Venetian's Midnight Mistress Read online

  Dani was aware of Niccolo behind her in the room, just as she had been aware for several minutes of his rising impatience at her silence.

  She hadn’t meant for it to be this way. Had intended coming to Venice to see Niccolo, and stating confidently and calmly exactly how she intended things to be between them in future, then returning to her hotel to spend the night there before flying back to England tomorrow.

  But one glance at Niccolo when she’d entered the room—just one heart-stopping look at his ruggedly handsome face and lithely muscular body in the lightweight grey suit and pristine white shirt with its neatly knotted grey tie—and Dani had felt her throat close up and her mouth go completely dry, making it impossible for her to force a single word past her lips.

  Niccolo was perfectly correct. This silence could not continue!

  She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to turn, slightly disconcerted to find he had moved from behind the desk and was now standing only feet away, but determined to stand firm and say what needed to be said.

  ‘Okay,’ she breathed huskily. ‘This is the way it’s going to be. I will continue to live in England, but you may visit whenever you are in London—’

  ‘Stop right there!’ he cut in icily. ‘Daniella.’ His voice softened as he saw her pallor. ‘You are discussing a possible relationship between the two of us as if it were a business arrangement,’ he chided gently.

  Dani blinked, confused for a moment, until she realised exactly what Niccolo was saying. ‘You thought I was discussing the two of us having an affair?’ she said with a frown.

  He looked nonplussed. ‘What else—?’

  ‘No, Niccolo,’ she interrupted. ‘You have it all wrong. I have it all wrong,’ she corrected agitatedly. ‘I’m not doing this very well at all.’ She groaned, pushing the silky swathe of her fiery-red hair back impatiently. ‘I’m a bit flustered, Niccolo. I’m sorry.’ She looked at him appealingly.

  Niccolo returned that gaze searchingly, having already noted the paleness of Daniella’s cheeks, the dark shadows beneath those anguished green eyes, the way her hands were tightly clenched together in front of her until the knuckles showed white.

  ‘Perhaps you should sit down?’ he said slowly. ‘I will ask Melina to bring us some coffee—’

  ‘No, not coffee!’ Daniella grimaced in apology for her sharpness. ‘Tea would be nice,’ she accepted.

  Niccolo didn’t bother ringing for his secretary, but instead strode over to open the door and make his request verbally. Much to Melina’s surprise, he acknowledged ruefully, before closing the door and turning back to Daniella.

  She hadn’t moved from in front of the window, and she looked incredibly slender standing there, bathed in the soft September sunlight like a slender reed topped with flame. A slender, vulnerable reed…

  ‘I really do think you should sit down, Daniella,’ he pressed gently. ‘Before you fall down,’ he added more firmly, when she looked up at him slightly dazed.

  Dani swallowed hard, knowing Niccolo was right. At this moment her legs were feeling more than a little shaky. But she had been so anxious to establish the parameters between them that she had totally missed an explanation as to why those parameters were needed in the first place.

  ‘Thank you,’ she accepted, before moving jerkily to sit down on the chair in front of his desk. ‘Won’t you sit down, too?’ she invited, hoping that the formality of their sitting on either side of his imposing oak desk might make this easier for her.

  Although she somehow doubted it!

  She hadn’t given herself time to think once the decision to come to Venice to talk to Niccolo had been made—had simply booked her flight and turned up at his office ten minutes ago, asking to see him.

  But being here, face to face with Niccolo like this, it was all too easy to realise the enormity of what she was doing. To realise just how difficult all this was going to be.

  It might have helped if she had got her thoughts into some sort of order before coming here, for one thing; at least then she might not have made such a complete muddle of things.

  In her haste to get it over and done with, it seemed she had completely misled Niccolo into believing she had come here to work out the terms of an affair with him. When in fact the reason for her visit couldn’t be any further from the truth….

  Niccolo moved to sit behind his desk and studied Daniella in concern. She didn’t look well. In fact, he was sure she had lost weight since he’d last saw her. If just coming here to see him had made Daniella ill, then she was right; no matter what he might have hoped to the contrary, there could never be a relationship between the two of them.

  ‘Don’t look so worried, Niccolo,’ she murmured ruefully as she saw his look of concern. ‘I haven’t been feeling too well the last couple of weeks, but I’m not ill. Well—not ill, exactly. Can you really not guess the reason I’m here, Niccolo?’

  No, he really couldn’t.

  And he was feeling too perplexed, too disturbed by this unexpected visit to play guessing games with her!

  ‘Tell me,’ he ordered.

  Her eyes suddenly looked huge in the pallor of her face, her cheekbones standing out starkly above hollow cheeks. ‘The truth is, Niccolo, that I flew over from England this morning to—’ She broke off as Melina, after the briefest of knocks, entered carrying a tray of tea things. Daniella looked up to smile her thanks at the older woman as she placed the tray in front of her on the desk.

  Niccolo barely held his impatience in check until his secretary had left the room. ‘Pour it,’ he invited Daniella. ‘You look as if you need it,’ he added with a frown as she sat forward to pick up the teapot. ‘Has something happened to Eleni?’

  ‘No!’ Daniella gave him a startled look. ‘Oh, no, Niccolo, you mustn’t think that.’ She handed him one of the cups of tea before putting a liberal amount of sugar in her own cup and taking a grateful sip. She sat back with a sigh, a little of the colour returning to her cheeks. ‘No one is ill, Niccolo. I—The fact of the matter is—the truth is that I—I’m pregnant, Niccolo! Over a month pregnant to be exact,’ she added shakily.

  Niccolo stared at her uncomprehendingly.

  Dani’s eyes were wide with distress as she looked across at him searchingly, knowing what a shock this must be for him.

  What a shock it had been for her, too, yesterday morning, when she had finally plucked up the courage to use the pregnancy testing kit she had purchased from a chemist the day before.

  She hadn’t even realised she had missed a period until two days ago—had been keeping herself so busy, her thoughts carefully channelled in an effort not to think of Niccolo, that she had completely omitted to notice that her body wasn’t functioning as meticulously like clockwork as it usually did.

  Even once she had realised she had missed a period she had dismissed the idea that she might be pregnant as ridiculous; surely it was an old wives’ tale that it only took the once?

  Apparently it wasn’t!

  Not convinced by the first test she had done, Dani had used the second test in the box. That had shown a positive result too. Still hopeful that she might have got a faulty testing kit, she had made an emergency appointment to see her doctor, at which point he had calmly and kindly explained to her that neither of the tests was faulty, that she was indeed in the early stages of pregnancy.

  Which was when complete panic had set in!

  No doubt her grandfather would be thrilled by the news, but Dani’s first instinct had been to run. Her second and third instinct too! As fast and as far from Niccolo as she could possibly go.

  But she had very quickly realised the futility of doing that. She couldn’t just disappear, any more than she could carry on running for ever—and certainly not once the baby was born. She had to have some means of supporting the baby, as well as herself, and London was where her business was established. Besides, Eleni was far too astute, and knew Dani far too well, to ever accept her just disappearing like that
. By the same token, if Dani remained in London, from the timing alone Eleni would know that Niccolo was the father of Dani’s baby. And while Dani didn’t doubt her friend’s love for her, the love and loyalty Eleni also felt towards her brother would put her in an intolerable position.

  So, as running away wasn’t really an option, and keeping the truth from Niccolo was virtually an impossibility, Dani had decided she had no choice but to come to Venice and tell Niccolo herself of his impending fatherhood.

  So far there had been no response to her news except the shocked widening of his eyes and his continued silence. But knowing Niccolo as she did, that didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty going on behind those unfathomable brown eyes. Once Niccolo recovered from the shock of her announcement he was definitely going to have several things to say on the subject.

  She moistened dry lips. ‘Could you just say something, Niccolo?’ she asked. ‘Anything.’ She grimaced. ‘Just don’t keep looking at me in that stunned way.’

  But stunned was exactly how Niccolo felt!

  Stunned. Shocked. Numbed.

  Daniella had just told him—Had said—

  He swallowed hard, realising as he did so that he had forgotten to breathe for the last minute. His normally astute brain had for once ground to a halt.

  ‘Niccolo, please!’ Daniella pleaded at his continued silence.

  Niccolo knew he had to do something. Say something. He just had no idea what!

  He finally drew in a ragged breath before speaking. ‘Have you eaten lunch?’

  Daniella blinked. ‘I—What?’ She stared at him in disbelief.

  Niccolo breathed out. Then in again. That soft rising and falling of his chest was the only thing that seemed normal to him at this moment.

  ‘You said you flew over from England this morning,’ he pointed out evenly. ‘I wondered if you had eaten since your arrival?’

  Dani continued to stare at him. She had just told Niccolo that she was pregnant, with his child, and all he could do was ask her if she had eaten lunch?

  She had expected disbelief—goodness knows she had expected that! But she had also expected that disbelief to be quickly followed by anger, and then Niccolo’s arrogant demands for what he wanted.

  If anyone had asked her what his first words would be after she told him of her pregnancy, her answer certainly wouldn’t have been an invitation to lunch!

  ‘Niccolo, did you hear what I just said?’

  ‘Of course I heard you!’ he snapped as he stood up abruptly to move around to the front of the desk, a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw as he looked down at her with glittering dark eyes. ‘Daniella, you have had time to come to terms with your pregnancy; you must have known for several days at least—’

  ‘Twenty-four hours,’ she corrected softly, infinitely more comfortable with his explosion than with his silence, her chin rising challengingly as she added, ‘I only found out myself yesterday, Niccolo.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘That is something, I suppose,’ he allowed. ‘Have you seen a doctor? Are you well? You look to me as if you have lost weight, not gained it!’ he accused.

  This was more like the Niccolo D’Alessandro Dani knew!

  Some of the tension left her shoulders and she relaxed back in the chair. ‘I saw my doctor yesterday.’ She nodded. ‘And I’m very well.’ She gave a tremulous smile. ‘Weight loss can be perfectly natural in the early stages of—of pregnancy.’

  She couldn’t believe she was sitting here discussing her condition so calmly with Niccolo—still had trouble believing that she was pregnant at all.

  Niccolo was right. She had lost weight these last few weeks. She had put her loss of appetite and extreme tiredness, the fact that food didn’t even appeal to her, down to her stress over Niccolo’s imminent return and her near obsession with keeping herself too busy to think about what she was going to say to him when he did.

  It was natural to find food unappetising during the first few months of pregnancy, her doctor had assured her yesterday. And it was equally natural to feel tired and nauseous. She hadn’t felt the latter yet, but there was still plenty of time for that!

  ‘We will go out to lunch,’ Niccolo stated. ‘You need to eat, and we can discuss this further once you have done so.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘Do not argue with me on this, Daniella,’ he warned tightly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. ‘You must eat, and I—I need a few minutes in which to process what you have told me,’ he added harshly.

  Yes, Dani could see that he did. She even understood why he did. She would just have preferred not to make a social occasion out of it by the two of them actually going out to lunch together.

  She might have muddled things earlier, but she did know how she wanted this to go. She had come here to tell Niccolo of her pregnancy, to assure him that he could have visiting access at any time he liked once the baby was born, and then she would return to London and get on with her life until the birth.

  She should have known Niccolo would change the order of things—as he was doing so now, by insisting on taking her out to lunch!

  Niccolo watched as first her understanding for his dilemma, followed by a look of stubborn resolve and then frowning determination flickered across Daniella’s expressive face.

  The first he understood. It had to be obvious to even the most casual observer—and Daniella was hardly that—that he was totally stunned by the news of Daniella’s pregnancy.

  The second he also understood—he already knew how stubbornly self-reliant Daniella could be when she chose, and he suddenly remembered her words earlier: ‘I will continue to live in England, but you may visit whenever you are in London!’

  Her look of determination was also easily understood—Daniella would not give in meekly to any demands he might choose to make concerning the child she carried.

  But she would give in.

  Oh, yes, Daniella would give in.

  Eventually.

  Because it was his child as well as hers, and Niccolo had no intention of giving in meekly to any demands she might choose to make concerning their child, either!

  ‘This is nice,’ Dani murmured as she looked around the quiet bistro Niccolo had brought her to, his hand having lightly but firmly gripped her arm as he guided her well away from the tourist-busy St Mark’s Square to this small family-owned restaurant that overlooked one of the narrower canals. The owner had greeted Niccolo by name before showing them to one of the tables by the open windows.

  ‘Eat, Daniella,’ Niccolo instructed as the owner deposited breadsticks on the table, along with their menus.

  Dani ignored his order and instead picked up the menu to use as a shield as she shot Niccolo frowning glances. He had barely spoken on the ten-minute walk here along the path-sided canals, but she knew from the slight pallor beneath his naturally swarthy complexion that this was only a temporary respite—that in actual fact Niccolo did have plenty to say, and was just choosing the moment when he would say it. Probably he would get started once she had eaten, as he seemed so determined to get some food down her!

  ‘Stop thinking so much, Daniella, and instead choose what you would like for lunch.’

  Dani looked up, not fooled for a moment by the pleasantness of his tone.

  ‘Niccolo—’

  ‘I believe there are certain foods that pregnant women have to avoid?’ he prompted lightly.

  ‘Smoked meat and fish, pâtés, soft cheeses, uncooked eggs,’ she confirmed distractedly, having received a list of dos and don’ts from the doctor yesterday. ‘But—’

  ‘Then perhaps you would like the linguine with mushrooms and chicken?’

  ‘Niccolo—’

  ‘We will order our food before continuing this conversation, Daniella.’ His tone was steely, uncompromising.

  She drew in a breath to reply, but was prevented from further argument by the arrival of the proprietor to take their order, and waited until they were alone again be
fore carefully placing her hands down on the red and white checked cloth that covered the small, square table to lean forward and look Niccolo directly in the eye. ‘I do sincerely sympathise with the shock this has been to you—’

  ‘Do you?’ Niccolo drawled, perfectly relaxed as he leant back in his chair.

  ‘Well, of course I do.’ She groaned. ‘It isn’t every day you learn you’re going to become a father.’

  ‘No,’ he conceded dryly. ‘But it is not so much of a shock now as it originally was,’ he admitted, that dark gaze lazily assessing. ‘In fact, now that I have…adjusted to the idea, I find that the prospect of having a son or daughter is rather a pleasant one.’

  Yes, Niccolo had certainly recovered from his earlier speechlessness, Dani acknowledged uneasily. And as she knew only too well, a totally self-possessed Niccolo was a force to be reckoned with.

  What on earth had made her imagine that telling Niccolo herself about her pregnancy was the easiest option? What had possessed her to think that she could come here and tell Niccolo about the baby and that he would then just calmly allow her to return to England to continue her pregnancy without any interference from him?

  Because the almost complacent way in which he had said that he found the idea of having a child a pleasant one certainly implied he didn’t intend letting her escape that easily!

  ‘Niccolo, I don’t think you’ve quite understood what’s going to happen here,’ she told him. ‘You are biologically going to become a father in around eight months’ time, yes, but not—not a hands-on father. Not a permanent, day-today fixture in this child’s life!’ she added slightly desperately.

  Niccolo shook his head and smiled, seeming totally unconcerned by the vehemence in Daniella’s announcement. ‘I think that it is you who does not understand, Daniella,’ he contradicted her. ‘The child you are carrying is a D’Alessandro. More than that, as my son or daughter, he or she will be the D’Alessandro heir.’

  She nodded. ‘I do understand that, Niccolo—’

  ‘No, you obviously do not.’ He sat forward to lean across the table, his face only inches from hers now. ‘As soon as the arrangements can be made, Daniella, you and I will be married,’ he stated.