Grief shone in her eyes, as sudden and painful as it had struck him earlier. “I don’t want to blame them for everything that went wrong. That seems like an awful thing to do.”
“And yet the reality is that we’re both facing the consequences, life-altering ones at that, of choices they made, and have been conversing about it like mature adults.”
“So you don’t hate me then?”
“Hateis too strong a word for what I feel,” he said, choosing his phrasing carefully.
“Let’s agree, then, that we both, for some unfathomable reason, provoke the worst in each other?”
“Is it that unfathomable, though?”
The stubborn minx nodded without meeting his eyes. “You’re right that I would hate to be the center of a media spectacle. Neither can I be locked in a marriage just to get the media off my back. Not even for this baby.” She tapped his wrist with her fingers and then retreated, as if that was all the contact she could allow herself.
“Any woman would jump at the offer of luxury and protection that I’m offering,” he said, knowing it would only provoke her temper.
Instead, she looked almost…sad. “Maybe. But I don’t like to put myself in situations where I’m rendered vulnerable.”
“You have a low opinion of me. What is it that you think I will do to you?” He thrust a hand through his hair, unsettled by her distrust in him. It was an alien feeling for him to have to prove himself.
“It’s not that I distrust you, Renzo. It’s that I have no reason to trust you. You’re a powerful man who’s used to getting what he wants, a man who changes partners every month. A man who will go to any lengths to do the right thing by your family, no?”
“Why is that a negative point?”
She smiled. “What if, when things go south in this supposed marriage of ours—as they inevitably will—you take this child from me? What if you push me out of its life because I didn’t bend to your will?”
Anger pierced him in a sudden spike. “I have never abused my power or privilege like that in my life. I’m not my…” He swallowed the words as her eyes shone with curiosity. “We will sign an agreement that custody will be shared equally in case of separation.” He studied how her quiet resolve made the amber flecks in her eyes shimmer, how even when she was tired, her skin gleamed, silky smooth. “You clearly have something in mind to make it more palatable,sì? Spit it out.”
“This marriage can happen only if you agree to a quiet divorce in, say…a year. Hopefully, the interest over Pia and Santo will die down, and the child will be legally a DiCarlo without doubt. I’ll even agree to live in Italy if you still want an active role in its life.”
“You think I will not?”
“A lot of things change in a year, Renzo. This way, if you wanted to back out of the marriage, there’s no hassle. I’ll sign a prenuptial asking for nothing at the end of the year. Except, of course, whatever you wish to contribute to the child’s life. I understand you well enough to know that you’ll help me financially.”
Irate as her distrust in him made him, Renzo couldn’t fault her for being thorough and protective of their child and its future. “How magnanimous of you, Mimi,” he said, letting her name roll and writhe on his lips. “Letting me be your husband for a whole year.”
“See there!” A throw pillow came at him and hit him smack in his face. “Two minutes into this discussion and you’re already mocking me.”
Renzo picked the pillow off his lap and made a show of fluffing it while his mind whirred. It seemed his almost-fiancée and he had way more in common than he had assumed. She needed to feel in control of her life as much as he needed to feel in control of his own. While he had accepted this about himself long ago, he understood why he had felt an instant affinity toward her and was angry life had made her feel that way too. “How old are you?” he blurted out.
“Twenty-six.”
Damn it, shewasyoung to be a single mother. To face the damned media and the world on her own. To face him all by herself. And yet, so far, she had acted with more maturity than even Santo had ever shown.
“So…” Another tap of her fingers at his wrist. “Do you agree?”
Feeling like a child thwarted by his favorite toy, Renzo turned his hand and trapped her fingers beneath his. “Since we’re discussing terms and you mentioned divorce, should I hope that sex will be involved in this year-long agreement?”
Her pulse skittered as he moved his hold to her wrist. Her fingers were slender. The nails were painted a pretty pink, though it was chipped on two fingers.
When he glanced up, it was to find her looking like a deer caught in the big bad wolf’s headlights. The tip of her tongue snuck out to lick her lower lip, and his gut tightened. “I didn’t…think about that,” she said, each word coming slower than the one before. “The last thing I expected today was a marriage proposal from you.”
“And yet the proposal itself has nothing to do with thinking about having sex with me,sì? After all, like you mentioned, we have known each other for six years.”
Her breath roughened, and it was like sweet music to his ears. Hot color rushed to her cheeks. “You’re…playing with me.” Then her eyes did that widening thing that turned them into shiny pools that could reflect entire universes.
Another gasp escaped her. “You know that I’m attracted to you, don’t you?”
Something about the utter mortification settling into the planes of her face both angered and softened him.Dio mio, they were barely engaged, and already she was turning him upside down. “It’s not that much of a leap, Mimi. Most women I meet are attracted to me. It is what it is,” he said with an aggrieved air.
