The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command. Helen Bianchin

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      ‘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 СКАЧАТЬ