protest when she declared it was time for bed.

‘Taylor reads me a story every night.’ He looked at his uncle. ‘Will you stay and read me one, too? Please, Zio Dante.’

‘Of course, if you’d like me to.’

Something Dante appeared only too willing to do…whenever he was home, she added silently, which hopefully wouldn’t be too often.

A prediction which didn’t hold true, for he shared breakfast with them the next morning, and sat down to dinner each evening. Ben’s bedtime story became a nightly event, and Friday evening Dante added to Ben’s wish-list by suggesting they visit a dog breeder at the weekend in order to choose a puppy.

Not, praise heaven, Taylor begged silently, something with the potential to grow too big.

‘A Llasa Apso,’ Dante revealed, sparing her a musing glance.

Did he read minds? Or were her thoughts merely too easy to interpret?

‘They’re a small breed, and in this instance they’re already trained.’ He reached into his shirt pocket, withdrew a folded coloured print and showed it to Ben. ‘What do you think?’

Taylor saw Ben’s expression change into instant love, and the look he cast Dante held a degree of reverent awe. ‘Can I really have one?’

‘Yes, and we can bring it home.’

‘You’re the best.’ Ben’s eyes shone as he lifted his arms and gave Dante a hug. ‘Thank you.’

Dante returned the embrace and brushed his lips to his nephew’s forehead. ‘Time to go to sleep, hmm? Tomorrow will be a big day.’

Dante stood aside as Taylor tucked in the covers and kissed Ben goodnight before preceding Dante from the room.

‘That’s kind of you,’ she said quietly. ‘Leon had promised Ben a puppy for his birthday.’

He indicated the stairs and they began descending to the lower floor.

‘You think I’m attempting to buy Ben’s affection?’

She shot him a startled look. ‘A puppy is a perfect gift. Casey didn’t feel Ben should grow up thinking he could have anything he wants.’

He indicated the library, followed her in, then gestured towards a comfortable leather chair.

‘I fly out to New York on Monday for a few days, possibly longer,’ he revealed as he crossed to lean a hip against the antique desk. ‘You can contact me via my cellphone. You have the number.’

‘I’m sure it won’t be necessary.’

No, it probably wouldn’t. She was efficient, capable and considered Ben her main priority.

He slanted an eyebrow and his mouth curved in to form a light smile. ‘You could always call and say hello.’

‘I wouldn’t think of disturbing you.’

Did she have any idea the pulse at the base of her throat quickened in beat whenever she was in his presence?

Her controlled persona was a fa?ade…and he wondered what lay beneath it.

He’d given her no reason to be wary of him, yet she wasn’t comfortable…and he was sufficiently intrigued to discover why.

In time.

‘I’ll set up a computer here, with a web-cam. It’ll enable Ben to have daily visual contact with me.’



He had the sudden urge to ruffle her composure, see those beautiful eyes dilate and watch the pulse at the base of her throat thud into a quickened beat.

Her reaction intrigued him…as she did. So outwardly practical. Laudable, but it was what lay beneath that held his interest. Had done so for quite some time. Yet distance and the pressure of business worked against him. Now, given unforeseen circumstance, he had all the time in the world.

‘If that’s all you wanted,’ Taylor offered as she rose to her feet, ‘I’ll say goodnight…and thank you.’

His eyes became faintly hooded, and a slow smile curved his generous mouth. ‘Thank me for what, precisely?’

‘Making the effort to ensure the transition is as easy as possible for Ben.’

He inclined his head. ‘And you, Taylor?’ he pursued softly. ‘Has the transition into my home, my life, been easy for you?’

No. She wanted to say he had to know that, for it disturbed her how well he appeared to read her.

‘I’m sure the arrangement will work out well,’ she concurred politely. With that, she moved to the door, opened it and escaped into the wide hallway, uncaring whether Dante followed or not.



The acquisition of a puppy proved a huge success, together with kennel, puppy toys, bowls and various trappings a well-cared-for puppy should have. Rosie, for the Llasa Apso Ben chose was female, lapped up all the loving attention Ben offered, and returned it in kind. Dante’s absence in New York provided Taylor with a welcome break from his presence, although his image was there every evening at a prearranged time via the computer webcam as he chatted to Ben.



Taylor was careful to keep her conversation to a minimum, offering a polite greeting on connection, followed by an equally polite ‘goodnight’ prior to deactivating the web-cam.

Did he guess at her apparent reluctance to participate in more than a perfunctory sentence or two? Undoubtedly. For she glimpsed the slight curve at the edge of his mouth, the faint musing gleam in his dark eyes.

It was Ben who relayed a birthday invitation for Sunday.

‘My friend Tamryn is having a party because she is going to be four. Taylor is taking me, and I wondered if you could come, too. Please, Zio. Will you be home in time?’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Dante assured. ‘Taylor can give me the details tomorrow evening.’

‘Cool.’

Sunday provided sunshine and crisp temperatures, and Ben’s excitement was engaging as the time to leave for the party drew close.

‘Everyone from kindy is going to be at Tamryn’s house.’

Taylor dropped a kiss on the top of his head. ‘You’ll have lots of fun.’

His eyes shone with anticipation. ‘Tamryn says there’s going to be a clown, and rides, and a huge big rubber house to play in.’ He barely paused for breath. ‘Can we go now?’

‘Sure we can.’ She picked up the brightly wrapped present with its fun card. ‘Shall we say goodbye to Anna first?’

‘And Claude,’ Ben added. ‘He’s in the garden.’

It didn’t take long, and the adherence to good manners brought forth a smile as both Anna and her husband bade Ben goodbye and hoped he enjoyed the party.



The invitation stated two o’clock, and Taylor drew the car into the kerb outside a large, stately home in suburban Woollahra.

A security guard manned the gate, checking invitations as guests arrived and offering directions to the rear of the grounds, where the party was set up.

‘There’s Tamryn.’

Taylor felt the sudden tightening of Ben’s hand within her own, and she gave his a reassuring squeeze as they drew close to a group of excited children all dressed in their finest, and mingling parents.

‘You’re going to stay, aren’t you?’

‘Hey,’ she chided gently, ‘you think I’m going to miss out on all the fun?’

And it was fun; the professional planning ensured there was spontaneity in the children’s games, with thirty-odd pre-schoolers enjoying the time of their lives. Any minor squabble was intercepted, the perpetrator distracted, and eventually it was time for food, drink…and most importantly, the cake.

It was easy to smile, to laugh a little at so many small faces glowing with anticipation as four candles were ceremoniously lit.

A sudden prickle of awareness slid up Taylor’s spine and settled at her nape…an instinctive alert she endeavoured to ignore without much success.

She shifted her gaze slightly and caught sight of the tall, broad-shouldered male figure crossing the grounds towards the host, hostess and their grouped guests.

Dante. Attired in dark tailored trousers, a white shirt open at the neck, worn with a black butter-soft leather jacket.

It wasn’t so much his attire that drew attention but the man himself, for there was an intrinsic quality she chose not to define…just aware of an instinctive need to build her defensive barriers high in self-protection.

Survival…her own. Against a man whose sensual potency threatened to wreck her equilibrium. Something she vowed no man would ever be permitted to do again.

Why now, when she’d reached a relatively relaxed state of mind? Settled, she added silently, into a life of relative contentment.

Yet in one fatal second her world had changed, flung into an orbit she struggled to control.

Not Ben…never Ben.

Dante.

A man who disturbed her more than she was prepared to admit. Had from the moment she first saw him. Friendly, warm…with a reputation for preferring sophisticated women who knew the score.

It wasn’t her nature to flirt. Nor did she favour casual sex, possibly because there had been no one for whom she’d been tempted to discard her moral beliefs.

Besides, Dante resided abroad and travelled the world. Any liaison with such a man could only be destined for heartbreak…and she was fiercely determined it wouldn’t be hers.

Later she had reason to enforce that decision a hundredfold.

Yet now he was in her life, occupying her mind, infiltrating her senses, and she struggled against it…wanting only the tranquil life that had once been her own.

‘Taylor.’

She turned slightly and tilted her face a little to meet his easy smile. He had the advantage of height, marked by her choice of flat shoes for the afternoon.

‘Hi.’

There was strength apparent beneath the casual elegance of his clothes. A compelling quality that stood him apart from other men. Power, she determined, and an innate sense of control. Mesh it with latent sexuality, and the result drew women’s attention like bees to a honeypot.

Hadn’t she witnessed evidence of it at every opportunity?

‘Ben will be pleased you managed to make it.’

The sparkling laughter he’d glimpsed had faded, replaced by polite friendliness…and he resisted the temptation to cup her cheek, smooth a thumb over her lips, feel them tremble a little beneath his touch.

Almost as if she sensed his intention, her body stiffened, and the edge of his mouth lifted a little with the knowledge she was aware of the electric tension existing between them.

‘I wouldn’t disappoint him.’ His voice was a silken drawl as his gaze lingered briefly on the pulsing beat at the edge of her throat, then shifted to acknowledge Ben’s excited wave. ‘It’s good to see he’s enjoying himself.’

‘Yes.’

Ben raced towards them, arms outstretched as he reached his uncle, and Taylor watched as Dante lifted him high against his chest to settle him in the crook of one arm.

‘We’re all getting a present,’ Ben enlightened with excitement. ‘And Tamryn says the party isn’t over yet.’ He transferred an anxious look from his uncle to Taylor. ‘We can stay, can’t we?’

‘Of course,’ Dante conceded easily.

It became a pleasant hour as the parents mixed and mingled while the children were supervised at play.

Drinks were offered, together with coffee, tea and canapеs…and fairy lights illuminated the grounds as the sun faded beyond the horizon.

Dante rarely moved from Taylor’s side, projecting a unified front…one she chose to dissemble without much success.

It was almost seven when they collected Ben, bade Tamryn goodnight and thanked the little girl’s parents for the party invitation.

Ben was already beginning to droop as Dante hoisted him high onto his shoulders and accompanied Taylor out to the car.

It had been an exciting day for a little boy, who once they reached home, wanted only a glass of milk after his bath, and fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

‘Anna has prepared dinner,’ Dante relayed as they quietly closed Ben’s door behind them.

Togetherness was a fine thing, but Taylor was in overload, and a little wired from spending a few hours in his company.

‘I’m really not hungry.’

A statement which incurred an intense look. ‘You barely ate a thing at the party.’

‘I’m fine.’ He saw too much, divined more, and it put her on edge. ‘I’ll grab a banana, coffee, and spend time on my laptop.’

‘I’ll have Anna bring you a tray.’

She raged a silent battle for a few seconds, then ventured with extreme politeness, ‘I’m capable of doing that myself.’

Dark eyes speared her own, and held, almost as if he knew, then he inclined his head. ‘Your prerogative.’

‘Thank you.’

The air seemed to hold a curious tension…something she chose to ignore as she descended the stairs and made her way to the kitchen, where she apologised to Anna for her lack of appetite, then with a mug of fresh coffee in one hand, a banana in the other, she bade Dante and Anna ‘goodnight’.

‘Don’t work too late.’

Taylor sensed mild amusement beneath his indolent voice, and told herself she didn’t care if he thought she was avoiding him.

What was more, she’d work as late as she liked.

She occupied his home, but she was damned if he’d tell her what to do!

Consequently she entered the home office, opened her laptop, reread the previous day’s work and wrote…weaving characters, motive and suspense into script, becoming lost in the fascination of creative process.

Occasionally she rose from the chair, flexed her shoulders and executed a few calisthenics to ease the tension of repetitive movement.

The night hours were her most productive writing time, and when she’d lived in her apartment she’d often lost track of time, realising the lateness of the hour only when her eyes began to blur…

Now, however, she no longer lived alone…there was Ben, and the compelling man whose home she shared.

Dante, who had led her to believe they’d rarely see each other…except he was there, at every opportunity sharing her life and becoming a large, fundamental part of Ben’s.

So why did it bother her so much? Taylor attempted to rationalise on the edge of sleep…and failed to discover a sensible answer.


CHAPTER FOUR

TAYLOR watched as Dante swept Ben high against his chest as he prepared to leave for the airport…heard the young boy’s delighted laughter, and felt a pang of envy for the easy affection they shared.

It brought so vividly alive how much she missed Casey…the frequent phone calls, sharing, the unconditional affection and innate knowledge they were always there for each other.

A huge gap she attempted to bridge with love for her nephew.

It was enough, she assured fiercely…all she needed. Her writing career was an added bonus and the success it had brought her ensured she was busy and her mind occupied for much of the time too.

So why the longing for something more?

The touch of a man’s lips on her own. Strong, warm arms enfolding her close. Affection. Trust.

The knowledge that she was safe.

‘When will you be back?’

Her voice sounded slightly uneven, and she caught the sudden sharpness in Dante’s eyes, then it was gone.

‘A week, perhaps less.’

Taylor summoned a smile as he released Ben down onto his feet. ‘Take care.’ The words seemed fairly innocuous as she caught her nephew’s hand and crossed the lobby at Dante’s side.

Gianni was seated behind the wheel of the Mercedes as Dante released one of the large doors and moved lithely down the few steps to slide into the front passenger seat.

Ben waved until the car swept through the electronic gates and disappeared from sight.

‘I wish Zio didn’t have to go away.’

She drew him close and dropped a kiss on his nose. Poor little scrap, he sounded quite forlorn.

‘He’s a very busy man,’ she offered gently, and met solemn dark eyes.

‘He promised he’ll call tonight before I go to bed.’

One thing she’d learnt was that Dante kept to his word. ‘I’m sure he will.’ She caught hold of his hand and bestowed a teasing smile. ‘Now, young man, let’s go have breakfast.’

After which she’d oversee his normal morning routine, help him dress, pack his knapsack, drive him to kindergarten…then she’d return to seek seclusion in her home office and write until it was time to go collect Ben.

It was a plan which should work reasonably well, if she managed to gain total focus on the twist needed to extend the suspense element in the story she was currently working on.

The ability to clear her mind and enter the fictional world of her characters required concentrated effort, and fortified with a cup of Earl Grey tea, she opened her current manuscript file and reread the previous day’s work, edited and made a few minor changes before tuning in to the creative process.

At midday she took a break and fixed herself a ham and salad sandwich in the kitchen, filled a glass with apple juice and chose to eat lunch on the terrace.

The sun held little warmth and there was a fresh breeze which hinted at late afternoon showers, borne by a bank of clouds hovering on the horizon.

There were days when she permitted her mind to wander during a lunch break…others when she preferred to keep the momentum going by printing out the morning’s hard copy and editing it as she ate.

Today there was a tendency to lapse into introspection and enjoy the sensation of freedom from Dante’s presence for several days.

Leading separate lives whilst residing beneath the same roof wasn’t really happening, Taylor reflected.

Whether by accident or design Dante entered the informal dining room and shared breakfast with her and Ben each morning…and most evenings he arrived home from the city office in time to join them for dinner. What was more, he supervised Ben’s bath-time, and shared the telling of their nephew’s bedtime story.

Whatever her reservations, she had to concede Dante had Ben’s continuing welfare at heart as he displayed genuine caring and affection at every turn.

Gradually Ben’s tendency towards solemnity was beginning to fade as he smiled more often, and the occasional bad dreams where he woke crying in the night were beginning to diminish.

The move into Dante’s home was proving to be the right choice…for Ben.

So why was she so tense and on edge? Instinctively wary and unable to relax?

The simmering electricity existent beneath the surface whenever she was in Dante’s presence…what was that?

Did he sense it? Or was it merely a figment of her imagination?

Whatever, it was a complication she didn’t want or need.

Oh, for heaven’s sake…take a reality check, why don’t you?

She was one of two surrogate parents, committed to raising their nephew together. This was all about Ben… all of it.

She shared a beautiful, spacious house with a home office to die for, her own suite of rooms, staff to cook and clean, financial freedom.

So why did she have this niggling feeling something was missing? It hardly made sense.

Taylor drained the rest of her juice from her glass, collected her plate and returned both to the kitchen, then she filched a bottle of water from the refrigerator and retreated back to her work until it was time to collect Ben from kindergarten.

He burst through the door when summoned, a finger-painting clutched in one hand, his knapsack in the other, and a delighted smile lighting his face.

‘I got a gold star!’

She caught him close in a warm hug. ‘You did? That’s fantastic.’

‘I did a finger-painting of you, me and Zio Dante. Shelley said it’s very good.’

Shelley was one of the carers employed to teach and supervise the pupils…a young, bubbly brunette adored by the children.

‘Can I see it?’

Ben unfolded the paper with care and took great pride in identifying each figure. ‘That’s you with long hair, and I made Dante big, ’cos he’s tall, and that’s me.’

Taylor felt her heartstrings tug a little at the sight of a small figure holding the hand of the adult standing either side of him.

Her eyes welled with moisture, and she swept him into her arms. ‘It’s a beautiful painting.’

Ben looked at her closely. ‘Why are you crying?’





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