Modern Romance September 2020 Books 5-8 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-07-11T22:01:11+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

MIA REELED AS her heart kicked.

Was this some sort of sick, twisted new game? Was Rocco now colluding to make her appear unstable so he could take Gianni away from her?

Over my dead body!

She would go through every legal channel, sell every last possession she owned to pay for lawyers before she let that happen.

‘Mia.’ Her name, like his statement, was delivered with such care, such precision, that a cold slice of fear knifed through her thoughts.

‘Are you serious?’ she tossed back.

Rocco took a step forward, until there was less than a foot between them. She craned her neck to stare into his face and almost wished she hadn’t.

This close to him, she could see every magnificent masculine feature, breathe in the scent of skin and cologne that was all Rocco, feel it attack her flailing senses from all sides. His eyes, cold, direct and hypnotising, blunted every last weapon she intended to use against him.

One long-fingered hand gripped her chin and Mia was again lost.

Three long years she’d dreamed of his touch. Against her will, in the cold of winter, the long, hot, lazy summer night, she’d yearned for these same fingers that had caressed her to ecstasy, touched her, teased her, made her cry out to join her soul with this man.

And now he was touching her again and she could hardly remain still for the surge of excitement that fizzed through her veins. She wanted to lean into his touch, press his fingers more deeply against her, imprint his skin on hers until she didn’t know where he ended and she began.

‘Answer me, Mia. Do you know this child?’

Mia jerked away, stung and ashamed.

What was she doing playing right into the hands of her enemy? Rocco no longer had sexual power over her, so why was she standing there, gazing up at him like…like…?

She took a hasty step back, tried to remain calm as her gaze dropped to the picture. A cherubic face smiled back at her with cheeky impertinence. The child’s dark blue eyes twinkled with mirth and the mop of black curls danced in a slight breeze. She wanted to reach out and caress the slightly dimpled chin, which some day would deepen like his father’s.

Did she know this child?

Of course she knew him.

She’d carried him in her womb for nine months, loved him with every fibre of her being long before he’d delivered the first of many vicious kicks inside her, and adored every strand of hair, every soft velvety inch of him from the moment he was placed in her arms.

‘Of course I know him,’ she replied, her voice strong and steady with the power of emotion she felt for her son.

Shock detonated in Rocco’s eyes.

For a moment there, she’d almost given into the urge to deny knowledge of her own son to keep him safe. After all, Rocco had never met him, so he didn’t know what Gianni looked like.

But her innate honesty and fierce pride as Gianni’s mother had overridden that urge immediately.

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