The Italian Billionaire's Secret Baby (Baxter Sisters Book 2) Page 3

  A knock sounded on the door. Who could that be? Maybe he’d put the wrong time down for his breakfast delivery. It was only six thirty – a full hour early. He shut off the shower faucet. With a towel knotted at his waist, he opened the door. Katrina stood with her bottom lip tucked under her top teeth. At the sight of him, her eyes widened. He registered a hit to his stomach as if someone had punched him without warning.

  Anger and passion warred to gain the upper hand. His strong-legged ballerina wife was a delightful creature. Even with violet smudges under her eyes, she was still hauntingly beautiful. She glanced down the hall toward the elevator. He read her mind.

  “You’re here. I told you I’d call. But we may as well get it over with.” He stood back to let her pass.

  She faltered. A moment of fight or flight reflected out of her eyes as her jaw tensed. Then she strode into the room.

  “You look like you’ve been awake most of the night, too.” He closed the door and admired her graceful legs as she passed. Hardly any limp. Her tight training pants showed off her dancer’s round bottom.

  Those violet smudges made some part of him wretched. He’d put them there. Surprising her yesterday at her studio must have given her a lot to think about. But he needed the edge that surprising her gave him. He wouldn’t risk her lawyering up and fighting him from afar.

  Her gaze drifted from his wet hair, down over his face to his bare chest. Pink flushed her cheeks. “What I have to say can’t wait.”

  Questions crowded his mind. But the two that had made sleep so elusive the previous night stood out. Was it his fault that she ran away from him without at least telling him she was pregnant? But it couldn’t be his fault that she kept his child a secret for two years. Could he ever forgive her for that?

  Wearing a towel drew looks from her that made him want to kiss her into submission. But he didn’t kiss the enemy. She’d effectively stolen his child. All night he’d been thinking about the revelation of meeting his son and making plans. He wanted to have a relationship with the son he’d loved at first sight. Anger at Katrina had balled his fists. He’d missed much of his child’s life because she’d run away.

  “Sit somewhere. I can’t talk to you when you look as if you’re about to run out the door.”

  “I won’t run, not until I’ve said what I need to.”

  “Bene. Go ahead, bella.”

  He sat down on the sofa and stretched his arms up along the back and let his legs splay out. His back and neck muscles clenched and he closed his eyes and breathed out. He’d considered getting dressed but dismissed it because she might disappear again if he left the room. Also his bare chest seemed to be reminding her of the chemistry between them. That could be to his advantage.

  The burning simmering anger needed to be banked. When he opened his eyes again, she’d moved to a chair near the window. Her blonde hair pulled back into a neat chignon reflected the rising sun. He drew in a sharp breath as his heart clenched. She looked like an angel. Looks were deceptive.

  “You must hate me, but I never expected you to accept this,” she said.

  “The past can’t be changed. We have to start again from today. I’ve decided we must get back together and raise our child.”

  She took in a sharp breath. Her gaze pierced his soul. Terror and hope washed together in her moist eyes. “It’s not that simple. Please, let me say what I came to say.”

  He didn’t expect her to agree straight away, but he’d got it out there. She knew now what the stakes were. He threw his hands out. “Say what you want to.”

  “I came here to tell you that I can take care of us. The grant that enabled you to discover Alex is designed to help ballerinas return to dancing after having a baby.”

  “You are my wife and Alex is my child. It’s my duty to take care of you both.”

  “That’s just it. We’re not your responsibility. I'm all right, but if you want to help Alex financially, I won’t stop you from contributing to his needs in the future, if he wants it.”

  Alessandro didn’t answer. He’d let her speak her mind, then he’d set her straight on exactly what would happen. He nodded to acknowledge that he’d heard her.

  She crossed her elegant legs. Her gaze flicked to his chest and she lost some of her composure. He liked it when her cheeks colored.

  “I’ll agree to begin a program of supervised visits when you’re in Australia.”

  She had to be dreaming. Supervised visits? “Are you finished?”

  “I think it’s the best way forward.”

  “You and my son belong with me in our home in Milano.”

  She shot to her feet. “That’s impossible. I’ve just signed a season contract with the Australian Ballet. I have a grant that allows me to provide a stable home for Alex and me. You and I have lived apart for over twelve months. I can begin divorce proceedings. Also, Alex is an Australian citizen, and you can’t take him out of the country without my approval.”

  Legally she was wrong. The Australian courts would give him access to his son. But he wouldn’t go to court unless it was his last resort.

  “Sì, bella, I understand everything. I’ve hurt you, and you can’t forgive me.”

  “So you won’t try to take our son from me?”

  “I’ll do everything in my power to have you and my son back in my home, where you belong.”

  “It’s impossible.” She turned to the window.

  The sun streamed in, her figure cast a long shadow across the room to where he sat.

  “I’ll have to convince you.”

  “You’re serious about this?” Katrina clutched her arms and shook her head.

  “Of course.” He stood up and felt his towel slip. He grabbed the ends and tucked them back in.

  Her eyes flicked to his groin then snapped back to his face.

  Maybe he should have let it fall. Use sex to settle her doubts. They never had a problem in the bedroom. Physically they were in perfect harmony. But he too would lose focus on his agenda and there was too much at stake.

  Katrina shook her head. “No. It can’t work. Your own Mother either doesn’t know I exist or wishes I didn’t. We’ll never be a real family and that’s what I want for Alex. You can’t treat a little boy the I was treated. You’ll even be gone before the end of the week.”

  She could have thrown a tub of cold water in his face. What she said had the effect of an icy slap. All at once he saw how it looked to her; a secret family to go along with their secret marriage. He didn’t want it to be that way. He wanted the world to know he had a beautiful baby boy and that meant eventually telling his Mother everything.

  “Katrina, I made a promise to my Mother when my father died on the racetrack. Her face looked pale with heartbreak and she cried in her room every day. Nothing I did could make her smile.

  “One day she asked me to promise that if I grew up to be a racing car driver I’d never hurt a woman they way she had been hurt. I already loved racing go carts and wanted to be like my father and his father before him, a Formula One champion. So I promised her that I wouldn’t get married until I retired from racing.”

  Katrina turned, surprise washing over her features. “So she didn’t know about our marriage.”

  “I never told her. When we met she’d recently recovered from a heart attack, I didn’t want her to get upset.”

  “You’re still racing now. Will you tell her about us? How is that going to work with being a dad to Alex?”

  “I’ll keep my commitments but retire at the end of this season. I’ll tell Mama after that. Until then I’ll stay in Australia with you and Alex and convince you.”

  “You’ll make Melbourne your base? The air travel will be hideous.”

  “I’ll survive.”

  “You really are determined then.” She turned and faced him. Trembling fingers hovered over her mouth. Her gaze scanned his bare chest. She shook her head and covered her eyes.

  He wanted to fold her in his embrace, tell her
she’d be safe. “Sì, bella. I’ll never let you go again.” He took a step toward her.

  His son was the Rinaldo heir. Katrina didn’t have a frame of reference to understand the legacy her son would one day inherit. A legacy he’d spent the last two years securing and safeguarding.

  Not long after their marriage, news that his uncle had failed to manage the company meant he’d had to put his marriage second and devote all his time away from the track to unweaving a web of loans and bad investments. By implementing a new structure, he prevented a hostile takeover of his father’s company.

  Also over the last two years, he’d been able to not only save Rinaldo Engineering, but he discovered a passion for design engineering. Needing something new to generate buzz for the company he designed a sports car that reinstated the company as the leader in its field. His mother’s home had been purchased back from the bank, and she’d been spared the knowledge of her brother’s mismanagement. Now he had taken over many smaller car manufacturing companies and employed the best managers. He had the means and the time to spend in Australia. His overseeing of their portfolio could be managed from anywhere he could access a computer.

  His power now reached global dimensions, he could take care of one little boy.

  “You accuse me of not being responsible enough to be Alex’s father. I’ll show you how wrong you are.”

  Katrina shivered as she clutched her arms and shook her head. “Can you put your son first? What if I let you into my son’s life, and then you break his heart when it all gets too hard?”

  “I’m here now. Putting my son first. That’s how it will be.” He challenged with an accusing gaze.

  He had seen his son, and parental love had exploded inside him along with a terrible fear of loss. The kind he’d experienced before. He couldn’t let that happen again.

  Katrina turned away. Desperation had sped across Alessandro’s face, but he’d quickly covered it up. She remembered feeling desperate like that on the night she chased Alessandro out into the rain. He’d gone to his Castello, to where his mother lived. No wonder she’d been told not to follow him there. His mother had no idea she existed.

  Nothing about her marriage was built on solid ground. If Alessandro could use a childhood promise to deny his wife’s existence she couldn’t mean very much to him. Ironically he had done the very thing his mother made him promise not to do. He’d broken Katrina’s heart. Now he was back and she wasn’t convinced that the past could be overcome. Thinking about it just put a lump in her throat.

  She hadn’t missed that he was desperate to have his son in his life. It put into sharp focus he enormity of what she’d done in having Alex without telling Alessandro. But the past couldn’t be undone.

  In the last eighteen months, she’d been getting to know her son. Dear little Alex loved her so much, and she loved him. She’d finally learned to be careful. No more rash decisions made in the heat of the moment. Being a mother came first. She had to think seriously before she acted.

  She was used to this life now. Nights out with fellow dancers were a thing of the past. Having a baby curtailed her spending on the latest fashion too. But she loved her life with Alex and didn’t want anything to ruin it.

  “Sometimes things happen for a reason.”

  “This mess is not something that should have happened, but we must try to make it right. Let me meet with my son. A supervised visit as you put it.”

  His offer cut straight to her heart. The lump in her throat ached. It was a cherished fantasy she had never dared hope for but now he was here, she couldn’t trust him. In her fantasy, the father loved the mother. Having Alessandro back in her life was all she’d wanted as she waited through the months of her gestation for him to show up.

  But as hope faded, resolve to raise Alex alone grew and became the rock she leaned on during the wakeful nights of two-hourly feeds and loving her son for them both. Alessandro let her go because she wanted his child. What right did he have to be in Alex’s life?

  “I’ll let you know.” She stood and walked toward the door.

  He leapt in front of her and blocked her exit. “Katrina mia, don’t go like this.” He reached out, but she stepped back.

  If he touched her, she might shatter like glass. His Katrina he called her. Her heart thundered, and her mouth went dry. His lips had been on every part of her body. No inch of skin had been neglected. She wanted to give in and have him again, but he didn’t love her.

  He didn’t want her, he wanted his son.

  “Alessandro, please just let me pass. I promise I’ll call you this afternoon. Just give me a little time to process all of this.”

  “All right, I’ll give you until four o’clock today to call me with your answer. After that, I’ll have to ask my lawyers to file custody papers.”

  Four

  “Custody?” Both hands cupped over her mouth, too slow to stop the word coming out. Alessandro wasn’t going to let this go. Alex had to stay with her. Her defenseless little boy in the hands of god knows who, a nanny she had no say in, no doubt, made her feel physically sick. Alex had only ever known her and his nanny, Janet.

  “The Australian courts will give me access to my son. Katrina, you have little choice.” He stepped aside to let her pass, now that he’d issued his not so subtle threat.

  She left the room, with her heart in her mouth. That Alessandro might get control over Alex made her want to throw up. Alessandro was rich and had clever lawyers. It was possible that he could take their boy away for slabs of time to be cared for by people Alex didn’t know while his father enjoyed being a world jet-setter on the F1 circuit.

  That last idea sparked another. Let Alessandro have an afternoon with Alex and her in the park. The next race on the F1 circuit would demand his attention, and so Alessandro would be consumed again by his career. The novelty of being a father would soon be outshone by his death-defying F1 racing career. In the weeks and months to come, his desire to be in his child’s life would become less and less. Alex would be lucky to get a card on his birthday.

  Sunlight filtered through the gum leaves and played across the back of Alessandro’s hand. He’d spent the last hour running around after Alex as he crawled like a commando through the middle of garden beds and collected snails and autumn leaves. It had been more tiring than he’d expected. Had she chosen a park so as she could put him through this nursemaid act?

  Even if she had, he didn’t care. The incredible pull to follow his son’s expeditions let him enjoy playing with his inquisitive and vigorous little boy. His little hand had gripped a snail fiercely when Alessandro had tried to take it off him. His small face had squeezed into a determined scowl. Apparently, he’d inherited the Rinaldo temperament along with his looks.

  He could still detect the smell of damp earth on his fingertips as he drained his coffee cup. He stashed it back in the picnic basket and leaned back on one elbow on the rug. An arm’s length away, Katrina sat supporting her back against the trunk of a ghost gum. Baby Alex had climbed into her lap and fallen asleep. His little head nestled in the crook of her arm. Dark, dark, lashes fanned across two plump, bright cheeks, which looked softer than fine velvet. Madonna and Child.

  Alessandro rolled over on his supporting elbow and kissed his son’s sweet cheek. Katrina had taken care of his son. Anyone could see how Alex thrived under her care. He remembered the little boy’s face lighting up yesterday when he came into the rehearsal studio and saw his mother.

  He wanted his son’s face to light up like that when he looked at his Papà. A bolt of pride swelled in his chest and curved his lips into a smile. His son, his heir, had been born in wedlock, and would one day inherit the Rinaldo estate including his family home, Castello Rinaldo. All of his father’s and grandfather’s achievements would live on in his son. His world had shifted. The next generation was the most important now.

  For the first time, Alessandro cared about more than his own challenges and battles. What he was creating for his son
mattered most now. There was so much more at stake. The welfare of his son made everything before feel petty compared to this. Being a dad connected him more than ever with his manhood. This is what Katrina had given him. He hadn’t wanted a family, but now he had one, he realized how much he’d have missed out on. She’d given him something so important, so essential and he hadn’t even been aware he’d needed it.

  He was marveling at his sons perfect breaths in and out, smelling of milk and biscuits, when the hair on the back of his head moved. He heard Katrina’s inward breath. A quick ache in his chest demanded a kiss to be satisfied. He resisted it. The reason they’d broken up and the reason they should be reunited slept between them. He mustn’t let his passion for her loose. Cool-headed control won the race.

  Nevertheless, he luxuriated for a moment in her nearness, breathing in the floral scent of her. Groaning inwardly, he rolled away from her and onto his back. He stared up at the patches of blue sky between the leaves. “Thank you for giving me a son.”

  “A son. What if he’d been a girl?”

  He imagined a little princess in a fluffy tutu and his heart warmed she’d be no less precious. “Perhaps a girl would have been your choice? She’d be just as wanted by me. It shocks me you’d ask such a question.”

  “My last memory of you is a slammed door at the idea of being a father and the roar of an engine as you left me alone. Excuse me if I sound skeptical.”

  Anger flared through him, and he sat up and looked her directly in the eye. His retort died on his lips when her eyes glistened with moisture. “You don’t trust me, bella, but once you did. It can happen again.” He ran the back of his hand lightly along her shin, letting his fingernails trail across her skin. Her bare toes curled under. He skimmed the pads of his fingers back up her leg, lifting the hem of her floral dress above her knee.

  “Alessandro, look.”

  She nodded in the direction past him, he turned, and from the corner of his eye, Alessandro saw a man taking a photo in their direction. He didn’t have the typical long lens cases a Paparazzi normally had hanging from their neck. A tourist with a lens for scenery shots moved away and took a photo of the fountain in front of the Conservatorium, then proceeded to take shots in other directions. Alessandro relaxed.