Gianni's Pride by Kim Lawrence

challenge Miranda would provide.
    Gianni saved his energy for boardroom fights; in bed he preferred something involving less effort emotionally. But anyway it was all academic. She knew Liam; that put her off limits romantically speaking. After the Laura incident he made damn sure that his lovers and his son had no contact. It was the one unbreakable rule … The question was, would it be so bad to bend it a little … temporarily?
    His lips twisted into a grimace as he reminded himself of the mistakes he’d made in his first relationship as a single father—the first had been letting it last too long, the second had been letting his tiny son become attached to Laura.
    It had not even crossed Gianni’s mind to consider the potential impact having a girlfriend might have on his son. At the time he’d still been adjusting to his role as a single parent and proving himself in his new job at the time, as a political editor for a broadsheet. On both counts it had been a steep learning curve. Being embedded with the military in a war zone had been a stroll in the park by comparison. A high-maintenance girlfriend was the last thing he had needed, but he had also recognised he wasn’t equipped to live the life of a monk. Though there had been occasions since then he had wondered if the short-lived affair had been less about satisfying his sexual desires and more about a need to prove to himself that he was over Sam, while at the same time ridding himself of any lingering concern that making a total fool of yourself or standing there with a sign saying ‘rip out my heart then stamp on it’ were habit forming.
    It turned out they weren’t. At no time during the enjoyable interlude with Laura had he felt a return of the crazy compulsion to declare his undying love. But then neither had he begun a day by having his life saved by a helmet that took a bullet intended for his skull.
    In the euphoria that had followed this brush with death he had decided that life was too damned short. Why waste time on the formalities, the polite conventions of courtship, when it was obvious that he and Sam were meant to be together—it was inevitable.
    So, bottle of champagne in his hand, a lurid bruise beginning to develop on his forehead, spent bullet in his camouflage jacket pocket and not a thought of rejection in his head, Gianni had proposed to the woman he had been convinced was his soul mate only to have her look deeply embarrassed.
    Sam’s admission that she wasn’t looking for a relationship, let alone marriage—but the sex had been good—had not been intentionally cruel, but Gianni, who for the first time in his life had imagined himself in love, had still felt as though someone had kicked him hard in his most vulnerable region.
    Having experienced it once, only a fool would invite that sort of pain and humiliation again, so instead of looking for love he had invited Laura into his bed and it had been a mutually enjoyable interlude.
    When they were together he had enjoyed the sex and when they were not together he had not thought about her—perfect. The end of the arrangement a few months later when Laura had started dating a senior partner in the law firm where she worked had not left him bitter and twisted. He had not felt slighted when Laura had said she would miss Liam and not him. It was only when it became clear that Liam was missing the pretty woman who had entered his life and then left that he realised how selfish he had been.
    The solution was to his mind obvious: in future he would keep his lovers and his son separate. Some women didn’t like the boundaries he set, but no woman was to his mind indispensable—but this one was very desirable, he conceded as his hooded gaze slipped back to Miranda’s bottom before lifting to the outline of her small plump breasts.
    An image of her lying in the bed beside him formed in Gianni’s head; the warm scent of her body, the smooth, satiny skin. He found his firm resolve wavering