A Deal To Carry The Italian's Heir / Christmas Contract For His Cinderella. Jane Porter
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just that...every time he and I get into it, it’s Mum who suffers. It’s Papa’s birthday next week and she’s always extra fragile on that day.
“Usually she and I spend the day together, donate a week’s worth of meals at this shelter Papa used to volunteer at...help out the whole day. And then we have dinner with a lot of his friends and family, just remembering him. I prep for it for days, take the entire day off, and it almost feels like...she and I never drifted apart.” The wistfulness in her eyes tugged at him before she blinked it away. “If I have a massive row with Mario now, it’ll bleed through to her. She’ll worry that the both of us are fighting and I don’t want to make Papa’s birthday extra hard for her.”
Leo voiced the question that came to him instantly, his tone a little bit sharp. “And in all this, who looks after you? Even I know that you still miss your papa.”
She frowned. “I look after myself. My mother has always been emotionally delicate—I don’t think she ever recovered from Papa’s death, and yes, sometimes I wish...” Guilt shone in her eyes before she sighed. She fiddled with a ring she wore on her right hand. “I don’t like talking about all this with you.”
“Why not?”
“I feel guilty for talking about her. And I definitely don’t want to lose your respect. I know you abhor emotional drama of this sort.”
“Because you have a complex relationship with your mother?” he said, swallowing away the stinging words he wanted to use. Like toxic and harmful and soul-sucking.
“I think you have made a lot of extrapolations from whatever the media reports about my relationships with women.” For some reason he couldn’t fathom, every time Neha made even a fairly reasonable assumption about him, it riled him. He wanted to be...the perfect man in her eyes.
Cristo! Where was this coming from?
“What did you think raising a child together was going to entail? Whether we like it or not, whether we want or not, our families and our history are going to feature in our child’s life.”
“And it doesn’t bother you?” she said, searching his gaze.
“I forgot extremely stubborn in the list of adjectives earlier,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Believe me, bella. We’re in this together. There’s nothing you need to hide from me.
“In the meantime, I’m more than happy to play your hero.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “I don’t need a hero, Leo. I just want you to pretend to be one.” Her fingers dusted at some imaginary speck on his jacket and his heart thundered under the casual touch. Her gaze ate him up. “But yeah, I’m glad you’re on my side.”
TWO AND A HALF hours into the party, Neha was glad she’d let Leo convince her to stick to his side.
There was a power high in being the woman that Leonardo Brunetti couldn’t keep his hands off. Oh, she knew that all the long, lingering looks and touches—she loved the feel of his palm against her lower back—were for the benefit of the couple of journalists he’d told her were present through the crowd.
It was about making a public statement without actually standing in front of a high-focus lens and admitting that yes, after years of platonic relationship, they were taking their relationship to the next level. But she couldn’t stop herself from enjoying the thrill of the moment.
The warm, male scent of him was both familiar and exciting. Every time he wrapped his arm around her waist, or squeezed her shoulders, or pulled her to his side, she felt a little tingle pulse up her spine, filling her veins with electric charge.
She loved hearing her name on his lips as he introduced her around to the extended Brunetti family, to the powerful board members of BFI. Clung to his every word, loved the secretive smile he sent her way when someone commented that the most untouchable bachelor had been finally caught.
But it wasn’t just the electricity arcing between them.
There was a sense of strength in his mere presence at her side. She’d been self-sufficient, emotionally and mentally, for so long that to have him at her back felt like a luxury. An echo of a need that had gone unanswered. She had someone in her corner finally to face Mario.
Even the sight of Mario’s scowl when his gaze landed on Leo’s arm around her waist, the way his sharp gaze followed them around, couldn’t dilute her enjoyment of the party.
The entire grounds around the villa had been lit up until it was reflected on the waters of the lake. Pristine white marquees caught the overflow of guests from the villa. Cream-colored circular lanterns hung from the ceilings while beautiful white lilies made up exquisite centerpieces on round tables. Strategic ground lights added nightly splendor to Leo’s gardens. With the backdrop of Lake Como’s lights, the estate glittered.
The only strange thing was Silvio Brunetti’s conspicuous absence from the celebrations, and Alessandra’s, too, who was close to Greta, even more than her own grandsons.
A small dais had been raised at the center of the marquee where the matriarch, Greta, came onto the dais and delivered a speech in Italian that was too fast for her to follow. She invited her family to join her. Neha sat stunned when Leo walked up to her and reached out a hand to her.
For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, she could feel every single gaze trained on her, the silence deafening. Yes, they were putting on a show for a variety of reasons. Neha had never expected to be counted as one of the Brunetti family.
But even her hesitation hadn’t thrown off the resolute look in Leo’s eyes. Bending down from his great height, the broad sweep of his shoulders cutting off the entire world, his gorgeous, rugged face filled her vision. The focus of that gaze—all on her—was addictive. “I thought I had made this clear between us. Whatever happens in the future, or doesn’t happen—” a twinkle appeared in his eyes “—my child, and therefore you, will always be a part of this family.”
“You don’t understand,” she’d whispered, putting her slim hand in his huge one. Shivering at the abrasive slide of his palm. “They’ll think it a declaration neither of us intends.”
“I do not give a damn, as you say, bella.”
After that, she hadn’t even cared how Mario was taking the whole thing.
There was an exhilarating kind of freedom in letting Leonardo shoulder her burdens, at least for the evening. She danced with Massimo once and then twice with Leo, and tasted so many delicacies while laughing with Natalie.
After a long stretch of loneliness, life felt good, real.
Having just touched up her makeup, she walked out into the small sitting lounge with full-length mirrors and a soft white leather sofa when she realized she wasn’t alone.
Everything in her braced to face the vitriolic attack that would come from Mario. Instead, her mum stood inside the room, her delicate face pinched with worry and distress. Dressed in a cream pantsuit that set off perfectly against her fair skin and pearls at her throat, she looked exquisitely lovely in a frail way. When she’d been a teenager, Neha had wished she’d been more like her mum with her petite, feminine frame, the silky dark hair, the delicate, sharply set features.
But now... Neha was glad she’d inherited her dad’s build and his resilient nature.
“Hello, Mum,” she said, leaning down and kissing Padma’s cheek. A subtle scent of roses filled her nose, instantly plunging her into that twisty, minefield she’d been navigating for too long. “I was hoping we could have a quick catch-up before you left. Especially since I hadn’t seen you in a while. Sorry, I didn’t come sit by you tonight.” She hated this, this distance that came between