The Heir The Prince Secures

Behind him, dimly Tess could see the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan skyline across the East River as the Rolls-Royce turned into her neighborhood.

When he’d said he wanted to take responsibility, for a moment she’d actually thought he intended to help raise their child, to be a real father; instead, he just meant money.

She should have been thrilled by his offer. Lola would have told her so in no uncertain terms. But she wasn’t. Stefano made her feel as if she and Esme were merely another unpleasant obligation, like an electricity bill.

Sadness filled her heart. Her shoulders sagged as she turned away, staring out at the Brooklyn street. Her street.

“Tess?”

As they pulled up in front of the bakery, she said in a low voice, “I don’t want your money.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s all arranged. Watson will be back in about two hours, won’t you, Watson?”

“Maybe three, depending on the traffic, Your Highness.”

Stefano reached over the baby’s car seat to take Tess’s hand in his own. “You’re free,” he said in a low voice. “You and the baby can enjoy your lives.” He paused. “Someday you’ll find a man who deserves you both.”

“Thanks,” she said over the lump in her throat, pulling her hand away. His patronizing words burned her to the core. She would have preferred it if he’d told her that he found her boring and that he’d rather eat glass than raise a child. At least then she could have respected his honesty. Instead, he was trying to make it sound like he was abandoning Tess for her