Alessandro could hear the edge in her voice. This was a test, and he was not sure she even knew what answer she wanted from him. But he had learned from her comment earlier when he had made the calculation error of letting her know she and the baby would be alone. This was not what she wanted.
For the last seven months he did not seek her out, despite the way his body ached for her, he reminded himself. He could remain under control. So he offered her a compromise. “I will stay there when I can get away, if that is what you want.”
“Italy is lovely this time of the year,” she said, almost to herself. Ann-Sophie, whose job was to be a neutral medium for others’ ideas, looked so far from neutral right now. He let her debate this option as they ate. After a few moments of silence, she set down her fork and straightened in her chair.
“Thank you for the offer,” she said carefully, “but I’m fine where I am.”
But Alessandro had not brought his family’s company and name back from ruin by laying all his cards on the table in the first round of negotiation. He hadn’t even begun to use all the tools he could leverage. But for now, he focused on the lowest-hanging fruit: This woman loved books. She loved to read, as was clear from the half-read books scattered across her living room.
So he turned to her and smiled. “I neglected to mention a feature of this house that might be of particular interest. We have an enormous library. Perhaps you would at least like to see it?”
Chapter Four
TWO WEEKS.
Ann-Sophie had given herself two weeks to negotiate how to handle co-parenting their baby. They had to come to an agreement somehow, and if it happened in a country retreat in the idyllic Italian hills, well, that qualified as the vacation Dr. Azzizi had recommended. As Alessandro steered his sleek sports car along the winding two-lane road, Ann-Sophie reminded herself that there was no reason to feel anxious. Yes, she had agreed to this plan in a moment of weakness—how could she resist a library?—but she was on holiday. And in between enjoying all the extravagant luxuries Alessandro had promised, she planned to uncover why he was so set on marriage.
They had landed on a private airstrip, surrounded by lush trees that still wore their summer greens, but now, as Alessandro’s steered them toward the Alps, she spotted glimmers of fall. Golden grains from the fields of the lowlands had now made way for endless ribbons of grapevines that lined the foothills, their leaves flaunting hints of oranges and deep reds at the tips. The warm air that blew through the open windows of the red two-seater caressed her, lulling her into a kind of dreamy state, where questions about the future and Alessandro’s role in it didn’t weigh quite so heavily on her.
This morning, Alessandro had arrived in a well-cut suit, clean-shaven, his dark, glossy hair combed off his face, as if he was ready for a board meeting. The only word she had for the complicated mess of feelings that stirred at the sight of him was relief. Relief as his intoxicating gaze washed over her, and relief that she might not have to care for the baby entirely on her own. Ann-Sophie knew both those feelings were just that—feelings, fickle and fleeting, not more concrete realities.
She couldn’t forget that he wanted more than just two weeks in Italy from her. He wanted marriage and would likely pursue this goal relentlessly. Alessandro had the kind of wealth that could make too much of the world fall at his feet. He had been raised to expect that he should be the master of his own destiny, so she knew better than to trust any fantasies about the future. The moment he changed his mind, the moment she was not expedient, he could set her to the side. Along with the baby. And she knew too well how much damage that could bring to a child.
Two weeks, she reminded herself. She could leave it anytime if everything became too much. It wasn’t as if she would be some sort of captive in his castle, guarded with impenetrable walls and a crocodile-infested moat…would she?
Ann-Sophie turned to him. “The place you’re taking me… This was your family’s country escape?”
“Massimo and I lived here for a number of years, until we left for boarding school.”
She wrinkled her brow at the wording of his answer. “With you parents, right?”
“Occasionally,” he said, and there was a guarded note in his voice, as if she had stumbled into well-guarded territory. “My father had business in Milan, of course, and the two of us were a handful. One of the many perks of wealth is that you can hire staff for anything.”
There was a twist of bitterness in his voice, but when she glanced over at him, he gave her one of his distracting smiles. It was unsettling how well it worked on her. Right now, with the warm breeze blowing through his hair and his sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms as he gripped the steering wheel, Alessandro Carandini was more attractive than any man had the right to be.
But after the past day with him, she could see the way he used charm and distraction as tools to get what he wanted, and currently he wanted something from her. That awareness spread through her again, reminding her of just how vulnerable she was to him. Maybe it was better to address their relationship directly.
“I just wanted to be clear about this…” She gestured between the two of them. He glanced at her, one eyebrow lifted.
“We won’t be…?” She hesitated.
“Yes?” There was a hint of amusement that teased at the corners of his lips, but he waited for her to explain what she was almost sure was perfectly obvious. Also, she was completely failing at being direct. Her face felt hot, and her blush was certainly obvious. Everything back in Nice had flowed so easily between them, and right now, when he was purposely making this conversation difficult for her, it was clear how easily he controlled the flow.
She let out a little huff of a breath. “I’m talking about the bedroom.”
“Is that a proposition?” He looked in her direction and his eyes raked down her body. “I’m definitely open to it, though I usually like a woman to buy me a meal first.”
The humor caught her by enough surprise that it cut through her embarrassment. And for a moment, she forgot the mess of her life and the uncertainty of their future and just laughed. After seven months of worries, it felt so good to let go and laugh. It felt dangerously like stepping back in time, to those nights before he so abruptly shut down any questions of future contact.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “But my question is about sleeping arrangements.”
“I have alerted Olivia to prepare a room for you, though you are free to stay in my bed as often as you wish.”
She flushed at a particularly clear memory of lying next to him in bed. “As long as I take you to supper first, of course.”
“Of course,” he said. Then his expression shifted into something more businesslike. “I have also arranged for a doctor to visit for checkups. In case you change your mind about the paternity test.”
Frustration rose inside, still so close to the surface. “I haven’t.”
