Married for His One-Night Heir Read online

  “You stole my son from me, Gia.”

  Now she’ll wear Di Fiore’s ring!

  Commanding Santo Di Fiore is stunned to see Giovanna Castiglione again. Her unexpected appearance at his luxurious party in the Bahamas leaves him craving answers. Why, after that one forbidden encounter, did she leave? But when Gia reveals their secret consequence, Santo won’t let her go a second time. The Italian will claim his son—and Gia as his wife!

  Experience the passion in this marriage of convenience romance

  Santo set his glass down with a clatter. “I am his father. I have missed three years of his life. You think a weekend pass is going to suffice? A few dips in the Caribbean as he learns to swim?” He fixed his gaze on hers. “I want every day with him. I want it all.”

  “What else can we do?” she queried helplessly. “You live in New York and I live here. Leo is settled and happy. A limited custody arrangement is the only realistic proposition.”

  “It is not a viable proposition.” His low growl made her jump. “That’s not going to work, Gia.”

  She eyed him warily. “Which part?”

  “All of it.” He waved a Rolex-clad wrist at her. “I have a proposal for you. It’s the only one on the table, nonnegotiable on all points. Take it or leave it.”

  The wariness written across her face intensified. “Which is?”

  “We do what’s in the best interests of our child. You marry me, we create a life together in New York and give Leo the family he deserves.”

  Secret Heirs of Billionaires

  There are some things money can’t buy...

  Living life at lightning pace, these magnates are no strangers to stakes at their highest. It seems they’ve got it all... That is, until they find out that there’s an unplanned item to add to their list of accomplishments!

  Achieved:

  1. Successful business empire.

  2. Beautiful women in their bed.

  3. An heir to bear their name?

  Though every billionaire needs to leave his legacy in safe hands, discovering a secret heir shakes up the carefully orchestrated plan in more ways than one!

  Uncover their secrets in:

  Kidnapped for the Tycoon’s Baby by Louise Fuller

  The Greek’s Secret Son by Julia James

  Claiming His Hidden Heir by Carol Marinelli

  The Secret the Italian Claims by Jennie Lucas

  Wed for His Secret Heir by Chantelle Shaw

  The Heir the Prince Secures by Jennie Lucas

  The Italian’s Unexpected Love-Child by Miranda Lee

  The Baby the Billionaire Demands by Jennie Lucas

  Look out for more stories in the Secret Heirs of Billionaires series coming soon!

  Jennifer Hayward

  Married for His One-Night Heir

  Jennifer Hayward has been a fan of romance since filching her sister’s novels to escape her teenage angst. Her career in journalism and PR, including years of working alongside powerful, charismatic CEOs and traveling the world, has provided perfect fodder for the fast-paced, sexy stories she likes to write—always with a touch of humor. A native of Canada’s East Coast, Jennifer lives in Toronto with her Viking husband and young Viking-in-training.

  Books by Jennifer Hayward

  Harlequin Presents

  The Magnate’s Manifesto

  Changing Constantinou’s Game

  The Powerful Di Fiore Tycoons

  Christmas at the Tycoon’s Command

  His Million-Dollar Marriage Proposal

  The Secret Billionaires

  Salazar’s One-Night Heir

  The Billionaire’s Legacy

  A Deal for the Di Sione Ring

  Kingdoms & Crowns

  Carrying the King’s Pride

  Claiming the Royal Innocent

  Marrying Her Royal Enemy

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

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  Who knew an unmitigated hair disaster would turn into an almost twenty-year friendship? Grazie mille for your amazing input on this story, Silvano Belmonte. Our brainstorming sessions were so much fun!

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EXCERPT FROM CLAIMING HIS CHRISTMAS WIFE BY DANI COLLINS

  CHAPTER ONE

  “SO, WHAT DID they think?” Giovanna De Luca leaned back against the windowsill of her boss’s office, a cup of coffee cradled between her fingers as she absorbed the brilliant sunshine that flooded through the space that served as the epicenter of power for Delilah Rothchild’s luxury Caribbean hotel chain.

  To look at her, one would have bought the deliberately casual picture hook, line and sinker. That she hadn’t just completed the most important assignment of her life, with the decor she’d done for a series of private residences on Delilah’s flagship Bahamian resort that would sell for upward of 20 million dollars each. That she was as cool as a cucumber as she waited for the feedback from the initial round of prospective buyers Delilah had met with this morning. But inside, her heart was racing.

  Delilah, however, knew better. Knew she was a master at hiding her emotions. “I have verbal expressions of intent for all but two of the villas,” she announced, a Cheshire-cat smile curving her lips. “Which will be snapped up in the second round, leaving them desperate for more. Due in large part,” she allowed, tipping her head at Gia, “to you. The interiors knocked their socks off, Gia. They were mad about them.”

  Gia released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding on a quiet, even exhale. A warmth flooded through her, spreading from her fingertips to her toes, then sinking deep to wrap itself around the thrumming beat of her heart. She had worked day and night to make sure those villas were perfect. To position them as the irresistible showpiece that would launch the opening of this phase of Delilah’s development to critical acclaim. But it went much deeper than that.

  The Private Residences at the Rothchild Bahamas had been her opportunity to give back to Delilah everything she’d given to her. To prove the bet the hotelier had made on her had been the right one. To prove to herself she could do this—that she could have the career she’d always dreamed of.

  She closed her fingers tighter around the coffee cup she held, fighting back the rush of emotion that chased through her. “I’m so happy to hear that,” she said huskily. “I know how much this project means to you.”

  Delilah fixed a laser-sharp, bright blue gaze on her. The woman was legendary for her ability to read a person in under a second flat. Her gaze was warm, however, as it rested on Gia, the bond they’d formed over the past two years undeniable. “You deserve every bit of the kudos. This wasn’t personal, Gia, it was business. You earned it with your talent.

  “Which is also,” Delilah added, rolling to her feet and crossing to the bar, “a cause for celebration.” She poured herself a cup of coffee, then turned and leaned against the counter. “I’m having a barbecue tonight to celebrate Junkanoo. Not a big thing—just some friends and a few business acquaintances. A chance to kick back
and have a glass of champagne. Put on a pretty dress and come.”

  Gia shook her head in a refusal that had become customary. “I was looking forward to a night at home. A couple of hours with Leo, a good book and a glass of wine.”

  Delilah pointed her cup at her. “You need a life, Gia. It’s been two years since Franco was killed. You are twenty-six years old. Working yourself to the bone, then spending all of your time with Leo, isn’t any kind of a life.”

  She thought it was the perfect life. Her three-year-old son, Leo, meant everything to her. She had walked away from her family—one of the most powerful organized-crime syndicates in America—to protect him. He was happy and thriving and that was all that mattered.

  “Besides,” Delilah added, a crafty smile curving her mouth, “there is someone I want you to meet. A friend of mine who does international financing. He is single for the first time in forever, he is nice and he is loaded. And,” she added on a low purr, “he is divine-looking. As in drop-dead gorgeous.”

  As in the last thing she was looking for. Getting involved with another rich, powerful man after her life had been ruled by such men held no interest for her. Getting involved with any man wasn’t in her plans after her disastrous marriage to Franco. But she would never say that to Delilah, the woman who had given her sanctuary in the months following her husband’s targeted assassination. Who had been her lifeline ever since.

  “I’m not interested in being set up,” she said firmly. “But maybe you are right about me needing to get out. Will I know anyone there?”

  Delilah named a couple of women she worked with at the hotel. Gia thought about the hours after Leo went to bed, when there was no escape from the loneliness that had consumed her life. When she missed her mother so much it felt like her insides were being torn out. When what-ifs infiltrated her head, taunting her with what might have been.

  Her stomach curled. She didn’t want to go there tonight. Her new life was wonderful—amazing—and everything she’d always dreamed of. She was moving forward, not backward. Delilah was right, it was time for her to start living again. Tonight would be the perfect opportunity to dip her toe back in.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “What should I wear?”

  Delilah’s eyes flashed in triumph. “Wear something summer fun. Sexy.”

  Gia shook her head. “I am not letting you set me up, Delilah. This is about me getting out to have some fun. That’s all.”

  “You should still wear something sexy.”

  * * *

  Gia settled for a dress that was neither sexy, nor conservative. A bright coral, with a wrap-front ruffle, it showed off the golden tan she’d acquired while living in the tropics, as well as the smooth length of her legs with its short, flirty skirt.

  Anticipation nipped at her skin as she kissed Leo good-night, left him with his babysitter, then walked the short distance from the villa where she lived on Delilah’s exclusive Lyford Cay estate, up to the main house. To not have her bodyguard, Dante, tracing her every step was still a novelty she couldn’t quite fathom. To step out her front door and not wonder what was going to be on the other side was a peace she couldn’t articulate.

  But there was also trepidation as she climbed the hill toward the sprawling colonial-style mansion, ablaze with light. She didn’t remember what it was like to go out for a carefree evening of fun. Had no idea how to even approach it. Maybe because her life had rarely, if ever, afforded her that luxury.

  Tonight, however, she was Giovanna De Luca, not Giovanna Castiglione. She was free.

  The barbecue, held on the beachside terrace of Delilah’s home to celebrate the popular Bahamian Junkanoo summer festival—a celebration of the arts on the island—was already in full swing when she arrived. A spectacular sunset stained the sky, a fiery pink-and-gold canvas for the festivities as the torchlight climbed high into the night. In the midst of that exotic atmosphere, the guests enjoyed fresh fried fish straight off the grill, rum-based refreshments and a steel band—the classic island experience.

  Gia hesitated on the fringe of the group, an age-old apprehension slivering through her. Once upon a time she had been judged for who she was, the family that she came from, rather than the girl she’d been. It had broken her heart—that sense of always being an outsider no matter how hard she had tried. But Delilah quickly spotted her, drew her into the crowd and slid a drink into her hand.

  The welcome cocktail, which was heavy on the rum, eased her nerves. As did the handsome financier Delilah introduced her to. He was charming and a gentleman to boot. She might have no intention of getting involved with him, but the clear attraction in his eyes was a boost to her ego, which had taken such a hit with Franco, she wasn’t sure the wounds were ever going to heal.

  Relaxing into the vibe, the alcohol warming the blood in her veins, she cast an idle glance over the crowd, surveying the new arrivals. A tall, fair-haired male that Sophie, the hotel’s glamorous publicity director, was chatting up claimed her attention. Muscular and well-built, he was undeniably commanding in his white shirt and dark pants that showed off every rippling, well-honed inch of him. But it was when her gaze rose to his elegant profile that her breath caught in her throat.

  It could not be. Not here. Not now.

  But it was.

  Her heart stuttered an erratic rhythm in her chest, its jagged beat reverberating in her head. Frozen to the spot, her companion’s words faded to the background as she absorbed Santo Di Fiore’s formidable, charismatic presence. Six foot two inches of lean, hard male, he had the perfectly hewn face and golden hair of an angel. A woman could drown herself in those velvety dark eyes.

  And for a night, she had done just that. One kiss—one perfect passionate kiss on a stormy evening in Manhattan four years ago—had changed everything. An attempt to escape her fate had dissolved into a fire neither of them could extinguish—a hunger that had been almost a decade in the making.

  She went hot and cold all at the same time, desperately wishing he was an illusion, because Santo Di Fiore had been her biggest mistake. Her most unforgettable, costly mistake—the repercussions of which had set into motion a chain of events she could never have foreseen. But he had also given her the most precious thing she possessed.

  Santo looked up and cast a lazy glance over the crowd. Every muscle in her body seized tight as his gaze came to rest on her, a hint of male interest flickering through his dark eyes, followed by a frown that marred his brow.

  Shock descended into fear—a bitter layer of it that coated her mouth. She turned away before he could focus on her, her purse clutched to her chest. She looked different. There was a chance he hadn’t recognized her, but she doubted that luck would hold. She needed to get out of here now.

  Spinning on her heel, she headed through the crowd. But before she could make an exit, Delilah descended upon her with one of the investors who’d purchased two of the private residences that morning and her escape route was blocked.

  She pasted a smile on her face and tried desperately to pretend that her world wasn’t crashing in on her.

  * * *

  He should be on a plane back to New York, stickhandling the most important launch in Supersonic’s history, dispensing with the hundreds of emails that had piled up in his inbox while he’d spent the weekend playing in a charitable golf tournament alongside his brother, Lazzero. Instead, Santo Di Fiore was on a tropical island being schmoozed by the current queen of the luxury-hotel market.

  Really, he’d had no time. But given he and Lazzero had bet the bank on Elevate—the new running shoe they’d promised investors would set the world on fire—gaining access to Delilah’s exclusive clientele list wasn’t an opportunity he’d been able to pass up. So after a tour of her impressive flagship property that afternoon, where the hotel maven had expressed her desire to house a half a dozen of his Supersonic boutiques in her hotels, he and Lazzero had been i
nvited to soak up the local atmosphere before flying out in the morning.

  He brought his glass to his lips and tipped back a mouthful of Scotch. Under normal circumstances, the delectable redhead, who’d been all over him in far more than a business sense ever since the tour, would have been adequate compensation for the expenditure of time. Instead, he was consumed by ghosts—ghosts he’d thought long ago put to bed. Because surely the sophisticated blonde across the crowd couldn’t have been Giovanna. She had beautiful raven-dark hair she’d always worn long and wavy, swearing she’d never cut it short.

  He brushed his wayward thoughts aside with an irritated twist of his lips. Giovanna Castiglione had married another man. They were over. End of story. That her husband had been taken out in a targeted hit, that she hadn’t been present at any of the functions where their social circles might have overlapped since, that she was a widow, available now, was inconsequential to him. The Giovanna he’d fallen in love with had been an illusion. She’d never existed.

  So why the hell couldn’t he get her out of his head?

  Lazzero, who’d finished his conversation with a slick-suited real-estate developer, joined him at the bar. “So what do you think of Delilah’s offer?” he prompted.

  “If we could get the pop-up retail in place in time for Elevate, it could offer us an entrée into a whole different clientele.”

  “Not a problem.” Lazzero dismissed the if. “Our retail teams have done it in a month. So we scale—we make it happen. My only question,” he allowed, tipping his glass at Santo, “is whose hotel chain do we like more for this? Stefano Castiglione’s or Delilah’s? They are two entirely different propositions.”

  A bitter taste filled Santo’s mouth. Once he hadn’t been good enough for Giovanna—Stefano Castiglione, her father, had made that very clear. Now, Stefano wanted to partner with him because he ran the most buzzed-about athletic-wear brand on the planet, because the famous personalities representing his clothing would make a huge splash at his casinos? Hell would freeze over before he did business with the man who had put those emotional bruises in Gia’s eyes.