The Italian's Unexpected Baby

His money can buy everything…

Except his heir!

Having escaped the streets of Rome, Alessandro runs a multibillion-dollar empire with a control that is world renowned. Yet Mia, his new, forthright executive assistant, threatens that control. And soon their fiery exchanges explode into unrivaled passion!

Mia is wary of trusting others, so when Alessandro coolly dismisses her after their night together, she dares not tell him she’s pregnant! But on learning her secret, he’s determined to legitimize his child. Mia’s priority is her daughter, but can she let Alessandro in when it means risking her heart?

After spending three years as a die-hard New Yorker, KATE HEWITT now lives in a small village in the English Lake District with her husband, their five children and a golden retriever. In addition to writing intensely emotional stories, she loves reading, baking and playing chess with her son—she has yet to win against him, but she continues to try. Learn more about Kate at kate-hewitt.com.

Also by Kate Hewitt

Inherited by Ferranti

Moretti’s Marriage Command

Demetriou Demands His Child

Engaged for Her Enemy’s Heir

The Innocent’s One-Night Surrender

Desert Prince’s Stolen Bride

Princess’s Nine-Month Secret

The Secret Kept from the Italian

Greek’s Baby of Redemption

Claiming My Bride of Convenience

Seduced by a Sheikh miniseries

The Secret Heir of Alazar

The Forced Bride of Alazar

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Italian’s Unexpected Baby

Kate Hewitt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09782-6

THE ITALIAN’S UNEXPECTED BABY

© 2019 Kate Hewitt

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

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 THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

‘HE’S COMING!’

Mia James’s stomach clenched unpleasantly as she hurried to stand behind her desk, shoulders back, chin up, heart pounding.

‘He’s in the lift now…’

The numbers above the silver doors glowed, one after another. Two…three…

Mia watched out of the corner of her eye as her fellow colleagues at Dillard Investments did the same as she had, scurrying to desks, standing up straight. They were like schoolchildren awaiting an inspection by the head teacher. A particularly strict and perhaps even cruel head teacher…the notoriously ruthless Alessandro Costa, self-made billionaire and, as of yesterday, the new CEO of Dillard Investments.

Yesterday the company had been taken over by Alessandro Costa in a calculated and clever manoeuvre that had shocked everyone involved in the company right down to their toes, including Mia’s boss and the CEO, Henry Dillard. Poor Henry had looked terribly shaken, aging ten years in a matter of minutes as he realised there was nothing he could do to stop Costa International from gaining controlling shares; it had all happened before he’d even had a chance to realise, Costa stalking the company the way a ruthless predator would a prey.

Four…five… The lift doors pinged open and Mia drew her breath sharply as the new CEO of Dillard Investments stepped through them. She’d seen photos of him online, having done an exhaustive internet search last night when the news had been confirmed that Dillard’s had been taken over. What she’d learned had far from reassured her.

Alessandro Costa specialised in hostile takeovers and then stripping the companies of their assets and employees, to be absorbed into his behemoth of a corporation, Costa International.

A few months ago, he’d taken over a company similar to Dillard’s—small, family-owned, a bit antiquated. Now it was virtually gone, swallowed up by the man who was striding onto the top floor of the building Dillard’s owned in Mayfair.

Mia tried not to make eye contact with Alessandro Costa, but she found she couldn’t stop looking at him. The photos on the internet didn’t do him justice, she realised with an uneasy pang of physical awareness. They didn’t communicate his intense energy, as if a force field surrounded him, as if he crackled.

Cropped dark hair, as black as midnight, framed a face that was all angles and hard lines, from his jaw to his nose to the dark slashes of brows over cold, steel-grey eyes. His body, tall and lethally powerful, was encased in a hand-tailored suit of dark grey silk, the silver tie at his throat matching the colour of his eyes. He made Mia think of a laser, or a sword…something powerful and lethal. A weapon.

He came onto the floor with its open-plan desks with quick, purposeful strides, his narrowed, hawk-like gaze moving in quick yet thorough assessment around the room, pinning people in place. It felt as if the very air trembled. Mia was afraid she did. Alessandro Costa was incredibly intimidating.

She knew everyone’s job was up for grabs, and most likely down the drain as well. In his last takeover, it had been rumoured that Costa had kept three employees out of forty. As personal assistant to the CEO, Mia knew her position would almost certainly be cut. Costa undoubtedly had his own executive assistant already in place, and as he didn’t seem likely to keep Dillard’s going as a separate entity, her job had most likely become obsolete last night, with the takeover.

Still, she was determined to try to do something to keep it. She’d been working for Dillard Investments since she was nineteen, fresh from a B Tech business course, bright-eyed and determined to make something of herself and, most importantly, to finally be independent.

All her childhood she’d been under the controlling thumb of her unbearably autocratic father, having to do as he said and dance to his tune, however discordant its notes. Her mother had been the same, cringing and hopeful in dispiriting turns, and Mia had vowed to gain her freedom as soon as she could—and never make the same kind of mistake her mother had, by marrying a charming yet controlling man…or any man at all.

So now, while Mia knew she could find another job, she resisted the prospect of being fired from this one for no good reason. She’d been here a long time, had worked hard, and had made a few friends along the way.

She might be likely to lose her job anyway, but she’d go down fighting. She had to, as points of both pride and principle.

Alessandro Costa had stopped in the centre of the room, his feet spread wide, his hands on his hips. He looked like the king of an empire, surveying his domain. Like something out of a fairy tale, except in a three-piece suit.

‘Who is Mia James?’ he asked, his voice slightly accented, the words crisp and precise as they echoed through the open space.

Mia felt every eye on the floor turn instinctively towards her. Like a child in school being called on by a teacher, she raised her hand, hoping her voice would come out strong.

‘I am.’ She might have overshot it, she realised; she sounded strident. Aggressive, even, to hide her nervousness.

Alessandro Costa’s eyes narrowed even further in appraisal, and his lips flattened into a hard line.

‘Come with me,’ he said, and walked into Henry Dillard’s office, the only private space on the floor, an elegant room with wood panelled walls and leather club chairs, tasteful oil paintings and heavy curtains. It felt like a gentleman’s club, or the study of an elegant townhouse, which it very well might once have been. Dillard’s offices were in a former home, although much of it had been gutted for desk space.

Costa strode towards the big, mahogany desk, inlaid with leather, that Henry had always sat behind while Mia had taken notes or dictation. Henry had been eccentrically old school; he’d only bought a laptop a few years ago, and he’d still depended on Mia to manage emails and spreadsheets, finding both quite beyond him, and not seeming to mind.

It gave her a pang now to think that was all over; Henry had retreated to his estate in Surrey, and Mia half wondered if she’d ever see him again. Last night, as he’d shuffled out of the office, his business in ruins around him, he’d seemed like an old, broken man, and it had wrung her heart right out. And it was this man’s fault.

Alessandro Costa stood behind Henry’s old desk, his hands placed flat on its surface, fingers spread wide, as he stared at her, his eyes magnetic, his body radiating barely suppressed energy. Although his expression was focused, it wasn’t unfriendly. He looked like a man intent on action, and it made Mia tense, something in her kicking up a notch, ready to respond.

‘I need you.’ Costa spoke the words matter-of-factly, but stupidly they made Mia’s heart skip a silly beat. He didn’t mean in that way, of course he didn’t. But perhaps he meant she might keep her job…

‘You…do?’

‘Yes, for the moment, at least.’ Costa straightened, his gaze surveying her with cool appraisal. ‘You’ve been Dillard’s PA for how long?’

‘Seven years.’

He nodded slowly. ‘And, as far as I can see, you were the plug on his life support.’

Mia blinked, absorbing the cruel bluntness of that statement. ‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ she said quietly, although admittedly there was some truth in it. In reality, Henry Dillard would have been happy playing golf and letting the company his father had founded dwindle away to nothing. The company had been ripe for a takeover, even if he hadn’t seen it himself, and Mia had never let herself consider such a possibility.

‘Perhaps that’s a bit harsh,’ Costa allowed, ‘but Dillard himself admitted he was behind the times. Of course, many of his clients are, as well.’

‘Which begs the question why you took it over,’ Mia returned. Costa’s eyebrows rose as he kept her gaze, and something sparked to life in Mia, something she most certainly wasn’t going to acknowledge.

‘Yes, it does, doesn’t it?’ he remarked. ‘Fortunately that is not something you need to concern yourself with.’

And that was her, put firmly in her place. ‘Very well.’ She met his narrowed, steely gaze unflinchingly, although it cost her. Every time she looked at him she felt something in her spark and tingle in a way she definitely didn’t like. The man was intense and a little scary, but there was something that drew her to him as well—something in his fierce energy, his incredible focus. ‘So why do you need me?’ she asked, deciding that keeping things on track was her best bet.

‘I need you because I require your knowledge of Henry’s clients so I can deal with them appropriately. So as long as you prove useful…’

Which sounded like a barely veiled threat, or perhaps just a statement of fact. Mia couldn’t imagine Alessandro Costa putting up with anyone who wasn’t useful.

‘And when I don’t prove useful?’ she asked, although she had a feeling she didn’t want to know the answer.

‘Then you’ll be let go,’ Costa said bluntly. ‘I don’t keep useless employees. It’s bad business practice.’

‘What about the rest of the staff?’

‘Again, none of your concern.’

Wow. The man had no hesitation in being blunt, yet Mia didn’t sense any cruel relish in his words, just simple bare statements of fact, which she could appreciate, even if she didn’t like them.

In any case, needlessly sparring with Alessandro Costa was a fast track to being fired, and she wanted to keep her job. She needed to keep her job. It felt like the only thing she had.

‘All right.’ She straightened, tipping her chin up, determined to stay professional and match his focus. ‘What would you like me to do?’

Something silver flashed in Alessandro’s grey eyes; it almost looked like approval, and it made a ripple of pleased awareness race through her, treacherous and molten, racing through her fingers and down to her toes. ‘I want files on all of Dillard’s major clients, with notes about any potential quirks, habits, tendencies, or any other pertinent information within the hour. We’ll talk through it all then.’

‘All right.’ Mia thought she could manage that, if only just.

‘Good.’ Without another word, Alessandro Costa strode out of the office, closing the door firmly behind him.

Mia let out a gusty breath and then, on watery legs, she sank into a chair in front of the desk. Now that he was gone, she realised afresh how much energy Costa drew from her, how much adrenalin he stirred up so her heart still pounded and her head felt light. Talking with him had felt like a full mental and physical workout. Ten minutes of it and she was, strangely, both exhausted and energised.

She was also…affected. The man’s forceful personality was only part of his intense charisma; she’d felt as if she couldn’t look away from him—the eyes that almost glowed, the barely leashed energy that radiated from him, the power that was evident in every taut line of his body. Even now she breathed in the faint scent of his aftershave, something with sandalwood in it, and she felt the urge to tremble. Thankfully, she didn’t.

On still shaky legs Mia rose from her chair. She needed to show Alessandro Costa she was oh-so-useful, and more than that, she was necessary. Essential, even. Because she wasn’t ready to contemplate the alternative.

Quickly Mia left Henry’s old office and went to her desk immediately outside of it. The crowds that had been waiting for Alessandro Costa’s arrival had dispersed, and people were back at their desks, attempting to at least seem as if they were working.

Alessandro was nowhere to be seen, and Mia wondered what he was doing. Inspecting the ranks? Firing someone? If the rumours were true, he’d fire most of Dillard’s staff, just as he had countless other times, something she couldn’t bear to think about. She had to focus. She had a job to do.

Dillard Investments was even more of a sorry mess than he’d realised. After a morning of meeting employees and assessing the company’s condition, Alessandro Costa felt nothing but a scathing derision for Henry Dillard, a man whose affable exterior hid a terrible weakness—a weakness that had caused the inevitable loss of his company, his clients’ assets, and the well-being of his employees. The man had the appearance of a lovable teddy bear, but Alessandro was glad he’d put an end to his benevolent ineptitude.

By refusing to keep up with the times and seek out new opportunities and investments, Henry Dillard had been slowly, or not so slowly, running his company as well as his clients’ portfolios into the red, content to live off his dwindling profits and focus on his golf game. If Alessandro hadn’t taken over the company, someone else surely would have.

Better, though, that it was him. This was his field of expertise, after all, and what he’d made his life’s mission: taking over failing or corrupt companies and turning them into something useful, or else dismantling them completely.

As Alessandro knew and had seen, over and over again, the opportunity of defeating the enemy lay within the enemy himself…discovering his weaknesses and finding his vulnerabilities. It was a concept from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, and what Alessandro had learned long ago was that not only was business war, but life was war, a battle fought every day, and he had the scars to prove it. Yes, life was war… And he was in it to win.

At least a third of the employees he’d met with today would have to be fired. It seemed as if Dillard had never let anyone go, whether out of sentimentality, stupidity, or just sheer laziness Alessandro didn’t know or particularly care.

He always tried to keep redundancies to a minimum, preferring to transfer people to other positions within his portfolio of companies, but many of the staff he’d met here clearly didn’t deserve such an opportunity. Dillard’s PA, Mia James, being a notable exception…

Surprisingly, reluctantly, Alessandro had been intrigued by her. She was beautiful in a very boring, very English way—straight blonde hair, cornflower blue eyes, a clear, healthy complexion, a tall and athletic figure, without any noticeable curves. Competent…in every way, and not the kind of woman that usually sparked his sensual interest.

She was the kind of woman, Alessandro reflected, who had probably been captain of her hockey team at school, who hiked on weekends and had had crushes on horses rather than boys growing up. Who would marry a suitable man and have the requisite two children, a boy and a girl. No one, clearly, whom he would let himself be interested in, much less pursue.

Yet she’d intrigued him. And he didn’t like to be intrigued, especially not by a PA whom he would most likely transfer as soon as possible, because he worked best alone. Always had, always would, in every way possible. That was the only way he knew how to conduct his life, learned in childhood and honed to a highly polished skill in adulthood, and he didn’t see it changing. Ever.

Mia James was waiting for him in Dillard’s office when he walked in an hour after he’d last seen her, to the minute. Alessandro always kept to time, kept his word. Stayed in control, even in such seemingly small, incidental matters, as a point of principle, a matter of pride.

‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Do you have the files?’

She’d risen from her chair as he’d entered, making him notice, rather unwillingly, her long, slender legs encased in sheer black tights, her feet in low black heels. She wore a black pencil skirt and blazer, a crisp white blouse, a simple gold pendant at her throat. Her long, wheat-coloured hair was caught cleanly behind in a clip. He could not fault anything about her, and yet he still felt discomfited. Irritated, even, by his own interest as much as her presence.

He didn’t let people affect him. He didn’t do emotions, and he most definitely didn’t act on them. His own unsettled childhood was testament to the power of emotions, as well as the danger, which was why he behaved in a tightly controlled way that made sense. Because Alessandro Costa needed to be in control. Always.

‘I have everything right here,’ Mia said, her voice calm and cool. Unflappable, unlike how he was feeling, which annoyed him further. ‘Personal files and relevant information on Dillard’s ten most important clients.’

‘And how did you determine they were the most important?’ Alessandro asked, his voice something close to a snap.

Her clear blue gaze met his; she seemed untroubled by his tone. ‘They are the largest investors, and they’ve been with Dillard’s the longest amount of time.’

‘Everyone’s been with Dillard’s since the time of dinosaurs,’ Alessandro returned, his irritation making him more callous than he normally would have let himself be. ‘That’s the nature of the place.’

‘Dillard’s longevity is one of its points of pride,’ Mia agreed, her voice—and what a low, pleasant voice it was—carefully equable. She would not rise to his irritable bait. Another point in her favour, yet unreasonably this just annoyed him further.

He sprawled in the chair behind the desk, beckoning her forward with one hand. ‘So show me.’

Mia hesitated for the barest of seconds—hardly noticeable except Alessandro felt so weirdly attuned to her—and then she scooped up the pile of folders and walked around to his side of the desk, placing them in front of him and then flipping the first one open.

‘James Davis, a millionaire who set up his own company to manage his financial interests. Inherited money. Generous to a fault. Affable and easy-going but very little common sense. Happy to follow a lead, generally speaking.’

Alessandro was silent, reluctantly impressed by how quickly and clearly she’d summed up the client. Given him all the relevant information, without anything unnecessary, exactly as he would have wanted. So few people impressed him, but Mia James had. In more ways than one.

He glanced down at the top sheet detailing the man’s investments but the figures blurred in front of him as he inhaled Mia James’s scent—something understated and citrusy. She was standing quite close to him, her breasts on a level with his gaze. Not that he was looking, but he did notice how the crisp white cotton with discreet pin tucks highlighted her trim figure. Perhaps curves were overrated.

What was he thinking?