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‘HOW ARE YOUR PARENTS?’

Sergio had seen them only once since the wedding. They had come down to London before leaving to go to Tuscany for two weeks. He had taken them out to the restaurant he owned—the very same restaurant where he had met their daughter. He had wined and dined them and no mention had been made of where he was going with Susie. With that well-bred reticence so typical of the upper classes they had steered diplomatically clear of any contentious subjects.

‘Fine.’

‘Have you mentioned our financial arrangements to them?’

‘I’ve said that you won’t be doing a runner,’ Susie told him vaguely.

Sergio frowned. ‘That’s not really good enough, is it?’

‘They understand that just because I’m pregnant it doesn’t mean that we’re going to be walking up the aisle.’

‘Even though I expect that is what they would like to see?’

She shrugged and held his stare. ‘I haven’t gone into lots of detail, but I think they understand that in this day and age people don’t get married because of an accidental pregnancy. They know that you’re…you’re…’

‘Not going to leave you in the lurch. But you haven’t mentioned the fact that you’ll be getting a house?’

‘I’ve said that I’m looking for somewhere more suitable to live once the baby’s born. They offered to get me somewhere, but I told them that you were insistent on getting involved in the financial side, so you needn’t worry that they don’t see you as a responsible person. They do.’

‘And I take it you haven’t mentioned that I asked you to marry me?’

‘Why would I do that when we’re not going to be married?’

It was the first time he had raised the subject for several weeks, and she wondered where she would be now if she had accepted his proposal. Would she now be Mrs Susannah Burzi? It was unfairly alluring and she pushed the thought aside—because if you weren’t embarking on a life of at least hopefully happily married bliss, then what was the point? She could never, would never, see marriage as a convenient arrangement.

Furthermore, she was still simmering at the thought of a house being bought behind her back, and was gearing up to finding fault—because what did he know about her tastes when it came to houses? He had only ever seen her in her ‘rented hovel’, as he liked to call it. His own apartment was the height of what money could buy, but it wasn’t the sort of thing she personally liked. Too clinical, too lacking in atmosphere.

She envisaged somewhere smart and modern…maybe in a discreetly upmarket estate.

Sergio didn’t say anything. With every passing day he could feel her withdrawal. The fire that had raged between them still managed to keep him up at night, but for her it was gradually being snuffed out—overtaken by events that neither of them had anticipated.

Occasionally, yes, he could feel the heat emanating from her, but often, like now, he could sense her blocking him out. More than anything else he wanted to shake her out of her retreat and return her to the land of the living—which included him.

Right now her profile was averted, her mouth set in a tight line. He fancied she might be silently cursing him for having found somewhere for her to live, thereby removing all possibility of her returning to the wilds of Yorkshire to take up residence on her parents’ sprawling country estate.

If they had given her a hard time things might have been slightly different, but they hadn’t. He had known from the very first second he had been introduced to Louise and Robert Sadler that their youngest daughter’s driving need to please them, her keen sense of being the least able of the crew, the one doomed to disappoint, was largely in her imagination.

She had grown up in the shadow of her enormously academic sister, and both her parents had likewise been hugely academic, gifted in their separate fields. From there had sprung Susie’s oversensitivity—which, in turn, had led her to misinterpret things her parents might have said in the past.

In fact they had absorbed the whole pregnancy deal with aplomb.

Hence he knew that whereas before she might have hesitated to ask for their help, things had subtly changed, and the lure of Yorkshire was a very real threat to his plans to get her to remain as close to him as possible.

He had debated informing her parents that he had proposed, and thereby really throwing the cat among the pigeons, but had regretfully discarded that option—because forcing a woman to do something she didn’t want to do would bring cheaply won and very short-lived success.

He might enjoy controlling situations, but he drew the line at being a complete fool.

‘You could make an effort to not look as though you’re being led to a torture chamber,’ he said drily, and Susie, who had been staring through the window, turned to look at him.

She wondered if the day would ever come when she would be able to look at him without melting inside. Probably not. And in the meantime the only thing that helped was to avoid looking at him as much as possible.

‘Sorry. I was miles away.’

‘Thinking about what?’

‘Just about the illustration I’m doing at the moment,’ she lied. ‘It’s very intricate.’

Sergio thought that there was no reason for her to be hunched over an easel, working away at something that from what he could tell paid peanuts in the big scheme of things, but he kept that to himself.

‘No interest in hearing what the house is like?’ He tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

‘It’s not going to make any difference, is it?’ she pointed out politely. ‘Considering it’s already been bought.’ She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, untangling small knots. ‘I know I should be grateful. You’ve been very good over all this. There are a lot of guys who would have been running for the hills a long time ago.’

‘And there are some who might have tried to force your hand when it came to the marriage situation,’ Sergio countered.

‘I suppose… Not that you can force someone to do something they don’t want to do.’

‘You’d be surprised how many men might dislike the thought of their child being born out of wedlock.’ His voice was grim.

‘That’s such an old-fashioned expression.’

But she didn’t like the thought of any child starting life on a conveyor belt, being shuffled between parents. Would she be blamed in the years to come? Would she end up being the villain in the piece? Her conscience stirred uneasily.

‘And it’s better than a child being torn apart between two warring, unhappy parents. Where are we?’

Busy streets had given way to more open spaces. The houses were spaced further apart. Up ahead she saw open fields and she sat forward, peering ahead.

‘Richmond Park stretches for miles around,’ he said, grimly and silently contemplating the reality that she saw any union between them as a potential battleground.

Susie was enchanted. You could almost forget that London was still accessible. She had been to a couple of parks, but generally the ones she had been to had been small and crowded. This stretched as far as the eye could see—a wilderness and yet still attached to the most vibrant city on the planet.

The car had slowed, was now manoeuvring through a series of roads that became smaller and smaller, until eventually they pulled up in front of a house that sat squarely in the middle of a well-tended garden.

‘We’re here,’ Sergio said, swinging out of the car as it pulled to a stop.

‘It’s…amazing…’

‘You sound shocked. What were you expecting? A smaller version of my apartment? No, don’t bother answering that. I can tell from the expression on your face that you were.’

He had the front door key, but first he wanted to show her the garden. They walked to the side and he led her to the back of the house, which was even more picture-perfect than the front. Overlooking the extensive open land of the park, the house gave an illusion of isolation that was seductive.

Fruit trees bordered a small, containable garden, in which a bench had been cleverly positioned so that the occupant would have unparalleled views of the parkland.

On cue, Susie strolled over and sat down.

‘It’s a little chilly out here,’ Sergio said after a few minutes. ‘Let’s go inside. You can see the rest of the house.’

She followed him and everything inside seduced her—from the cosy kitchen with its bottle-green Aga, to the quaint arrangement of rooms downstairs, each with its own personality but all of them warm and inviting.

‘Does this furniture belong to the owners?’ She ran her hands along the back of a sofa which was upholstered in colours of faded rose and cream.

‘No. I had it fully kitted out when the sale went through.’

Susie yanked her hand back as though it had been stung by a wasp. ‘So you chose the house and you chose the furniture as well?’

‘Do you like it?’

‘That’s not the point.’

‘Then what, exactly, is the point?’

He moved towards her and she stumbled a couple of paces back.

‘How long do you intend to maintain silent warfare between us, Susie? If that’s your way of trying to get rid of me through the back door, then rest assured that it’s not going to work.’

Susie licked her lips. In a desperate attempt not to find herself staring at him she turned her head. He firmly redirected it by dint of one finger on her chin.

‘I’m not… I… There’s no warfare between us…’

But that was how he would interpret her attempts to detach herself from him, even though they still gelled, still talked to one another…even though, when her guard was down, she always seemed to fall right back into him, enjoying his wit, his humour and his sharp, invigorating intelligence.

Their eyes tangled and hers dipped involuntarily to his mouth. She heard and felt the sharp intake of his breath and pulled back, heart beating fast.

For a second there…

If he touched her she didn’t know what she would do. She suspected the worst. She dreamt of his hands on her body and his mouth on hers. But everything was different now, and she refused to let herself slip back into letting her body rule her head.

‘I love all the stuff, Sergio,’ she said, regaining her composure and moving to admire one of the table lamps. ‘The colours are perfect. Very warm. Just my kind of style.’

Sergio, who was busy trying to subdue the sort of erection that ached to be touched, barely heard her.

‘Upstairs.’ His voice was harsher than he’d intended. ‘A quick look round and then we can leave. I have the keys and the house is ready for you to move in whenever you are.’

Susie took the hint. Whatever charge had sprung up between them it was one he wanted to kill as thoroughly as she did. Thinking that did something to her, made her feel sick, and she darted up the stairs, slowing down to take in all the bedrooms. Four of them. And at the very end…

She stopped dead in her tracks and gazed in wonder at the studio which overlooked the back garden and through which streamed light from windows that covered the expanse of nearly one wall.

‘Will it do?’

She turned to him and smiled shyly. ‘I have a studio…’

She explored every glorious inch of it while he stood by the door, his dark eyes following her every small movement. She loved the house but here, in this studio, she was like a kid in a candy shop.

‘The light’s absolutely perfect,’ she enthused, pausing to admire just how perfect it was by standing and staring out of the window. ‘And the workbench…the double sink…’ She admired both for a while. ‘I can put my easel just there…I won’t have to sit at that awful table with a light next to me, trying to get the colours right…’

‘Bad for a pregnant woman,’ Sergio agreed gruffly.

They’d been politely circling one another for so long now that he hadn’t realised how much he missed seeing her truly relaxed. He’d never wanted to kiss her as much as he did just at that moment. He was sick to death of being the good guy. He knew what the outcome of this situation should be and waiting to get there involved depths of patience he had never known he possessed.

She walked towards him and flung her arms around him in a hug.

A hug. He didn’t want a hug. He gently disengaged her, because if she pressed herself any closer to him he knew that he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened next. Just as he knew that what happened next would shatter the fragile relationship between them and send her on the first train back to Yorkshire.

Which was something he wasn’t going to allow.

He was playing a waiting game, and it was a game at which he had next to no experience. He was a man who got what he wanted, and gently going down different paths and exploring different avenues to get there was unheard of.

But it would be worth it.

She was having his baby, and she wasn’t going to disappear halfway up the country to bring it up without his input. He had no doubt that should she do that it wouldn’t be long before some man took an interest in her. She would be a mother, but she would also be so damned sexy that she took your breath away.

And in her search for Mr Right she wouldn’t be inclined to slam the door shut on any hopefuls, would she?

‘Yes. It is.’

Embarrassed at her enthusiastic response, which had not been returned, Susie exited the room with a final backward glance.

The atmosphere had changed. How, she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She just knew that something had sprung up between them that threatened the control she had been working so hard to establish.

‘I take it you don’t loathe it, the way you assumed you would?’ This as they were back in the car, heading away from the house.

‘I thought it was going to be like your apartment.’

‘You’re telling me that you loathe my apartment?’ He kept his tone light but it was an effort.

‘It’s very, very impressive, but the more time I spent in it the more cold and clinical I found it…’

‘I had an interior designer take care of everything and it works for me. I’m seldom there.’

‘So who took care of furnishing the house?’ Susie asked curiously.

Sergio flushed. ‘Someone else.’

‘And you…supervised the whole thing?’

‘I had some input, yes.’

Startled, she said, ‘I can’t picture you going to a fabric shop and choosing what colour you wanted the curtains to be…or having a browse in a sofa shop for the right sofa… It used to take a lot of effort just getting you down to the local supermarket…’

‘But you have to admit,’ Sergio drawled, ‘that once I was there I was excellent when it came to getting what was needed.’

‘You were terrible. You never got anything that was actually necessary. You were always intrigued by weird ingredients and bright packaging. Like a kid.’

Had they reached that level of domesticity? How had that happened? When? How was it that he hadn’t noticed?

She hastily changed the subject. ‘I shall have to have a look around at the local shops. See what’s there and how I can get to them on public transport.’

‘Which brings me to the matter of you hopping on and off the tube or trying to hunt down a bus in winter. It doesn’t work.’

‘You mean I won’t be accessible by public transport?’ Susie asked, dismayed.

‘I mean I’m going to get you a car—and before you launch into a long speech about not needing one, you do, and the subject is non-negotiable. This is about doing what’s right for the woman who happens to be carrying my baby. To be blunt, the hassle of the Underground, the walk in winter to get there or to get to the nearest bus stop, and then the jostling, the crowds…unacceptable. You just need to decide what kind of car you want.’

‘A top-of-the-range Lamborghini…’ Susie said through gritted teeth.

Sergio burst out laughing. ‘Colour?’

‘I was joking.’

‘I wouldn’t have got you one. Impractical. If I’m in it with you, where would the baby go? On the roof?’

‘I actually hadn’t anticipated you being a passenger in my car,’ she said tersely, eyes narrowed at the grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Why would I be giving you a ride somewhere?’

‘Who knows?’ He gave one of those elegant gestures that were so typically foreign, so typically him. ‘What if you suddenly decide that you want company at a supermarket?’

‘That won’t be happening!’ And stop playing with me!

She pictured them browsing the aisles while he flung in exotic stuff that she instantly removed and returned to the shelves. Her heart twisted. Somewhere deep inside her she wondered whether she had been lulled into imagining that he felt more than just lust for her because she had had those little glimpses of pure happiness…

For him, it had stemmed from nothing more significant than the fact that he wanted her in his bed, and if the occasional supermarket shop came as part of the deal then he would oblige.

While for her those little things had been the building blocks cementing a relationship that had taken over her life.

‘I suppose a car would be useful,’ she conceded—partly because it was true, but mostly because she knew that he would end up getting his own way on this score anyway. ‘But something small and second-hand.’

‘I don’t do second-hand.’

This elicited a snort from Stanley in the front, and Sergio immediately slid the glass partition shut—though only after he had told his driver to concentrate on what he was being paid to do instead of eavesdropping. ‘But I can do small.’ He looked at his watch. ‘And there’s no time like the present.’

‘You’re going to buy me a car today?’

‘What’s the point in putting it off? The house is ready. You can move in tomorrow if you choose. You’ll need a car as soon as you’re installed.’

By six that evening she was the owner of a brand-new shiny black five-door hatchback. A top-of-the-range, all-dancing, all-singing hatchback, fully loaded with everything from satnav to air conditioning.

‘A house and a car,’ she admitted to her mother as she lay curled up on the saggy sofa in the depressing little room which she and Sergio had jointly agreed she would vacate the following day.

‘How very decent of him,’ Louise Sadler said, in her usual understated manner. ‘I somehow got the impression that he was prepared to support you financially, but personally finding a house he thought you would like…’

‘It’s nothing at all like that, Mother,’ Susie rushed in hastily.

To the outsider it might seem beyond the call of duty, but she knew better. She had seen just how overwhelmingly obliging he could be when something was personally at stake for him.

Supermarket shopping, which he loathed, to placate her because he wanted her in his bed.

A house he knew she would like because she was having his baby, and there was no way he was going to let her remain in the hovel or, worse, retreat up to Yorkshire, miles away from his sphere of influence. Not with his child. No way.

‘The car—yes, I can fully understand that, darling. You really would need something to get around in. But you’re telling me that he chose all the fittings for this dream house of yours…?’

‘He employed someone to choose all the fittings. He just gave them some vague idea and allowed them to run with it. You can do that when money is no object. And I never said that it was my dream house,’ she pointed out, gazing at the keys to the house, which lay on the sofa next to her. ‘My dream house would never be in London.’

‘Well, he’s been very perceptive, managing to locate something in London that gets close…’

‘Luck.’

‘It took Daddy and I ages to find the flat…’

‘We don’t have the sort of relationship where he pops down to the estate agency so that he can sit with them and look through glossy brochures of houses for me,’ Susie said heavily.

She felt that it was time to address certain assumptions before they could blossom into huge inaccuracies.

‘Sergio and I had lots of fun, Mother, but it would have fizzled out if this…this situation hadn’t occurred…’

There was a telling silence down the line and old feelings of being a let-down, a crashing disappointment, swept over her—even though she had had a chance to re-evaluate the accuracy of those feelings. Old habits died hard, she thought, chewing her lip and waiting for her mother to break the awkward silence.

‘That’s how it is these days,’ said Louise Sadler eventually, and sighed. ‘Nothing’s perfect, my darling. As long as you feel able to cope as a single mother, then that’s the main thing.’

‘You mean it, Mum?’

‘I most certainly do. I…we…are very proud of you and the way you’re handling this unexpected situation. You’ve been plucky and strong. You’re a little soldier.’

‘I am?’

‘Of course you are,’ her mother asserted briskly. ‘You’ve put your heart and soul into doing what you wanted to do, you haven’t accepted any help from either me or your father, and you’re soldiering on…working…making sure you maintain your independence. I’ll wager you’re not accepting anything from Sergio without a fight.’

Susie laughed, feeling on a high. ‘I make noises,’ she confessed. ‘You know it sticks in my throat having to accept his help. But if Sergio decides to do something it’s impossible trying to stop him. Honestly, he’s the human equivalent of a steamroller!’

‘Quite…’ her mother said after a pause. ‘I expect it’s what you need to be if you’re to reach the giddy heights that he has…’

Buoyed by her conversation with her mother, Susie had a good night’s sleep and awoke the following morning to the insistent ring of her doorbell.

She didn’t bother to check the time. Instead she dragged herself out of bed and padded to the door, flinging on a dressing gown over the nightie that clung to her newly rounded body.

She pulled open the front door and there he was, in all his drop-dead gorgeous, magnificent glory, finger poised to ring the bell one more time.

She yawned. ‘What time is it?’

Still drowsy, Susie swept her hand through her tangled hair and stared at Sergio, who looked unfairly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed while she felt as though she still needed a few more hours’ sleep in order to face the day.

‘Gone nine-thirty. Have you forgotten that you’re moving in to the house today?’

His voice sounded normal, but Sergio was feeling far from normal. He had seen the change in her body only through layers of baggy clothes. Now she was standing in front of him, flimsy bathrobe hanging open, and an even flimsier nightdress revealing everything he had not been able to see properly before.

Lust hit him hard, knocking him for six. Her belly was rounded, her breasts fuller, and through the thin fabric he could easily glimpse the outline of her nipples, bigger and darker, poking against the cotton.

He discovered that his breathing was laboured. He wanted to shut the door behind him and propel her to her bed and…take her. It was a primitive caveman instinct that was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life before. The desire for possession roared through him and he raked his fingers through his hair and shifted restlessly on his feet.

He had to look away.

‘I hope this isn’t the way you answer the door to whoever happens to ring your doorbell,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘You need to cover yourself up.’

Or he’d have to excuse himself to use her bathroom, so that he could relieve himself of his massive, throbbing erection.

That was like a bucket of cold water being poured over her and Susie woke up fully, recognising her state of undress and yanking her dressing gown tightly around her.

She hadn’t thought! She’d been so sleepy that it hadn’t occurred to her that she was on show—in all her new body glory! And judging from his reaction he couldn’t have been less turned on by the sight.

Mortified, she stepped back to let him pass and excused herself hurriedly so that she could change.

She flung on anything—baggy jogging bottoms and a loose sweater with a vest underneath, warm socks and her trainers—and reappeared to find him staring through the window.

‘I’m sorry.’ She was tense as he slowly turned round to look at her. ‘I overslept. I planned on setting the alarm but I must have forgotten… I seem to spend half my life forgetting things these days!’

She could feel the tension in the air between them and wanted to tell him that he could relax, that she wasn’t about to jump on him.

Sergio was having difficulty getting words out. ‘No problem.’

‘I did manage to pack some stuff,’ she continued into the awkward thick silence. ‘Not that there’s that much to pack… I have a suitcase filled with clothes, but I think I might just leave my bits and pieces of crockery here. No point taking them, is there?’

Silence.

‘Are you…all right? You look a bit pale.’

‘We should go—get you in. You can have the day then…to settle in. I…I’ve made sure that there’s food…some basics…’ He had become a stuttering idiot. He rubbed the back of his neck.

‘You—you shouldn’t have,’ Susie stammered.

‘It’s no big deal.’

Sergio recovered his composure slowly. The good news was that breathing was now possible.

‘You need to rest. You can’t be hopping into a car every two seconds to go down to the shops.’

He grabbed the case on the floor and gave a cursory glance round the room, which looked even more dilapidated now, if that was possible.

‘I’m thinking you should paint until you feel tired, then rest.’

‘I’ll be the size of a beached whale if I do that. A pregnant woman needs a little exercise or else the pounds pile on.’

He didn’t say anything, but from where he was standing the piling on of the pounds seemed to be increasing her sexiness—not diminishing it.

Now that she knew where they were heading Susie took the time to appreciate the joy of getting out of the packed streets and never-ending noise.

For once, Stanley wasn’t driving.

‘A week’s holiday doing a baking course in Devon,’ Sergio explained. ‘The man never fails to amaze me. He’s moved effortlessly from a life of breaking into cars to a life of breaking into recipe books.’

Because he had you as his mentor, was the thought that sprang instantly into her head.

The house was as delightful second time round as it had been the first time. More so, if anything. The garden seemed bigger, more abundantly landscaped, and as she stepped into the house the furnishings that she had skimmed over in her confusion at being there were more homely, warmer, more welcoming than she remembered.

He hadn’t been lying when he had said that some shopping had been done. The cupboards were full—as was the fridge.

‘I’ll send my man back to your house to get the rest of your things.’

‘There’s nothing, really. Like I said, I’ve packed my clothes and my art stuff…and the few knick-knacks my parents gave me to make the place a little less… What’s left are just some stupid posters and bric-a-brac I bought to make the place less…less…’

‘Vile? Disgusting?’

The corners of her mouth twitched and unconsciously she placed her hand on her stomach. ‘Maybe…’

He knew those knick-knacks. They were the anomalies in her flat that had first made him suspect her of not being who she said she was—the expensive little things that had seemed to prove her a liar, the lingering question mark that had finally driven him to that wedding.

‘Why don’t you stay…have something to eat…some lunch…? I mean, you’ve stocked the cupboards…it’s only fair… Of course you must be busy… In which case…’

She met his gaze and instantly her body sprang into life. Her nipples tightened into aching peaks, her legs turned to jelly and a deep pain began in her pelvis…spreading until she was melting. He was looking at her with such intensity…

Giddy, she leaned against the wall, as weak as a kitten.

‘You don’t want me to stay, Susie.’

‘What are you talking about? I just asked you, didn’t I?’

Very slowly he walked towards her, and the closer he got the more helpless she felt.

‘If I stay…I’m going to have to touch you…’

‘What do you mean?’ She hated herself for asking that, because the answer was written in the intensity of his gaze.

‘You’ve changed… Your breasts have become bigger…’

‘It’s the pregnancy,’ she said weakly.

Dangerous conversation. It played to her weakness and she knew she should resist, should say something funny or sarcastic, but all she could think was, God, you’re beautiful, and I want to make love to you more than anything else in the whole world…

Looking at her, Sergio knew that he could have her. Right now, right here. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even be able to make it up the stairs. But what would that prove? Nothing. And what would follow in the aftermath of that?

Marriage might be out of the question, but was he going to blow their fragile truce by stampeding her into bed like someone who had zero control? He had built his life on control, and he knew it was the most powerful ally anyone could have.

But, God, his whole body was aching. He wanted to reach out and slip his hand under the jumper, wanted to feel the weight of her breasts, wanted to push that jumper up and suckle on engorged, enlarged nipples, bigger and darker now that she was pregnant.

And he wanted to taste her down there, get his fill of her, and then come inside her without the nuisance of protection.

‘I won’t stay for anything,’ he said abruptly. ‘I should go. Is there anything else you need?’

Her body cooled and she stiffened in receipt of a rebuttal he wasn’t even bothering to dress up.

‘Nothing. And you’re right. Silly of me to have asked you to stay. You’re right—so right… You should head off…’