Claiming His Pregnant Innocent. Maggie Cox

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Claiming His Pregnant Innocent - Maggie Cox


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woman melt if he looked at them directly, he certainly stirred the senses. And it didn’t hurt that he wore his white cambric shirt and light blue jeans in an easy way that suggested he never had to worry about what he wore... That fit, toned body of his guaranteed that he’d look good in just about anything.

      Catching herself, she realised it had been a very long time since she’d looked at a man with anywhere near longing. Life with a husband who hadn’t been interested in intimacy had seen to that. In any case, she wouldn’t let this pointless impulse to get to know the handsome Italian detract from her goal to continue renting the villeta. Coming here had given her the freedom she needed to concentrate on her work and earn a better living.

      She’d always thought herself blessed to have artistic skills, even if it had bemused her logically minded ex-husband.

      ‘I can’t pretend I understand your devotion to this drawing you do when you could easily have a much better-paid career if you put your mind to it,’ he’d declared.

      The problem was, Marc put all his energy into working as a broker in the City, and to him money was the only thing worth having. Lily should have known from the start that his values were a million miles away from hers. But her search for more stability in her life and her decision to marry a man with money and property, who could provide her with security, had led her completely astray.

      Yes, Marc was attractive, engaging and witty, and when they’d first dated he’d regularly told her how much he enjoyed being with her, that he liked her better than any other woman he’d dated. What was not to like? But her feelings of friendship towards him had sadly not blossomed into desire.

      On that subject, she’d become doubtful that she even had it in her to feel such an emotion.

      In truth, what had started out as an enjoyable friendship categorically should never have led to marriage. That much was clear. Shortly after they were married their relationship had very quickly lost its way. Added to that, Lily had quickly grown to despise the phoney London life they’d lived, because she hadn’t been able to relate to his friends and colleagues who, in her opinion, put money and possessions over everything that was natural and good.

      It hadn’t been the life she would have chosen if she’d utilised some common sense and their divorce had been both inevitable and welcome. When she’d received her Decree Absolute a year ago she had determined never to do anything so foolish again as to marry someone she barely even knew. No, she would be much more sensible.

      Knowing she could earn money from her craft was the one advantage she had in her favour. Along with her savings, it meant that she wouldn’t have to depend on alimony. Yet Marc had still insisted she accept a generous cheque from him in order to help her get started in her new life. His reason for doing so was that he wanted them to remain friends and part amicably.

      The charmingly aged Italian villeta she’d found provided her with just the surroundings she’d been looking for. It was the perfect place for her to work on her book illustrations and hopefully restore some confidence in herself. Particularly after a marriage that had made her doubt she would ever find a man who would truly desire her, or she him.

      Perhaps she just didn’t have what it took for that?

      ‘Why don’t we sit down?’ she suggested, indicating the somewhat battered wine-coloured sofa while electing to sit in the chintz-covered armchair herself.

      As Bastian settled himself Lily noticed that his hands rested on his knees, as though he might easily spring into action should the need arise. That surely suggested a man who found it hard to contain his energy and relax. Already sensing that he wanted to get their business over and done with as soon as possible, she hoped his impatience wouldn’t steer her towards trying to ameliorate him.

      ‘You remember a few weeks ago we gave you notice to vacate the property?’ he began.

      Her smooth brow furrowed. ‘Yes. I was told that you needed the land for planting.’

      ‘Well, I understand from my father that you’ve changed your mind about leaving?’

      ‘I didn’t agree with the request in the first place and I told him so. When I rented this place I signed a legal document that stated the period of rental was two years. So far I’ve only been here six months’

      ‘I’m well aware of that, signora, but I hoped that our offer of financial compensation would take care of any inconvenience caused—as well as our promise to find you somewhere equally suitable for your requirements.’

      Releasing a sigh, she sat up a little straighter. ‘It’s not just about practical considerations. I’ve—I’ve grown to love this place. Being here has helped me find the inspiration I was looking for.’

      Lifting an enquiring dark brow, Bastian folded his arms. ‘You have had trouble finding it elsewhere?’

      ‘I had what you might call a dry period. I made an unwise decision and life got rather difficult for me for a while. Consequently I lost faith in my ability.’

      With a helpless shudder she caught hold of her hands to stop them trembling, but she knew her companion hadn’t failed to miss their slight quiver.

      Why had she been so candid with him? She should learn to think before she spoke! Now he would probably suspect she wasn’t entirely confident about their upcoming chat and that perhaps she was unsure as to where she stood regarding the legalities of her rental.

      His deep brown eyes unsettled her with their frank intensity.

      ‘But presumably your publishers still want your work?’

      ‘Yes, they do. I illustrate the stories of a well-known children’s writer, and so far I haven’t had any complaints. The books are doing very well in spite of my recent challenges.’

      ‘You do not wish to write your own stories and illustrate them?’

      Funny he should ask that. It was one of her long-held dreams.

      Lily swallowed hard. The knowing smile that dimpled his bronzed cheek was disconcerting. Now she trembled for a different reason... If he worked for MI6 he could probably persuade any female perpetrator of crime to confess immediately.

      It shook her to her core to think of what that effortlessly sexy smile of his could do to a woman...

      ‘Yes, I do. I’ve already written a couple but... Well, it’s not an easy profession to get into.’

      ‘So better to stick with what you know? Is that what you’re saying?’

      Indignant heat flooded her. ‘I’m not saying that at all. I just think it’s best to deal with one thing at a time.’

      ‘You don’t believe in taking risks, then?’

      ‘You came here to talk to me about my tenancy, Signor Carrera... Don’t you think we’d better just get on with that?’ Endeavouring to sound firm, she felt wary of him seeing her as potentially weak and taking advantage.

      Allowing his gaze to roam leisurely over the disconcertingly lovely features before him, Bastian realised that something that should have been easy—that he dealt with as a matter of course in his business lifesuddenly felt tiresomely difficult.

      Mulling over what she might have meant when she’d confessed that her life had been rather difficult lately and things had made her lose faith in her ability, he quickly ran his mind through the gamut of possibilities. Had she been bereaved? Was she recovering from an accident or an illness? Or had she lost her money in one of those deplorable financial scams?

      Then it dawned on him.

      She’d been recently divorced, his father had said. No doubt her confidence had been shaken by her marriage not working out. It must have been harder still if she’d really loved the man...

      Because the idea disturbed him more than it ought, he steered his thoughts back to the matter in hand


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