Нина Сингх – Reunited With Her Italian Billionaire (страница 5)

And now Brianna had to contend with her soon-to-be ex-husband. Had it only been just this morning he’d shown up at her door? She felt as though she’d lived a whole year since. She let a moment pass on the front porch before inserting her key and entering the house. There was no way she could tell him she’d lost her job.

The sounds of Marco and Enzo playing together resonated through the hallway, Marco’s husky voice punctuated by childish squeals of laughter.

She hung up her coat and made her way to the kitchen. The two of them were sitting at the center table, which presently held an array of toys. When Enzo saw her he lifted his arms and yelled, “Mama!”

Brianna went over and gave her son a fierce hug, avoiding eye contact with Marco.

“I thought you weren’t going to be home until very late.”

She shrugged. “I asked to leave early.”

“Hmm.”

Brianna looked up. “What?”

He’d rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his collar. His hair was already in disarray, the telltale lock falling forward over his eye. He looked devilish. And incredibly sexy. Her fingers itched to go smooth his hair back, to touch him. She clasped her hands together behind her back.

“Why did you ask to leave early?” he asked.

“Because I didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed watching him all by yourself.” That was one doozy of a lie. She’d never seen Marco overwhelmed by anything. This was the man who had taken over the family business and doubled it in size. He knew several languages, could seal any deal, and he was an ace boater who won trophies every year.

And somehow he’d ended up married to an orphaned nobody who couldn’t keep a job.

“As you can see, we’re doing fine,” Marco said, then handed Enzo a toy train. “And you’re a bad liar, dear wife.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But that’s what you are—my unemployed wife.”

The blood drained from her face. How could he know?

“You no longer have a job, do you?”

She swallowed. “Of course I do. There wasn’t that much—”

Marco didn’t let her finish. “Darling, your chef Ansigne called here. It appears you left your box of knives and tools behind. He’d like you to come get them as soon as possible as he needs the locker for your replacement.”

“Fine. I was fired today. Does that make you happy?”

“Of course not. But you don’t need to worry about finances.”

“That’s what you say.”

“It’s a fact. You’re the mother of my child. Technically, you’re still my wife.”

“I won’t be much longer.”

“Even so, there’s no need to rush. You and Enzo will always be financially secure. I’ll see to it.”

Of course he would see to it—it meant he could toss her aside with no guilt.

How in the world had she ended up in this predicament? Her career was on the cusp of taking off before she’d gotten pregnant. Apparently, a three-year break could be career suicide.

“Take care of your son, Marco. You have no need to take care of me. I can fend for myself. I always have.”

“Ever the independent one.”

“In any case, you don’t really need to concern yourself,” she said, just to spite him. “Seeing as our adventure is over.”

“Enzo, why don’t you go play with the train track we set up in the other room?” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. The child immediately obeyed. Which was very surprising, for Enzo.

Marco moved around the table and closed the distance between them. Brianna’s heart pounded as he approached. Why couldn’t she keep her emotions in check when it came to this man?

“As brief as our affair was to be, the fact remains that it resulted in a child.” His voice was cold and tight.

“It should have never resulted in marriage.”

“I apologize if my wish to legitimize my son put a cramp in your lifestyle.”

She sucked in a breath at those words. “What makes you think it did?”

Her regret came too late. The falsehood broke the last of Marco’s hold on his temper. In less than a second, he had moved to within inches of where she stood.

“You dare toy with me about such things?” he demanded, his breath hot against her cheek.

To Brianna’s horror, her wayward body immediately reacted. A curl of deep, scorching heat erupted in her belly and traveled slowly lower. She wanted to move but seemed unable to. All she could feel was his heat.

“Marco, just stop. I can’t fight with you right now,” she pleaded, totally depleted of energy all of a sudden. Having him here was wreaking havoc on her senses. A part of her longed for him, had ached to see him and feel him again. But another part, a more logical one, knew better.

That was the part she needed to focus on. It took all of her will to step away. Scooting back around the table, she fought to catch her breath.

Marco stayed where he was. She suspected Enzo’s presence in the next room was to thank for that. His breathing was harsh.

“Bree, I don’t want to fight either. It’s just—”

She held up a hand to stop him from saying any more. “I wish you hadn’t shown up here unannounced.”

“But I am here.”

“Right, to see Enzo. Well, you have. Please leave.”

He looked away and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Is that what you really want?”

“Yes,” she managed to choke out.

He nodded once. “And what of all the loose ends?”

“Which are?”

His eyes fell on Enzo. “Visitation arrangements.”

Of course. “I promise you I’ll compromise fully,” she said. “I have no interest in keeping him away from you.”

He remained silent a moment, his eyes still fixed on his son. “Thank you for that.” Then he glanced back at her. “There is also the matter of finances.”

“I fully intend to go back to work.”

“How? You have no sitter.”

“I told you, I have a backup. I’ve already spoken to him. He can start full-time tomorrow.”

Marco’s eyebrows shot up just as Brianna realized what she’d said.

“He?” Marco asked.

“Now don’t start anything.”

“So you have a gentleman friend who watches my son.”

She really didn’t want to go down this path. No good could possibly come of it. “He’s hardly a gentleman friend, Marco. He’s a local college student studying elementary education, and he happens to love being around children.”

“Who else does he love being around?”

“He’s merely a caregiver,” Brianna said through gritted teeth. “A very good one. And he’s very dependable. Unlike Mrs. Schelling.”

Marco leaned over and gripped the table with both hands.

“Curtis only sits for me.”