Free The Marchese's Love-Child by Sara Craven

As my son, he needs to learn about his heritage. I am merely inviting you to accompany him.'

    'As what? Some kind of glorified nanny?' she demanded. She shook her head. 'I think I'd rather have my day in court.'

    'He already has a nanny,' Sandro told her evenly. 'And another waiting in Italy to love him. But what he really needs is the stability of both parents in his life. So, Paola mia, I am asking you once again, as I did three years ago, to be my wife.'

    For a long, dazed moment Polly was too shaken to speak.

    At last, she said huskily, 'Is this some grotesque joke?'

    'No,' he said. 'We are, if you remember, already engaged to each other,' he added cynically.

    Her breathing quickened. 'Was I really supposed to believe that—that nonsense? I—I don't think so. And whatever happened between us, it was all over a long time ago, and you know it. You can't simply revive it—on a whim.'

    'Very well, then,' Sandro returned equably. 'Let us forget it ever took place. Pretend that, for the first time, I am making you an offer of marriage, Paola mia.'

    She shook her head. 'But you don't—you can't want to marry me.'

    'I have no particular desire to be married at all,' he retorted. 'But there are good reasons why I should sacrifice my freedom.'

    'Your freedom?' Polly almost choked. 'What about mine?'

    He looked around him. 'You call this liberty? Working long hours. Living in little more than one room? I don't think so.'

    'I could always sue you for child support.' She drew a breath. 'That would improve my circumstances by a hundred per cent.'

    'But I am already offering to support our child—as the Marchese Valessi,' he said silkily. 'Besides, our marriage would remove any possible objections to Carlino's right to inherit when the time comes, and it would mean that his well-being and nurture becomes the concern of us both from day to day.' He paused. 'I suggest it as a practical alternative to a custody battle.'

    'Which I might win,' she said swiftly.

    'You might, but could you fight the appeal which would follow?' Sandro countered. 'Or the appeal against the appeal?' His smile was chilly. "The case might last for years.'

    'Or until I run out of money, of course,' she said bitterly. 'You don't need a cattle prod, signore.'

    His brows lifted. 'You regard marriage to me as some kind of torture, signorina’ he asked softly. "Then perhaps I should make something clear to you at once. What I am offering is only a matter of form. A way of legalising the situation between us. But it would not be a love match. Too much has taken place for that. We would share nothing more than a roof, if that is what concerns you.'

    He gave her a level look. 'I accept now that any feelings we had for each other belong in the past. That we are different people, and we have both moved on.'

    'You say that now.' Her voice was husky. 'Yet only last night you told me I was still in your blood.'

    'But a lot has happened since then,' Sandro said harshly. 'And my feelings towards you have naturally changed as a result.' He paused. 'Now our child remains the only issue between us, and his ultimate welfare should be our sole consideration. You agree with that, I hope?'

    Polly nodded numbly.

    'Bene,' he said briskly. 'In return, I promise that your life as the Marchesa Valessi will be as easy as I can make it. You will be made a suitable allowance, and asked occasionally to act as my hostess.' His smile was hard. 'But you may spend your nights alone.'

    She swallowed. 'And—you?'

    'I hardly think that concerns you,' he said coldly. 'However, I will ensure that any liaisons I have are conducted discreetly.'

    She bit her lip. 'As ours was?'

    'Dawero,' he nodded. 'Precisely.'

    She said with difficulty, 'And what about me—if I met someone?'

    His brows lifted. 'I should require you to behave with equal discretion. I would tolerate no open scandal in my family.'

    He paused. 'So what is your answer, Paola? Will you be my wife?'

    'I don't