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Italian Christmas Baby
Italian Christmas Baby
Italian Christmas Baby
Ebook94 pages1 hour

Italian Christmas Baby

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Emily has everything ready for the birth of her baby--the only thing left to do is tell the father!

Second in a Christmas trilogy set in Naples and the Amalfi coast

It was love at first sight for Emily when she met gorgeous Italian businessman, Savino Marin. She was sure he felt the same, until he walked away from her without a backward glance. But he left something behind and eight months later Emily decides she must tell him she's pregnant before his baby is born. She prays he'll want to be a father to his child, but she has no intention of renewing their relationship. He broke her heart once and she won't let him close enough to cause her pain again. But Savino knows exactly what he wants, and he's used to getting his own way.

Other books in the Sweet Italian Christmas Series
#1 Italian Christmas Proposal. Take a Christmas vacation in Italy and fall in love!
#3 Italian Christmas Wedding. She runs from the mafia straight into his arms.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 18, 2015
ISBN9781311079688
Italian Christmas Baby
Author

Helen Scott Taylor

Helen Scott Taylor's first novel, The Magic Knot, won the American Title contest in 2008, was a Golden Heart® finalist, and was chosen as one of Booklist's top ten romances of 2009. Since then, she has published other novels, novellas, and short stories in both the UK and USA. Her published works have been finalists in a number of contests including the Holt Medallion, the Lories, the Prism Contest, the Write Touch Award and the Maggies. Helen lives in South West England near Plymouth in Devon between the windswept expanse of Dartmoor and the rocky Atlantic coast. As well as her wonderful long-suffering husband, she shares her home with a Westie and an aristocratic chocolate-shaded-silver-burmilla cat who rules the household with a velvet paw. She believes that deep within everyone there's a little magic. www.helenscotttaylor.com

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    What a sweet Christmas Romance story... I simply Love Helen's Italian Christmas series
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This was a good story but predictable. The author could have spiced it up a bit.

Book preview

Italian Christmas Baby - Helen Scott Taylor

Italian Christmas Baby

By

Helen Scott Taylor

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Copyright © 2014 Helen Taylor

Cover design © Helen Taylor

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The right of Helen Taylor to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act, 1988.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the Copyright owner.

Chapter One

Emily Trevathan had everything prepared for the birth of her baby in four weeks. Her Cornish cottage was full of baby equipment, and a newborn-sized car seat was already strapped into the back of her car. With enough money saved so she wouldn't have to take any translation jobs for a while after the birth, she planned to devote herself to her baby. The only thing she hadn't done was tell the father.

She stared out the back window of the taxi at banners advertising Future Tech Convention. All along the road from the station to the convention center, the light poles were decorated with futuristic images of robots, space vehicles, and other tech stuff.

The taxi peeled away from the line of traffic heading for the car park and stopped in the drop-off zone outside the convention center just outside London. Emily paid the driver and pushed open her door. Finally the time had come; she couldn't put it off any longer.

Savino Marin was a big shot in the world of robotics and a keynote speaker at the convention. He was also about to become a father, although he didn't know that yet—and she had no idea what his reaction would be.

Right up until he'd walked away from her eight months ago, she'd believed he was a nice guy. Their whirlwind affair had only lasted three weeks, but she'd fallen truly, madly, deeply in love with him and thought she'd met her soul mate. From the passionate, devoted way he'd behaved, she'd assumed he felt the same. It just showed one should never assume anything.

Emily stepped out of the taxi, pressed her palms to the small of her back, and stretched. Her auntie Bea said pregnancy suited her and she glowed. She'd certainly felt well and enjoyed the experience so far. Apart from a little backache and weariness during the last few weeks, and needing to use the bathroom every thirty minutes, she felt fine.

The bitter bite of the December wind urged her forward to join the people heading through the row of glass doors into the massive convention center. She handed over her credit card and held out her arm for the paper wristband that showed she'd paid.

Trying not to waddle, she hitched her bag strap on her shoulder and headed for the ladies' facilities. Once she'd relieved herself, she brushed her windblown hair and added a fresh coat of lipstick. She might be the size of a hippopotamus, but she still wanted to look her best when she faced Savino.

Savi, she whispered, her chest suddenly tight with pain as the reality of what she was about to do hit her. Heart pounding, she gripped the sink and pulled in a deep breath, trying to stay calm. She kept telling herself she'd moved on and she didn't care about him anymore. But he'd hurt her so much. How would she cope with seeing him again?

When she'd first found out she was pregnant, she'd been too raw and heartbroken to contact him. As the months passed, good sense won out and she'd accepted he had a right to know. More importantly, she would not deprive her baby boy of his daddy. She just hoped Savino would want to know his son.

Gathering her composure, she checked the floor plan in the program to find the route to the main auditorium where Savino was scheduled to speak.

After leaving the bathroom, Emily joined the throng of people tramping along the aisles between the booths, her hand resting protectively on her baby bump. She tried to rehearse in her mind what she planned to say to Savino, but she could hardly think for nerves, and it was so noisy.

The rumble of conversation all around was punctuated by electronic squeaks, beeps, and clicks as business people mixed with members of the public, all pushing to see the displays of cutting-edge technology.

At last she eased out of the crowd towards the door that led into the lecture room. Someone came out as she approached. For a few seconds, the fluid, melodic tone of Savino's Italian-accented English leaked out of the room before the door closed.

The shock of hearing his voice stilled Emily's feet. She rested a hand on the wall and closed her eyes as the last eight months of trying to forget him fell away. Suddenly she was back in her hotel room in Brussels with Savino. She'd been working as a translator in the European parliament while he was there giving advice to a committee examining the ethics of using artificial intelligence.

How sweetly he'd kissed her that last morning when they finished their breakfast in bed, as if she were precious and fragile and he really cared for her. While they dressed, she'd asked him when they could see each other again. He'd turned to look in the mirror to knot his tie. I'm too busy for a serious relationship, he'd said.

He'd gone on, explaining how he had to travel and so did she. How they would never have time to see each other. But his excuses barely penetrated Emily's shock and hurt. Thirty minutes later, he'd walked out of her life and she hadn't spoken to him since.

She kidded herself she'd recovered and moved on, but she hadn't. That memory still tore her up inside nearly as much as the moment it happened. She kept asking herself how she'd been so wrong, how she'd thought he cared for her when he obviously

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