Il Bestione (The Golden Door Duet Book 2) by Susan Fanetti

Author:Susan Fanetti [Fanetti, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-18T18:30:00+00:00

He was standing at the liquor chest, working on his second brandy, when she came from the room. She wore his black silk dressing gown. It was vastly too big for her and dragged on the floor, but he could tell by the way the silk lay on her skin, and the peek of bare leg as she moved through the room, that she’d taken the corset and stockings off and was bare beneath that silk.

His cock swelled again.

There was no fear on her face, no hurt or sorrow. She hadn’t been crying, that he could see. Her expression was calm and resolute, but her dark eyes held fire.

He thought of the gun in the chest on his bureau and wondered if she’d found it.

Silently, he watched her cross the room to him. Her eyes held his. When she got there, without shifting her gaze, she took the snifter from his hand and drank down the rest of the brandy.

“What if you put a child in me?”

He thought of his sister, the unwanted baby that had been raped into her on their first night in America. He’d tried to help her, to bring her medicine to release her from that burden, but she’d spurned his help and turned to a stranger instead.

She’d named after their mother the daughter she’d borne. And the man who truly had saved her called that daughter his own.

He would not fail this woman, or his child if he’d made one.

“I would help you get rid of it, if you wanted it to go away.”

“And if I didn’t want to do that?”

“Then I will marry you.” He’d had no intent or desire to marry, but he would not abandon his child—or its mother. He would not fail them.

Now she looked away. She turned to the chest and poured brandy into both snifters.

“What if I don’t want to marry you?”

She’d asked with her back to him. Paolo didn’t know how to answer; would she rather raise a child on her own? What life could she possibly make for herself and the child? No doubt Luciano would support her, but her child would be a bastard, and the world would not be kind to either of them.

“I won’t abandon my child. I would take care of you, whether you married me or not.”

“And I can trust that?”

“Yes.”

Her scoff was so soft it was barely a whisper, but Paolo heard it.

“I’m sorry,” he said without thinking. Without thinking, without her eyes on him, the words weren’t so difficult to say.

Then she turned to him again. She handed him a snifter and had one for herself. She tapped his glass with hers and took a long drink.

“You owe me,” she said.

“What?” He didn’t know if he was asking what she meant, or what he owed.

“I gave you my trust, and you did that with it. You owe me what I thought we’d have tonight. If you want my trust again, prove to me you’ll keep it dear. Come back to bed and show me.

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