Page 19 of Baby Bump for the Mafia Boss

“It would be very inconvenient to me if you left my employment.” Yes, that’s better. Never mind that I just moved her into another role. “And if you’re worrying about your child, that will cause problems.”

“I’m sorry my pregnancy is an inconvenience to you, Boss,” she says wryly and shakes her head.

“You’ll make it up to me,” I reply with my trademark arrogance, ignoring the pang that she doesn’t call me Dane. I told her to that night. That much, I do remember clearly. “Andbesides, you can train your child so they can work for Beckton too.”

The outrage in her expression is perfect. “That’s why you want to be my baby’s father? To have an heir?”

I shrug in a way that she’ll interpret as “yes” but actually is “if that’s the explanation that will get me what I want, fine”. I admit I’m slightly insane about this.

I think of her constantly. I’ve thought of her every day for the last four months. I’ve relived the vivid hallucination I had that night in the cabin of us having sex until I convinced myself it’s real, then knew it was a dream.

And I’ve told myself the best thing was to do my work, destroy Volk for nearly killing us, not let my heart be engaged, and get on with life without returning to London, storming into her office, and claiming her over her desk.

Or my desk.

Or the floor.

To be honest, my imagination isn’t fussy about the exact location.

The amount I’ve thought about her means I’ve got nothing but an ache like someone has cut my heart out with a rusty knife. Being away should have been time to get over my love for a girl who’s totally off limits.

It didn’t work.

As evidenced by my behaviour now I’m back. It’s not as though the time apart has dampened my affection. Worse, they haven’t only grown stronger, they’re deeper. I’m more convinced than ever that I need her in my life, and whatever the price for that is, I’ll pay it. Money, sure. Heart ache, already there. My kidney? I’ve got a spare.

Protecting her was the aim of staying away, and instead I’ve discovered some other man moved in on my Stephie. Myassistant. My girl. She’ll be my wife, sooner or later. I’m all-in now.

Fate has played its hand. I have the cards to beat it.

“A bonus, extra maternal leave. What do you need, Stephie?”

She stares at me for so long, her face showing a flickering of emotion that I can’t read, it’s so fast and varied.

“You really want to act as my baby’s father?” she asks tentatively.

I long to be her husband as well, but after four months away, I can afford to take it gradually. Not scare her.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Stephie.” And she’s observed that over years.

“But you…” She pauses, and looks conflicted, then squares her shoulders, as though making a decision. She tilts her chin up. “Okay. Thank you.”

My smile is inward, but no less triumphant for being unseen. “That’s settled then. You’ll move in with me.”

10

DANE

Moving Stephie into my house is easier than I anticipated. With only a minimum of arguing, she fetches a bag and accepts the room next to mine. We have dinner together, and it’s almost like it was before.

I wake in the middle of the night, as I often do. I’m a light sleeper, and in fact, the only time I’ve slept really deeply was—ironically enough—with Stephie, on a stone floor, when I was drugged. That was a great dream.

But the slightest noise usually wakes me, and I breathe slowly and softly to listen for what woke me up.

And I hear it. Soft footsteps. Unfamiliar in this house that I’ve hardly seen for four months and lived alone in before that.

Stephie.

I throw back the covers and consider for a second whether I should put some clothes on. No.