Her Husband's Christmas Bargain
The Italian's marriage demand… When Italian businessman Luigi Costanzo discovers that Megan, his beautiful estranged wife, is also the mother of his child, he is incensed! She's left him no alternative: he will do anything in his power to possess his wife and child. Megan is less than impressed when Luigi turns up on her doorstep—the week before Christmas!Luigi is as arrogant as ever—and still as impossible to resist. But Luigi is adamant…Megan will be a wife to him—in every way—once more!
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER ONE
IT WASNâT! It was! It was Megan. Luigi Costanzo had overheard the child telling Santa that all she wanted for Christmas was a daddy. It had aroused his curiosity, even caused a faint stir somewhere deep within him, and heâd watched her as she returned to her mother. She was a pretty little girl with long blonde hair and big blue eyes, but it was the shock of seeing who was her parent that caused him to do a double take.
Megan!
His Megan!
Megan, whom he hadnât seen for almost four years.
What the hell?
Luigi looked from mother to daughter and his eyes narrowed. Megan still had the same shoulder-length blonde hair, the same slender figure; nothing about her had changed. She didnât even look any older. He swung on his heel, snapping his fingers at his nearest employee. âPlease follow that woman and report back to me with her address.â
âYes, sir.â
If the young man was surprised he didnât show it. He spurted into immediate action. There was no arguing with the new owner of Gerards. Heâd had everyone on their toes ever since he took over a few months ago.
âSweetheart, what did you ask for?â Megan looked down at her beloved daughter, who was skipping happily along at her side. There hadnât really been time to visit Santaâs grotto but Charlotte had pleaded so eloquently that Megan couldnât find it in her heart to refuse. There was always another train, even if it meant travelling home at the height of the rush hour.
âFor a daddy.â
Megan hid her surprise, smiling indulgently instead. âI donât think Santa supplies daddies. You were supposed to ask for a toy.â Her heart felt heavy as she spoke. Charlotte was right, she did need a father, and if Luigi had been differentâ¦
Megan halted her thoughts. It was no good letting them run along those lines. She had been an idiot for marrying him, for allowing her parents to convince her that she could do no better. He was a man with big ambition; she would never want for anything, they had said.
She could understand their reasoning because money had been the bane of their lives, her father never able to hold down a job for long due to ill health, so for that reason she hadnât told her parents that she was leaving Luigi. She had simply disappeared, telephoning them later so that they would know she was safe, but not giving them her address. They had not been happy, telling her that she was making a big mistake. But Megan didnât think so.
Luigiâs chief aim in life was making money, and he was very good at it. His wife was someone to clean his home, and cook and wash for him, and to make love to whenever the urge drove him. But there was no love in his heart; she had found that out after the first few months of marriage. She doubted he was capable of feeling any such emotion. Whereas she had loved him with a passion that had sometimes scared her.
With an effort she pushed him out of her mind, concentrating instead on her chatterbox daughter. Santa had given her a parcel and they played a guessing game all the way home as to what was inside.
Home was a rented terraced house in Greenwich, which she shared with Jenny Wilson whom sheâd met when she first arrived in London. As soon as they were indoors Charlotte ripped the wrapping paper off her gift. If Megan was disappointed her daughter wasnât. She was delighted with her soldier doll.
âLook, Mummy, I can pretend heâs my daddy. Wasnât Santa kind?â
It was a clear case of the boys and girls presents getting muddled but Megan hadnât the heart to tell Charlotte this. âHe certainly is, sweetheart. What are you going to call him?â
âDaddy, of course,â said Charlotte scornfully. âCome on, Daddy, come and play with me.â
It broke Meganâs heart to see her daughter being so passionate about a doll. She hadnât realised that Charlotte missed having a father. Where had the idea come from? Surely she was too young to know?
Daddy doll was a part of their lives for the next few days and on Sunday morning, when Charlotte jumped into bed beside her, the doll had to come too. Megan was sometimes tempted to conveniently lose the doll, except that she knew her daughter would be heartbroken. The trouble was, all this talk about Daddy dragged up memories she would far rather forget.
When the doorbell rang loudly and insistently she was tempted to ignore it. This was Sunday morning for heavenâs sake. No one of any consequence called at this hour. It was probably for Jenny anyway, and she was spending the weekend with her fiancé. But the ringing didnât stop; whoever it was kept their finger on the button with no intention of going away until it was answered.
Impatiently Megan pulled on her dressing gown. âStay there and keep the bed warm,â she told her daughter. Someone was going to get a piece of her mind. But that someone robbed her of speech. She felt the colour drain from her face, and her heart skipped a couple of beats before resuming at a startling pace.
