Modern Romance January 2020 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ on file. It was a beautiful, balmy evening, the sun setting over the ocean, its placid surface shimmering with crimson and gold, palm trees silhouetted against a darkening sky.

      The apartment building where Mia lived was a two-storey stucco house with an apartment on each floor and a pool in the back. Hers was on the second floor, and he mounted the steps with grim determination. Rapped once, short and hard. Waited.

      A few seconds later he heard light footsteps, and then the slip of a chain before the door opened. Mia stood there, the questioning smile on her face morphing into an expression of complete and utter shock.

      ‘Alessandro…’ His name came out in a whisper.

      ‘You should have told me.’ The words came out before he could stop them.

      Her face paled and one hand fluttered to her throat. ‘How did you…?’

      ‘So it is mine?’ he interjected grimly, and her eyes sparked.

      ‘It is a she, which you probably already know, considering you’re here.’

      ‘Yes, I do.’ He’d forgotten her fire, and how it annoyed and impressed him in equal measure. ‘Are you going to let me in?’

      Wordlessly she stepped aside, closing the door behind him. Alessandro looked around the room, noting its bland corporate furnishings softened by familial touches—a colourful mat and baby’s activity gym on the floor, a pink bouncy seat in one corner, a wicker basket of bright toys by the coffee table.

      He turned to Mia, taking in how she had changed. Her hair was pulled back loosely, golden tendrils framing a rounder, softer face. Her figure was rounder and softer too, more womanly. She was dressed in a tunic top and capris, casual clothes he realised he’d never seen her in. Of course, he’d barely seen her at all. He’d known her for two days. Two short, incredible, life-changing days.

      Neither of them spoke; she regarded him nervously, wiping her palms down the sides of her flowing top.

      ‘Where is she?’ he demanded.

      ‘Sleeping in her nursery. Alessandro…’

      ‘You should have told me.’ He couldn’t get past that. ‘No matter what did or didn’t happen between us, you should have told me.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t forgive that, Mia.’

      ‘You can’t forgive?’ Her nervousness fell away as she stared at him incredulously. ‘You have some cheek, Alessandro Costa.’

      Now he was glaring as well, both of them with daggers drawn, only moments into their meeting. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

      ‘What makes you think I didn’t try to tell you?’ She planted her hands on her hips, her eyes furious slits of bright, bright blue. ‘Why do you assume?’

      He shook his head slowly. He wasn’t buying that. ‘If you’d tried, I would have known.’

      ‘Oh, really? You, the head of a huge, sprawling multibillion-dollar organisation? You think a message from a nobody PA would have been passed on?’

      He frowned. ‘So how did you try to reach me?’

      ‘The only way I knew how,’ she snapped. ‘Through the switchboard of Costa International.’

      His frown deepened, but he still couldn’t concede the point. ‘There must have been a better way…’

      ‘And what way would that have been?’ Mia challenged. Now she was the one who sounded angry and aggrieved, the one who was in the right, and yet Alessandro felt she couldn’t be. She couldn’t be. ‘You didn’t exactly want to keep in touch, did you? I didn’t have any of your contact details, and I was under the distinct impression you never wanted to lay eyes on me again. Which was fine by me, because I didn’t want to lay eyes on you.’

      Which, absurdly, stung, even though he knew it shouldn’t have. It wasn’t as if they’d had a relationship, or even been friends. ‘A baby changes things, obviously,’ he snapped. ‘A baby changes everything.’

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      MIA STARED AT ALESSANDRO, a feeling of dread surging along with the anger that had been her instinctive response, even though she knew he had a point. For the last year she’d been fighting a sense of guilt over the fact that she hadn’t tried harder to tell him, but she’d always justified it to herself, telling herself at least she had tried to give him a message, and in any case he wouldn’t have cared anyway. Presumptions, she realised now, that were utterly wrong, because Alessandro looked as if he cared very much indeed.

      Now he was standing there in front of her, she felt overwhelmed by the sheer presence of him, too dazed to hold on to a single coherent thought. When she’d seen him at her door, she’d felt the blood rush from her head, and she’d had to clutch the doorframe to keep herself upright.

      She’d never thought she’d see Alessandro again. She’d convinced herself that he would never find out, that he’d never look for her, that he’d never care. Clearly she’d been wrong.

      Several times she’d wondered about making more of an effort to let him know he was going to be a father, but she’d never felt brave enough, and as the months had gone on and on it had felt harder and harder to do.

      Once Ella had been born, she’d been too tired and overwhelmed to think about Alessandro at all, much less worry about him.

      But now he was here, looking furious and wronged, and she had no idea what to do about it. After everything she’d been through—terrible morning sickness, a difficult labour and delivery, and Ella’s colicky start to life—she didn’t think she could handle Alessandro’s outrage on top of it.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said as she did her best to stand her ground and meet his stony gaze. ‘But I did try to reach you.’

      ‘So what are you saying?’ Alessandro demanded. ‘You left a message with the switchboard saying you were having my baby?’ He sounded scathing.

      ‘No, of course not,’ Mia answered with dignity. ‘I would never be so indiscreet, especially concerning a matter so personal to both of us. I simply said it was urgent and very important that you receive my message, and I asked you to return my call. Which you never did.’

      ‘Because I never got the message!’ Alessandro exploded. ‘As you very well should have been able to guess.’

      Mia drew a steadying breath. ‘That is not my fault, Alessandro.’

      ‘No?’ Alessandro shook his head slowly. ‘Surely there were other ways, Mia. You could have told your boss, Eric Foster. He has my details. You could have got them from him, and contacted me directly.’

      Mia looked away, knowing she could have done exactly that. Guilt needled her again, sharp, painful pricks. ‘To be honest, Alessandro, I didn’t think you’d care.’

      The silence that met this statement was thunderous. Alessandro stared at her, his mouth open, his eyes flinty, before he folded his arms across his impressive chest СКАЧАТЬ