The Sicilian's Surprise Love-Child (Mills & Boon Modern) (One Night With Consequences, Book 58) Read online

  His forbidden innocent…

  And the consequence of their surrender!

  Aurora Messina is everything cynical tycoon Nico Caruso shouldn’t want. Impulsive and far too innocent, she’s trouble…and temptation. Especially now that she’s working at his new hotel. But Nico’s infamous control isn’t a match for their combustible chemistry, and it soon ignites in a sizzlingly illicit encounter…

  Then Aurora discovers she’s pregnant! She knows Nico has never wanted a family—he still bears the scars of his own childhood. But will Aurora’s revelation give this proud Sicilian a reason to risk everything?

  CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form asking for her job title. Thrilled to be able to put down her answer, she put ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation, and she put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked for her hobbies. Well, not wanting to look obsessed, she crossed her fingers and answered ‘swimming’—but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

  Also by Carol Marinelli

  Their One Night Baby

  Claiming His Hidden Heir

  Claimed for the Sheikh’s Shock Son

  Billionaires & One-Night Heirs miniseries

  The Innocent’s Secret Baby

  Bound by the Sultan’s Baby

  Sicilian’s Baby of Shame

  Ruthless Royal Sheikhs miniseries

  Captive for the Sheikh’s Pleasure

  Christmas Bride for the Sheikh

  The Ruthless Devereux Brothers miniseries

  The Innocent’s Shock Pregnancy

  The Billionaire’s Christmas Cinderella

  Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

  The Sicilian’s Surprise Love-Child

  Carol Marinelli

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  ISBN: 978-1-474-08824-4

  THE SICILIAN’S SURPRISE LOVE-CHILD

  © 2019 Carol Marinelli

  Published in Great Britain 2019

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

  All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

  By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

  ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Note to Readers

  This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

  Change of font size and line height

  Change of background and font colours

  Change of font

  Change justification

  Text to speech

  For my great friend, Frances Housden.

  Love you, Cuzzy.

  C xxx

  Contents

  Cover

  Back Cover Text

  About the Author

  Booklist

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note to Readers

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Extract

  About the Publisher

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘AURORA WILL BE shadowing me today.’

  Nico Caruso did not look up from his computer as Marianna, his PA, walked into his opulent Rome office. Instead he frowned.

  ‘Aurora Messina from the Sicilian hotel,’ Marianna elaborated, clearly assuming from Nico’s frown that Aurora’s was a name he did not know.

  Oh, but he did.

  Aurora Messina. Aged twenty-four—six years younger than him.

  Aurora Eloise Messina, with her velvet brown eyes and thick dark hair that was not quite raven, though too dark to be called chestnut. Ah, yes… Aurora, with her olive skin that went pink in the sun.

  ‘Don’t you remember me, Nico?’

  There was a tease in that familiar rasp to her throaty voice, and she brought with her the scent of home. The white crochet dress that she wore must have been hung out on the washing line, for it had caught not just the hot Sicilian sun but also the breeze from the ocean and the sweet scent of jasmine from her parents’ garden.

  ‘How rude of you to forget me,’ Aurora continued, ‘given that you have slept in my bed so many times.’

  Marianna sucked in her breath at Aurora’s cheeky implication, but Nico didn’t miss a beat with his dry reply, ‘Ah, but never with you in it.’

  ‘True…’ Aurora conceded with a smile.

  She had trained herself not to blush when Nico was near, but it was a struggle not to now. The stunning view of Rome panning out behind him went almost unnoticed and the lavish, expensive surroundings barely registered, for Nico, on this Monday morning, was proving more than enough for her senses to take in.

  His thick black hair had been cut with skill and his strong jaw, with that slight dent in the centre, was so clean-shaven that she was actually anticipating the brief brush that would come when they shared a light cheek-to-cheek kiss.

  Aurora came around the desk to greet him properly.

  Of course she did.

  After all, the two of them went way back.

  But when Nico raised his hand to halt her approach, when his black eyes warned her not to come any closer, Aurora stepped back as if she’d been slapped.

  She knew she was bolshie, and often came across as too forward, but after a lot of soul-searching as to how best to face him, she had decided to greet him as she would any old f
riend.

  But Nico had halted her and that had hurt Aurora.

  She tried not to let it show.

  ‘Take a seat,’ he told her, and then turned to his PA. ‘Marianna, let’s get started. We have a lot to get through.’

  ‘First, though…’ Aurora said. And instead of taking a seat, as instructed, she removed a large leather bag from her shoulder, took out a bottle of tomato sauce, and placed it on his immaculate, highly polished walnut desk. And then she took out another bottle.

  ‘Homemade passata from my mother,’ Aurora said, ‘and here is some limoncello from my father.’

  Nico glanced over to Marianna, who was trying to keep the shock from her expression as Aurora turned his gleaming desk into a market stall. And then his black gaze returned to Aurora.

  ‘I don’t need these,’ Nico said, and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘You can take them back with you.’

  ‘No!’

  He had rejected her greeting. And now this!

  Nico was not doing as he should. He was not saying that he missed the taste of that homemade sauce, and nor was he inviting her to join him in sharing the feast that the sauce would create.

  He was not playing by the endless ingrained codes of home.

  But then, she reminded herself, Nico never had.

  For if that were the case then Aurora would be his wife.

  Aurora Eloise Caruso.

  As a teenager she had practised writing that name in her journals and saying it out loud. Now her cheeks flushed, just a little, as she tried to keep the note of anger from her voice. ‘You know very well that my family would never let me visit you without gifts.’

  ‘This is work—not a visit,’ Nico snapped. ‘You are here for five days to train for the opening of a new hotel; it is not a social occasion. Now, get these things off my desk.’

  Nico knew he was being harsh, but he had to set the tone—and not just with Aurora.

  The Silibri contingent had been in Rome for just eighteen hours and already he was fed up with the lot of them.

  Francesca, who was to be Regional Manager, had brought, of all things, a salami, and left it for him at the reception desk. Did she assume that Nico could not get salami in Rome?

  And Pino, who would be chief concierge at the new hotel, had somehow found his private number. Nico guessed he had got it from Aurora. He had given it to her once.

  Once…

  Nico refused to think of that time now.

  The fact was, on their arrival yesterday evening Pino had called and asked Nico where they should go for dinner and what time he would be joining them!

  Nico had rather sternly declined to do so.

  The village of Silibri had come to Rome, and it seemed determined to bring him several slices of home.

  Except Nico had been trying to run from home since he was sixteen.

  Was it guilt or duty that always pulled him back?

  He truly did not know.

  ‘Get these off my desk, Aurora,’ he repeated. It was a warning.

  ‘But I don’t want them.’ She shook her head. ‘I have shoes to buy, and I need the space in my suitcase.’ She fixed him with narrowed eyes. ‘Assuming I’m allowed to shop during non-work hours?’

  He almost smiled at her sarcastic tone, but did not.

  A smile.

  A kiss.

  When combined with Aurora, Nico knew full well the trouble they made…

  So he met her glare with one of his own and hoped she’d hear the message in his veiled words. ‘When you’re not working, Aurora, I don’t care what you do.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘For now…’ Nico flicked his hand at the desk. ‘…can we get rid of these and start work? We’re already running behind.’

  ‘I’ll take them.’

  Marianna was rarely flustered as she was now. Aurora had that effect on people.

  ‘And I’ll get the swatches for the meeting…’

  ‘Swatches?’ Nico checked.

  ‘It’s decision day for the Silibri uniforms.’

  ‘What decision?’ Nico inhaled deeply and tried not to show his irritation. Really? Since when did he get involved in orders for uniforms?

  ‘They don’t like the green,’ Marianna said.

  ‘But it’s the same as in all my hotels. I want continuity—’

  Nico halted himself, deciding that he would save it for the meeting. He nodded to Marianna, who gathered the bottles and, with Nico’s desk back to its usual order, headed out.

  He was surprised when Aurora did not follow, and instead took a seat. ‘I thought you were supposed to be shadowing Marianna?’

  Aurora could hear the irritation beneath the silk of his low tone and she spoke hurriedly. ‘I wanted a moment alone to apologise for being indiscreet. I was making a little joke about the times when you used to stay at our house.’

  She grimaced then, because despite her best efforts that hadn’t come out right. There really wasn’t anything to make a joke about. Her father had used to find the young Nico asleep in the park after a beating from his father and had insisted he come and sleep at their home. Aurora would be moved to a made-up bed at the foot of her parents’ and Nico would be given her room.

  ‘Apology accepted,’ Nico said, and got back to his spreadsheets.

  He was still angry, though, Aurora knew, and she was cross with herself too, for she had been so determined to be serene when she saw him.

  Nico did not make her feel serene.

  ‘Anyway…’ Aurora continued, and under the desk she gave his knee a playful little tap with her foot. ‘We were never in bed together—you took my virginity on the couch!’

  Her breath hitched as he caught her ankle with his hand and gripped it tight for a second. She wished—how she wished—that he would run that hand up her calf, but he scolded her instead.

  ‘I didn’t take it, Aurora. You very willingly gave it to me.’ He pointedly removed her foot and released his grip. ‘You pleaded with me, in fact.’ He turned back to the computer. ‘It’s forgotten now.’

  Liar.

  For Nico, sex was necessary and frequent—if a touch emotionless. And it was always a smooth and controlled affair, taking place in his suite at the hotel, never at his home.

  It did not compare to the panting, hot, sweaty coupling that had taken place with Aurora.

  Nothing could ever compare.

  ‘Forgotten?’ Aurora checked.

  ‘It happened just the once and it was a long time ago.’

  ‘Four years, Nico.’

  Yes, it had been four years since that night, and Nico had been paying for it ever since.

  That one slip had cost him millions.

  Tens of millions, in fact.

  Though the cost of a new hotel had been preferable to another night under the Messina roof.

  He did not glance up as she stood and walked to the window.

  This was hell.

  Nico was aware he had treated her terribly.

  He should never have slept with her.

  They had been supposed to marry. Of course they had never had a say in it, but as they’d grown up it had become a given. Her nonna’s house had been left to her father, Bruno, and he had kept it for them to reside in after their wedding day.

  Nico had been able to think of nothing worse. Stuck in that damned village, living opposite the in-laws and working all day on the vines.

  Aurora had taken it well when he’d told her they would never marry. She had laughed and said something along the lines of Thank God for that.

  It had been the sun that had made her eyes sparkle, Nico told himself. She had been sixteen then, and a skinny, slip of a girl. He hadn’t seen her for a few years after that.

  Oh, but when he had…

  He g
lanced over to where she stood, looking out towards the Vatican City, and though he wanted to turn back to his computer screen he could not resist a double-take.

  There was nothing, Nico thought, more beautiful than a beautiful Sicilian woman.

  She was dark-eyed and dark-haired, with voluptuous curves that had never seen a gym let alone a scalpel or silicone. Beneath her full bust in the white crochet dress there was a thin strap of leather, tied in a bow. He could think of no other woman who might look so sexy in such a dress, but she certainly did. He wanted to pull on that bow…he wanted to bare her breasts and pull her onto his knee. To kiss that mouth and properly welcome her to Rome.

  His eyes drifted down to her shoes, which were neutral. Her legs, though, were not—their olive skin was bare and her calves were toned. His gaze followed the line of her long limbs until it rested where he knew he would find dark silken curls; he knew, too, the grip of those thighs.

  She was fire. And he must do all he could not to let it catch him. For what Nico craved in his life was order.

  Aurora could feel his eyes on her and she liked the vague, unsettled feeling that tightened low in her stomach and brought a hot and heavy sensation between her legs.

  She had seen him since that fateful night—of course she had. But since the morning after they had never been alone.

  Now, for a few precious moments, they were.

  Aurora had practised this moment in her head and in the mirror so many times, and had sworn to rein herself in. But what had she gone and done?

  Teased and cajoled and tried to draw a reaction from this cold immutable man, who had ruined her for anyone else.

  Yet she could not bring herself to regret losing her virginity to him. Aurora would never regret that.

  She attempted a more bland conversation. ‘I like Rome…’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Though I love it in the early morning. I went exploring this morning…’

  Nico looked back to his computer screen.

  ‘I felt as if I had the city all to myself. Well, not quite…’

  She thought of the cafés and markets opening, and the street cleaners she had encountered on her early-morning walk—the walk during which she had promised herself that when she saw Nico later she would be serene and controlled. Sophisticated. Like the slender beauties he dated, whom she read about while bile churned in her stomach.