Free Gianni's Pride by Kim Lawrence Page A

of undiluted breath-robbing lust.
    Bemused and deeply alarmed by the strength of her reaction, she turned her head sharply, allowing her hair to fall in a bright fiery shield around her flushed face as she tried to slow her rapid breathy inhalations.
    ‘I’m busy.’ She flashed him a dismissive look, taking care not to meet his eyes, and turned back to her task.
    Gianni, long accustomed to women making the running, was astounded. It was one thing to decide regretfully to keep her at arm’s length; it was another to be rebuffed.
    ‘I suppose you heard that?’ he drawled, tipping his head in the direction of the room he had just left.
    ‘Hard not to,’ Miranda said, trying to cram the lid on the case while studiedly ignoring the tingling feeling on the nape of her neck and the aching sensitivity of her breasts.
    ‘I can’t understand it. He usually goes out like a light …’ he mused, his voice trailing away as his interest was captured by the seductive sway of her hips.
    Nobody would have described her as voluptuous, but she was in her sleek way one of the most naturally feminine women he had ever met.
    Miranda reached the limit of her tongue-biting and straightened up with a snap, the ringlets of her fiery hair settling with an energetic bounce around her shoulders.
    ‘Is part of his bedtime routine normally a rough-and-tumble game that has him wound up tighter than a spring?’
    His brow furrowed. ‘Bedtime routine?’
    Miranda was torn between amusement and disbelief at his bemused expression. ‘A quiet time to help him wind down; milky drink, warm bath …’ She arched a questioning brow and tilted back her head to look him in the face.
    The furrow between his dark brows smoothed before it appeared again, only deeper, as now he was struck by the possibility that his model father status had more to do with the expert help he received than his own natural talent for parenting.
    Not only did he have the services of a full-time nanny and a housekeeper who was always willing to lend a hand, but his mother took Liam most weekends. This practice began when Liam was a baby and had only ever been intended to be short term, but it had become something of a routine.
    ‘Clare has normally done that stuff by the time I get in—’
    ‘So Clare is your girlfriend? Sorry—it’s none of my business.’
    ‘That has never stopped any woman I know sticking hernose in. Clare is Liam’s nanny. She’s been with us since he was born.’ His brow furrowed. ‘I think he’s missing her.’
    And now he’d had to let the nanny go, along with his car and, for all she knew, his home. ‘You’ve got the essentials right.’ If parenting was, as she believed, about caring, Gianni Fitzgerald could not be faulted. ‘The other things you can learn. I suppose this is all pretty new to you.’
    He reacted with visible suspicion to her unthinking comment. ‘Why would you suppose that?’
    ‘Look, there’s no need to pretend.’
    On the receiving end of a look of warm, sympathetic understanding, not familiar ground for him, Gianni shook his head and struggled to stop his eyes straying to the plump swell of her small but perfectly formed breasts underneath the silky green top.
    He put down his uncharacteristic lack of control to the long and trying day.
    It had begun well, though. A reminiscent smile tugged at the corners of his lips as the memory of waking up next to her naked warm body took hold. He looked at her pink lips and thought about their tongues tangling, the heat and moisture, the taste … A stab of lust sent a lick of hungry heat through his body.
    The silence stretched uncomfortably. Miranda read the tension in his taut, edgy expression. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything,’ she admitted remorsefully.
    Gianni hardly heard. ‘You look nice,’ the man famed for his charm and smooth lines with the opposite sex heard himself say.
    Nice …? Had he been taken over by an alien life form? ‘Very …’ his eyes made a