Page 95 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8

Wordlessly Stella crossed the room, her bearing as haughty as a duchess’s. Gio admired her panache. Apart from a hint of fatigue around the eyes she looked indomitable.

He could imagine her coping with any emergency. No wonder she was building a professional reputation as a force to be reckoned with. His investigators’ findings painted an impressive picture.

She’s not here for a job interview.

Once she settled in an armchair he sat opposite. ‘There’s something we need to clear up.’

Her eyebrows rose as she reached for a plate of biscotti, languidly choosing one then taking a bite. ‘Only one thing?’

Gio tamped down impatience. ‘Why pretend you’re pregnant?’

She swallowed and coughed, as if the food had gone down the wrong way. ‘It doesn’t matter. You knew better than to believe it. I’d rather discuss why you took it upon yourself to make a mockery of my wedding. What do you want?’

Her scornful tone was designed to rile him.

Rile and distract?

He watched Stella reach for water and sip slowly. But she put the biscotto down rather than nibble it again and she avoided his eyes.

As if she had something to hide?

A knot formed in Gio’s belly, his senses hyperalert as a warning premonition skated down his spine.

‘Stella?’ Her mouth flattened as she met his gaze. ‘Are you pregnant?’

For the longest moment she didn’t respond, just stared back stonily. Then her chin lifted. ‘You didn’t bring me all this way to talk about something you’ve already said is impossible.’

Her prevarication felt like an admission. Something fizzed in Gio’s blood, something he had no name for. His heartbeat quickened and his breath stalled.

He leaned closer. ‘Is it mine?’

Her expression tightened and he caught a flash of emotion before she hid it. ‘In Sicily you didn’t believe there was a baby. Nothing’s changed since then.’

But it had. His gaze dropped from her face to her hands, protectively clasped over her abdomen. He’d swear it was an unconscious gesture, all her effort going into maintaining that defiant stare.

And just like that something cracked open inside him, letting in a rush of feelings. Astonishment, fear and, confusingly, a sense of wonder.

‘Iknowyou’re pregnant, Stella.’

It should have been a guess but suddenly he’d never been so certain of anything. Even her pulse, throbbing out of control, betrayed her.

He watched her realise she’d given herself away. Now one shaky hand lifted again to her throat in a gesture of defencelessness.

That was a slap to the face. Her body language screamed that she felt threatened. He hated that, wanted to reassure her, but above all he had to know.

‘You’re safe with me, Stella, whatever the truth.’ His voice was an urgent rasp, his throat raw as an unnerving mix of hope and stark terror engulfed him. ‘Is it mine?’

A child of your own. A family. How many years since you’ve had family? Since you loved anyone or felt love back?

The momentary glow in his belly disappeared as the memory of eviscerating pain skewered him. Family meant warmth and belonging but also unspeakable loss and anguish.

Gio drew a slow breath then forced himself to exhale.

Since reaching adulthood he’d been almost grateful to be alone, unencumbered by close ties. He’d seen the hell his father suffered when intense love turned to unendurable grief for his wife and daughter, lost together on that dreadful day.

Gio had grieved too, devastated by their loss. He hadn’t been able to comprehend life without them. But eventually, slowly, he’d discovered life moved on, one step at a time. But his father hadn’t moved on, instead remaining mired in grief, driven almost mad by bereavement.

After seeing and experiencing what love and loss had done to his father, Gio kept his relationships light, not deep. He’d become the master of the short-term affair, mutually exclusive while it lasted but never impinging on his autonomy. He was a loner.