Baby By Accident: International Billionaires III: The Italians by Caro LaFever Page A

irreparably.”
    “I know.” He eyed her, giving away nothing more. His big body leaned negligently, relaxed again on the sofa. Yet the heat of him, the demanding energy surging between them, enveloped her. A shiver of unwanted lust and fear went down her spine.
    “Why do you care?” she accused him, trying another desperate tactic. “You can’t possibly want anything to do with a child.”
    “So you are saying it is mine?” Now there was green in his eyes. A pure, clear green mixing into the gold and brown.
    “N-no. Definitely not.”
    “Hmm.” The green welled, taking over the gold, washing and rolling into a sea of inflexible power. Like the tide of the ocean, the color rushed toward her, overwhelming her.
    This was her baby, though. She had to win this. Convince him of what was so plainly true. He didn’t want a baby in his life. Didn’t want a child or the responsibility. Surely he could see that. What was he thinking, the stupid man?
    “Look at the way you live.”
    “What does that mean?” The menace in his tone was clear. He wanted her to drop this line of objection completely.
    But she had spine. And she had terror. “The women. The partying. You barely have time for anything else.”
    “Really?” The menace gritted around the word. “You know this how? ”
    “Well.” She couldn’t meet his green-gold gaze any more. The look in those tawny eyes no longer made her shiver, it made her quake. “It’s perfectly clear you’d rather be free to…”
    “To?”
    “To…” She waved her hands in the air. “To play. You don’t want the responsibility.”
    His sudden move to stand made her jerk her head back to stare at him with a wary gaze. The menace now emanated from his body in the tight fisting of his hands, the flash of fury in his eyes, the hard edge of his jaw.
    What? What had she said that was anything other than the truth? She took a step backward even though she hated to think of it as a retreat.
    “Can you look at what is happening in the company and deny my ability to take responsibility?” The words punched from his mouth.
    “That is not the same—”
    “Can you look me straight in the eye and deny the success my plans have achieved in only six months?”
    Lise balled the front of her nightgown in her sweaty hands. She wasn’t going to lie again. Not again.
    “Maybe,” he growled. “This has nothing to do with my lifestyle.”
    “What?”
    “Maybe the real reason you object to letting me know if this child is mine is because you don’t want to sully its life with my presence.”
    His words were so bitter she felt them like a lash. What was he talking about? She stared at him in complete bewilderment. “I just don’t think you want to be a father. I don’t think you’d be very good at it.”
    He flinched. And then his eyes blazed at her with passionate hate. “It doesn’t matter what you think of me.”
    “But—”
    “What matters is if this child is mine. I will find out.”
    “You can’t possibly care—”
    “I care.” His gaze was fierce, his words taut with conviction. “I care.”
    She stared at him, stunned. This couldn’t be the playboy pirate she knew him to be. “You aren’t thinking—”
    His arm slashed through the air, cutting off her objection. “Enough,” he snarled. “Taverwood Grange.”
    Her heart stopped. Then pounded in her chest. “What of it?”
    The tiger strode past her to stare down at the cold fireplace. The muscles of his back clenched and then relaxed as if he’d made a hard decision. She held her breath, waiting for his threat.
    Why was she surprised he’d use threats to get his way? Why was she hurt?
    He spun around, his face pale yet composed. “I own the mortgage on it.”
    Ruddy hell. Her knees trembled, but she refused to sit, to cower in front of him. Still, the news was brutal and devastating. Instinctively, she understood what it meant immediately. She would have to do what he demanded. Or else her mother would