Bound to the Tuscan Billionaire by Susan Stephens

single mother with no money wasn’t easy, but it taught her a lot of things—things she had never imagined learning—things about her mother, for example. If she had one complaint, it was that she felt isolated sometimes in the tiny house she was renting. She realised now that her mother must have felt just the same in the grand mansion where Cass had been born. She only wished she had been old enough to understand her mother’s loneliness, and that she could cross time and space now to put things right. Her father would still have slept with all his groupies—she doubted anyone could have changed him—but she hoped she could have helped her mother. No wonder her mother had wandered around in a drug-fuelled stupor. She must have been desperate to work out how to compete for the attention of a man who’d no longer wanted her.
    She had learned these lessons from the past and could look after herself, Cass reassured herself, as she closed her hand tightly round the scan of her baby. She would shut her heart to Marco di Fivizzano, if it meant bringing up their child free from guilt and heartache. And if Marco was an example of how the rich and famous lived, she was glad to be poor and no one.
    Not so glad to be sick again, though...
    Leaning her hand against the wall, she retched on an empty stomach. Hyperemesis gravidarum , the doctor had called it, telling her that her morning sickness should ease soon.
    Soon couldn’t come soon enough for Cass. She was usually so healthy and full of pep, but these days she felt tired from the moment she woke up to when she fell exhausted into bed, and she was feeling particularly nauseous today. She was pale and grey, with an unattractive green tinge, she acknowledged ruefully as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Bloodshot eyes didn’t do much for her either. She wasn’t blooming, as pregnant women were supposed to do, according to the magazines—she felt wretched and too ill to work. Thankfully, she had an understanding manager, but his compassion would only stretch so far, Cass suspected. The upside of her situation was the news from the midwife that her baby was thriving. So she’d keep on keeping on—what else could she do? And she would try to eat healthily—when she could bear to eat at all.
    It was all in a good cause, she told herself firmly as she picked up a nourishing snack on her way back to bed in the vainest of hopes that she could keep it down. She took the phone with her to call her manager to ask if she could change shifts, and then she crawled back under the duvet with relief to wait for her twitchy stomach to calm down.
    * * *
    He had called his pilot, who was having the jet made ready before his PA had a chance to ask him if there was anything more she could do for him. His investigators hadn’t disappointed him, though their latest report had thrown him. If Cassandra was sick it changed everything. As a past member of his staff, he had a certain responsibility towards her, whether or not the baby was his.
    A baby that might be his...
    And he missed her. Dio! Just admitting those words made him frown. Had he grown soft?
    No. He was merely doing what had to be done, and it was a job that couldn’t be delegated. After she’d called the office, he wouldn’t put anything past her, so he had to see for himself exactly what was going on. The fact that, according to his sources, Cassandra had been living an exemplary life didn’t really surprise him, but it was welcome news. He wanted her to look after herself. His experience of women before Cass was hardly reassuring, and it was in his nature to be suspicious and think the worst. When the baby was born there would be a DNA test. He would have to be sure before committing himself further. With a shake of his head he cursed at being the cause of history repeating itself. Because of him another child would come into this world subject to