The Surprise Conti Child (5 page)

Innocent—that's what Alexis had been. And without meaning to, she had wielded it so well.

“Knowing the state you were in,” Luca was relentless, saying, “you shouldn't have touched her.”

“I know that.”

“You used her, plain and simple.”

Just like our father
, his unsaid accusation hung heavy in the air. For Luca loathed even mentioning their father's name.


No
,” his hoarse refusal rang in the silence. He saw Alexis tense at the balcony and gritted his teeth. “I never made any false promises to her.
Cristo
, I didn't even...”

He couldn't put into words how alive he had felt every time Alexis had looked at him with those innocent brown eyes. How acute and agonizing the thrill had been when he touched her.

How much he'd needed to be needed, wanted like that after Rosa's death. Only when he had seen the look in her eyes had he realized how much he craved to lose himself.

How vulnerable he'd been in the face of such honest attraction as hers.

Not her, him.

He'd been the vulnerable one, he'd been the one who'd been seduced so easily and she hadn't even been trying.

No, even if he found the words, he couldn't tell Luca.

It was much too private, much too raw. Just remembering that night—the out-of-control, desperate desire, the stingingly sharp awareness made his muscles curl in memory. “It was not as dirty as you make it out to be, Luca.”

“It seems so from where I stand. And from where she does, more importantly. She's the mother of your child, Leandro. At least now, treat her with respect. Aren't you the one always carping about the Conti legacy?

“Do not continue what he started, do not let this become our legacy.”

Last night had been shock. Today, shame pounded through him. His whole life, he'd never treated another person, man or woman, the way he had Alexis.

All because first he'd weakened and then walked away from the consequences.

The very same traits that he'd despised in the man who'd fathered Luca and him.

“Whatever poison Antonio might spout, tell me you don't distrust her motives?”

“I trust every word she said last night.” The thing that had kept him up all night was how telling what Alexis
hadn't
said was.

Last night and this morning...

If only she'd betrayed a spark of jealousy, or insecurity, if only she was like any other woman he'd known who would have thrown a reckless tantrum in the situation he'd put her in...
but no!

Even then, he'd known she was different. Even then, he'd known the core of steel she possessed beneath that innocence.

And what an enticing contrast it made...

Which was also why he'd been so violently attracted to her, a voice whispered. Why he had reached out to her in a way he hadn't done even with Rosa.

“Then you deceive her on purpose. You have Salvatore dangling on the line like a dog, Antonio threatening to hurt Valentina—”

“Will you marry Sophia Rossi then, Luca? Will you take her off my hands so that I don't worry about Valentina and can focus on my daughter instead?”

Luca's stinging silence was answer enough.

“Trust me,” Leandro gritted through his teeth. “I'm ensuring that I do right by everyone involved.”

“And her, Leandro? What about Alexis?”

Leandro ran a hand over his nape. What was right and what he wanted instead had always diverged when it came to this woman. And that he couldn't immediately seize control of the whole situation, that he couldn't make it right by any means available to him had kept him pacing to the first light of dawn.

He'd always thrived on being in control—of himself and his emotions and his situations, to beat circumstances into creating peace.

He
and Luca and later, Valentina, wouldn't have found peace or even the merest happiness if he hadn't been able to count on his emotional invulnerability.

But Alexis,
then and now
, made him flounder like an impulsive, hormone-driven teenager.

“She has nothing to fear from me.”

His brother's silence sent the most irrational surge of unease through him. Luca had the wickedest sense of humor Leandro had ever known. Not to mention carefree charm and the knack of making everyone feel at ease with him. Everything Leandro lacked and had never coveted.

Dio
, he was thirty-five. Too late to acquire new qualities or affect a personality change. Not to mention he wouldn't be of use to his family if he did.

“Stay away from her, Luca. Your
particular brand
of friendship will only make it harder for me to—”

A roaring laugh fell from his brother's lips. “You know better than to wave a warning in my face. Also how I like to even the scales.”

“This is far too important to me.” He wanted to growl at his brother like an animal, he wanted to banish Luca to some Neverland until he had it all sorted with Alexis.

The thought of losing a daughter now that he'd found her was unacceptable.

“Then why not tell her that? Why not put your cards on the table?” Luca countered.

“You think she'll meekly agree to what I want after my behavior in the past?” Leandro said softly as Alexis came down the stairs and waited at a distance for Luca and him to finish talking. “Or would you instead advise me to take the small place she offers in my own daughter's life?

“Alexis is unlike any woman you or I have ever known.”

For the first time since the blasted conversation began, Luca smiled that trademark devilish smile of his. Wide and reckless, his gaze took in Leandro leisurely, right down to his fisted hands.

Leandro had never, in his thirty-five years, felt the urge to punch the smile off his brother's face as he did then.

“Your saintly nature could stand to be tested now and then, Leandro.”

While Leandro fumed in silence, and awash in an increasingly frequent stinging bitterness in his throat, his reckless brother reached her and enfolded Alexis in his arms, kissed her cheeks, made excited sounds over the picture of Isabella on her phone and whispered God knew what with that easy camaraderie Leandro would never achieve with her.

Nor did he need to, he assured himself.

CHAPTER FOUR

I
T
TOOK
A
LEX
almost half the duration of the long flight to New York to get her head screwed on normally again. Between the flight, her headache and the effect Leandro had on her, she was going to have a nervous breakdown soon.

On top of the shock that he was coming with her had been the private airstrip the tinted-windowed Maserati had dropped them off at.

No uncomfortable economy seating purchased on Cheap-O-Fare for Leandro Conti or painfully long stopovers. The sleek Lear jet with its beige-and-black interior and wide, reclining-like-a-bed seats, the barely discernible hum as they took off had numbed her senses for a long while.

In lieu of this spectacular reminder of his wealth, all she'd been able to think of was what it said about him that he'd readily believed that she wasn't after his money.

He'd claimed to believe her seven years ago, too. Then why dismiss her so cruelly? Why hadn't he returned a single phone call?

I have to work
, he'd told her once they had taken off, his mind clearly on other matters. He'd been on several calls since then, his attention on his laptop, Alex easily dismissed.

As always
, a small resentful voice whispered. But then, there had never been anything remarkable about her, had there?

But once she'd settled in for the long flight, unease fluttered down her spine like a line of ants. It was clear that he'd postponed or canceled several meetings for this trip. Not to mention leaving his new fiancée behind, whose name she'd heard him mention more than once on his phone calls.

His actions didn't speak of a man who wanted to get an unwanted, distasteful complication out of the way so that he could go back to his pleasant life. Even as he'd claimed that was exactly why.

The continual, round-and-round, inconclusive thoughts all focused on the one man who'd always remained hurtfully elusive to her understanding on the heels of another sleepless night and the stress of the past few weeks made Alex's head pound in earnest.

Leaning her head back, she pressed her fingers onto her temples.

“Alexis, are you unwell?”

“I'm fine.” Prickly, defensive and far too revealing than she wanted.

“Are we at war,
bella
? Because if so, I would like some notice.”

The crisp scent of the ocean filled her nostrils and her eyes flicked open. He stood behind her seat, tall and broad, filling her vision. The stark, intensely masculine lines of his face were a sensual feast.

Before she could say no, his long fingers descended on her temples. “Here?”

His touch was cold.

Or was her skin unbearably hot?

With feathery lightness, he traced the width and length of the scar and the rucked tissue, again and again.

“Did they say if this would heal completely?”

“Years for the scar to disappear. I could have a skin graft, they said.” She closed her eyes. “But I decided against it.”

“You would rather bear the scar to remind you what you almost lost?”

Heart thudding at his perceptiveness, Alexis nodded weakly.

Her parents, even her friend Emma thought she should have the graft done. Put the accident behind her and move on. Count her blessings, they'd said.

She did count her blessings, but she wasn't the same person anymore. Whether in a good way or not, she didn't know.

Yet Leandro understood her so easily. “My mom thought it ruined my face,” she said, hating herself for the insecurity she couldn't seem to squash.

Fingers resting on her chin, he tilted her up to face him. Amusement glittered in his eyes. Yet Alex didn't think he was laughing at her. “I didn't think you were the type to angle for a compliment.”

“I'm not angling. I'm asking,” she said, cursing the stubborn man.

Fingers tracing her cheekbones up and down, he tilted her face up so that she looked right into his eyes. His gaze touched her forehead, her brows, eyes, nose, mouth, chin, and swept upward again. “The scar detracts nothing from what beauty you possess, Alexis.”

A curse flew from her mouth then. God, the man couldn't even hand out a pity compliment, could he?

“I hope you don't speak like that in front of Isabella.”

“Did anyone tell you you're an arrogant jackass, Leandro?”

Amusement sharpened those cheeks of his. “Luca does, quite frequently. Although I have to say it feels especially satisfactory to hear it from your mouth, Alexis.”

She was still struggling with that when his fingers moved over her forehead again, quick and firm, exerting just the right amount of pressure.

She groaned at the sweet relief, the sound wrenching from the depths of her. It was no different from the nurse or doctors who had checked her relentlessly those first few weeks after the accident, she tried to convince herself.

“Thanks.” She held his wrists, intending to push him away. And felt muscled sinew, the hair rasping against her palm. Innocent touch turned to searing awareness in a breath. “I'm okay now.”

When he spoke, steel edged his silky, smooth tone. “Alexis, if you tell me where it hurts precisely and why you whimper with such pain, then maybe I can relieve it a little. If you, however, insist on this prickly attitude, I will touch and prod you everywhere until I can figure it out. And I'm sure neither of us wants that.”

“I haven't been sleeping well,” she added quickly, “and it's all catching up with me. It feels like someone's taking a sledgehammer inside my head.”

“Relax now,” he commanded in that voice of his.

As if she could ever relax in his presence. As if that relentless peal of her nerves could ever quiet.

She had no knowledge of how long he was at it, but
God
, the man could weave magic with those fingers. In more than one way if her memories were right.

Welcome heat streaked through her temples as his clever fingers pressed just the right amount in the perfect rhythm at all the right places. Up and down, back and forth. Faster and harder. “You're really good at this,” she pointed out, her voice hoarse.

“Luca always had the worst kind of headaches growing up. He would...be at the piano for days, inhales books on so many different subjects, not sleep through nights at a time, then have raging headaches for days after. It was hard to watch him struggle with it so I learned a few techniques to ease it.”

Every time his fingers swooped down over her nape, sparks tingled. Languor filled her blood. “Where were your parents?” she asked and then realized she'd never heard any of the siblings mention them. Then or now.

“My father was not fit to be called one, much less a decent human being, and our mother,” his voice tempered here, “for years, she had her own problems.”

“What about Antonio?”

“Antonio is old-school. He thought Luca was pretending for attention and told him to toughen up.”

“You didn't?” she asked, her curiosity flaming. Not that it had ever been dormant when it came to this man.

“I knew how much Luca suffered, for all the outrageous tricks he played. I had to do something.”

She opened her eyes and found the penetrating gray of his. Neck stretched over the leather seat, there was nowhere else for her gaze to land.

The white collar of his shirt was a stark contrast against the dark skin of his throat. He would feel like tempered steel and rough silk, she knew, her fingers curling around the hand rest.

Without the formal clothes, he should have looked more attainable. He didn't. It was the confidence in his eyes, the sense of authority that clung to him like a second skin.

He seemed as out of her orbit as he'd been seven years ago.

“How old were you?” She somehow managed to get back on track.

“Fourteen.”

Fourteen years old and he'd been so thoughtful about his brother's pain.

Another small facet of his personality and yet all Alex felt was like she was tunneling through darkness. Her relentless awareness of his masculinity and his shabby treatment of her seven years ago only counted against him.

“Tell me about the accident,” he prodded softly.

He peppered her with specific questions, asking for numerous details, about her injuries, recovery period, right down to the names of the nurses who'd attended her.

With her muscles turning into mush, Alex gave over to his deep voice, and those magical hands. Told him of the weeks she spent in the hospital, seeing Izzie's face burst into tears at the sight of her in the stark bed, of wondering if she'd have use of her hand again.

“Your hand?” He walked around her seat immediately. “What happened to your hand?”

He lifted her left hand in his bigger one and studied the crisscross of scars across the puckered skin in the back. The pithy curse that fell from his mouth almost distracted her from the gentle, almost reverent touch.

Bluntly cut square nails. Long, tapered fingers. Rough calluses. She studied his hands to her heart's content. He traced the veins on the back of her hand, sending a tingle up her arm.

“It got crushed in the impact. The nerve damage was far too extensive. But they said continued physical therapy will help.”

She tried to pull her hand away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. But he didn't let go. “Was that the hardest part?”

Alexis looked down at their joined hands, her throat swelling. With his soothing tone and gentle caresses, he made her long for something that she couldn't even define.

The worst offender was mistaking that she interested him. That he was as aware of her as she was of him.

“The hospital food.”

A soft smile curved his mouth, changing the entire vista of his forbidding features. Like one ray of sunlight that pierced even the thickest, densest darkness.

A carefree, laughing Leandro.

It was as novel as it was attractive. Even back then, her first impression of him had been how serious he was.

“Is Isabella like you? Strong and stubborn?”

Smiling, she nodded. “Actually, the hardest part was the sheer amount of insurance paperwork that I had to deal with. But Justin was a great help with that.”

It was like she'd seen the show about predators on National Geographic. Just an infinitesimal tightening of those features—head cocking, muscles bunching in his shoulders. Regrouping before attacking. “Who is Justin?” He didn't quite meet her gaze.

“He's my friend Emma's brother. Moved back last year.”

“A good friend then?”

Something in his tone tugged but the pounding in her head easing, Alex couldn't care. “We've been on a few dates this past year,” she said, thinking back on how strange it had been to step out without Izzie. How hard it had been to accept Justin's help knowing that he liked her and she...she didn't feel anything like that about him.

Having known Justin for a long time, her parents, however, had all but started planning their wedding.

“A boyfriend then?” He stood up and moved behind her again, his hands moving to her head again as if they had never left.

When she looked up at him, a frown marred his brow. “Izzie likes him, too,” she said, parroting her mother.

“And you, Alexis? Do you like him?” The question was silky smooth but the speed with which he asked made her heart race.

“It's hard to not like Justin. Especially when I found last year how quickly men run in the opposite direction because I come with a child in tow.”

“What do you mean?”

“Emma decided I needed to get back out there and took out an ad on
Forever.com
. Forget
forever
, apparently, being a single mom means I don't even get a first date. This one creep who did contact me said it's good to have proof that I was fertile.” She cringed. “Fortunately, Justin proved I wasn't quite as plague-ridden for men as I thought.”

“You miss excitement in your life then?”

“Will you count it against me in this test if I say yes?” she said teasingly.

“A test?” He sounded so innocent that she laughed. “To what end?”

“To gauge my credibility as a mother and guardian before you settle money on Izzie?”

He did really laugh then. It was a deep, husky sound that wrapped around Alex like a warm blanket. “That is a cynical statement. Even an insult, I think, as it implies I care more about my money than a newly discovered daughter.”

“I didn't say that,” she pointed out. “I have no idea what kind of man you are, Leandro. Except for how you treated me. So if there's an insult here and there in the way I speak to you, then it's not intended.”

“Then we have to learn about each other.”

“Do we? Will you answer anything I ask of you?”

He smiled again and it stole through Alexis, warming her up from the inside, infusing her with a deep sense of well-being. Like one of Izzie's sweet and tight cuddles. Like the smell of the first cup of coffee in the morning. Like the crisply cold air in Central Park after a night's snowfall in winter.

“Are you bracing me with that question or yourself?”

How did he see through her so easily?

She was still chewing on that when he spoke. “Has it been hard? Doing it all on your own?”

Tension, she didn't know from where, swirled in the air all of a sudden. A million answers crowded in on her and Alex held her breath.

“For as long as I can remember, I worried about Luca and then Valentina.” Deep and low, his voice washed over her. But even more shocking was how readily he spoke of his past. “Still, only about their mental health and happiness. Not actual tangible things like their safety, finances and other things. Not to mention—”

“But that sounds like you had to grow up too fast.”

He shrugged. Clearly, he hadn't seen it as a loss. “I did what anyone would have done. I could not let Luca or Valentina suffer my parents' negligence.”

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