The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command. HELEN BIANCHIN

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The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command - HELEN  BIANCHIN


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Ben’s legal guardians, should the worst ever happen, no one had ever thought that this time would come. Now Taylor wondered as to precisely how custody of Ben could be shared by two people who resided at opposite ends of the world.

      She’d considered every scenario, agonised and lost sleep over each of them…knowing there was a need for mutual agreement, yet unable to countenance the success of any one solution.

      There was the sinking, sickening feeling that Dante would exert unfair pressure, given Ben was a d’Alessandri heir.

      A fierce protectiveness strengthened her resolve. If Dante attempted to remove Ben from her care, he’d have to do so over her dead body!

      Dante d’Alessandri stepped down onto the tarmac from his Gulfstream jet, thanked the flight attendant, cleared Customs, then exited the terminal and crossed to the black Mercedes parked a few metres away. He acknowledged the chauffeur and slid into the rear seat, resting his head on the soft, buttery leather.

      Within minutes the Mercedes eased towards the exit leading from Sydney’s major air terminal.

      Gusty showers dashed rain against the windscreen as the vehicle traversed the main arterial road leading into the city.

      Fitting, perhaps, given events of the past few weeks wherein he’d dealt with his brother and sister-in-law’s accidental death, accompanied his widowed mother from Florence to Sydney for the funeral, then had personally ensured her safe return to Italy.

      Two brothers, Dante reflected, a few years apart in age, close during their formative years, through university, adhering to their father’s dictate they each take a lowly position in the d’Alessandri corporation and work their way up. Something at which they’d both succeeded. It was Dante who had been selected to remain at the Italian head office while Leon was dispatched to the Australian corporate branch in Sydney.

      Opposite sides of the world had lessened individual contact, but they’d kept in frequent touch via phone and email.

      Now Dante was back in Sydney to settle Leon’s affairs and deal with the legalities involved in sharing custody of his brother’s son, who thankfully had been safely ensconced in kindergarten on the day his parents had been killed.

      A child he’d promised to care for…and would, given he was legally bound to do so by the terms of Leon and Casey’s wills.

      Five years ago he’d stood as best man at the wedding of his younger brother to Casey Adamson, and upon Ben’s birth a little over a year later he’d agreed to be named together with Casey’s sister, Taylor, as Ben’s legal guardian and godparent.

      A protective measure, and one it had been hoped would never need to be put into effect, Dante ruminated with a pensive expression.

      His eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled Taylor’s image. Tall, slender, dark blonde hair. A young woman he’d met at Leon’s engagement, partnered at Leon’s wedding, again at Ben’s christening, and shared mutual support with at Leon and Casey’s funeral.

      He recalled the unshed tears glistening in her eyes during the service…the moment she faltered, then regained control during the reading of the eulogy. And afterwards as the family stood at the grave site, the cool autumn day and the wind whipping at her hair.

      It had been Taylor, immediately following the fateful accident, who’d taken Ben into her care and shielded the child during the difficult weeks that followed.

      Something for which he was immensely grateful, given his need to support his mother, tie up urgent business matters and delegate in order to facilitate his return to Sydney.

      Dante checked his watch as the chauffeur drew the Mercedes to a halt at the kerb adjacent a tall city building.

      It took only minutes to gain access to Leon’s legal firm on a high floor, give his name and have the lawyer’s PA lead him into a large executive office where Leon’s legal representative welcomed him with a customary greeting before indicating the young woman who’d risen from her chair.

      ‘Taylor,’ Dante acknowledged as he closed the space between them, took her offered hand, then leant in and brushed his lips to her cheek, sensed the faint hitch in her breath…and wondered at it.

      Her height was accentuated by stiletto-heeled boots, black fitted trousers and a mid-thigh-length knitted woollen jacket in air-force blue, hitched low over her hips by a wide leather belt.

      His brief return to Florence had wrought a regular email exchange regarding their nephew and confirmation of today’s legal consultation.

      As sisters, he reflected, Taylor and Casey had shared an affectionate bond, but different personalities.

      Casey, so bright and bubbly, with laughing eyes and a wicked sense of humour. Her personal world had been filled with her husband and son. Whereas Taylor adopted a reserved, almost wary mask he found intriguing.

      Yet he’d seen it slip for a brief moment when Casey had said her vows to Leon during their wedding ceremony. Later at Ben’s christening, when Taylor had pledged to care for her nephew as his godmother…and recently at Casey and Leon’s funeral service.

      It was a vulnerability she’d endeavoured to hide…one which fascinated him on a fundamental level.

      A woman it would give a man pleasure to tame…if only to peel back the various layers of her reserve and discover what lay in her heart. Possibly her soul.

      A challenge, but not one he’d been inclined to pursue during his infrequent stopovers.

      ‘Dante.’

      Her voice held polite warmth, and he had the uncanny feeling she’d read his mind…something he seriously doubted.

      As CEO and president of the d’Alessandri corporation, he’d gained a serious reputation for cool-headed, cutthroat negotiation…an essential requisite for wheeling and dealing in multinational commercial real estate on an annual multi-billion-dollar scale, with a personal fortune placing him among Europe’s wealthy echelon.

      Such a level of success hadn’t been achieved without an ability to guard whatever strategy he chose to employ.

      The lawyer indicated one of three comfortable chairs as he resumed his position behind the large desk. ‘Please take a seat.’ He pulled a file forward and opened it. ‘The custody issue regarding Leon and Casey’s son needs to be addressed. I assume you’ve each given it some thought?’

      ‘Ben is comfortable living with me,’ Taylor offered quietly. ‘I work from home, so there are no issues with child care. I know Casey would have been happy for me to take primary responsibility.’

      ‘I propose Ben should make his home with me in Italy—’ Dante paused fractionally and offered Taylor a considering look ‘—where he can be educated and groomed to eventually take his place in the corporation my late father founded. Ben is a d’Alessandri heir, the first in his generation. I have no doubt Leon would want his son to follow in his family’s footsteps.’

      Taylor’s stomach plummeted at the unvoiced implication, and her eyes darkened with dismay. ‘That can’t be considered an option.’

      Was that her voice? It sounded slightly strangled, even to her own ears. ‘Ben is still struggling to comprehend the loss of his parents. He needs familiar surroundings and a regular routine. Not,’ she added with increasing concern, ‘be faced with adjusting to a strange country, people he doesn’t know and a language he doesn’t understand. It was never Casey’s intention Ben live anywhere other than Sydney.’

      ‘Nor, I imagine,’ Dante drawled, ‘was it Leon and Casey’s desire to leave this earth at such a young age.’ His eyes speared her own. ‘But fate has chosen otherwise.’

      She subjected him to an encompassing appraisal, noting his broad-boned facial features, startling dark eyes, the generous mouth…the wide shoulders beneath superb tailoring, his tall, lithe frame whose height surpassed her own by several inches.

      He


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