Miracle for the Girl Next Door (12 page)

“When did you get this scar?” she asked some time later, having discovered it while she was kissing his eyelids.

“I don’t remember,” he answered in a husky voice. “At sea, I think.”

He reversed their position so he was half lying on top of her. “There’s not a mark on your skin anywhere. It’s like a baby’s. Absolutely like velvet and flawless. Everything about you is flawless.”

Clara raised her head to kiss the end of his nose. Unused to his compliments, she said, “Except on the inside.” But the second the words were out, she regretted them.

With that slip, the enchantment of the moment was gone—not for her, but for him. She knew it by the way he checked himself before moving away from her and lying back on the blanket.

She couldn’t bear for this to end and leaned over him. “Don’t you want to play anymore?”

 

Valentino
had
been playing with his wife. He’d never enjoyed anything so much in his life. But if this was just a game to her to make
him
happy, then it changed the rules.

He hated games.

Clara wasn’t like other girls who’d passed through his life. She’d been the different one.
His rock
. You didn’t trifle with her kind.

When he dug deep down, he realized he didn’t want her trifling with him. Anyone else, but not his
piccola
.

Not unless she meant it
.

With this new weight troubling him, he felt confused and restless. He raised his hand to smooth some of the hair away from her flushed cheek. “I could play with you all day, but the sky’s getting darker and the temperature has dropped. We can’t afford to get caught in a storm. The last thing you need is to come down with a cold.”

Valentino saw the glint of pain in her eyes before she moved away and got to her feet. Her kidney disease was a fact of life. Since leaving the villa he’d been the one to live in denial. Yet not even the game he’d started—the game he knew she’d enjoyed and would still enjoy if they continued—could make either of them forget. That would be asking the impossible.

 

Ten minutes after they’d arrived back at the villa, the rain started. While Clara disappeared into the shower to get warmed up, Valentino heated the chicken and pasta her mother had brought.

As soon as lunch was over they were expecting an important visitor. His wife would be surprised, but he knew it would be a good one. “Clara? Lunch is ready,” he called to her.

“I’m coming.” Within seconds she appeared in the kitchen dressed in a thin light blue cotton wrapper like the one she’d worn last night. It had long sleeves and fell to her knees, barely hinting at the lovely mold of her body beneath. Evidently it was a style and weight she found comfortable for her treatments. “This looks delicious, Tino. Thank you.”

“We have your mother to thank for a few more days, then the real test will come when you have to survive on my cooking.”

One graceful eyebrow lifted. “You mean
our
cooking. We’ll be sharing the work around here.”

He let her comment pass and poured them coffee before sitting down at the table with her. Their morning jaunt had
depleted her strength. She would never admit it unless she had to, but he’d been around her long enough to tell when she was getting tired. Her eyelids fluttered a little and she lost some color.

As they were finishing the last of their food, he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up in the rear courtyard. Clara heard it, too, and looked at him in surprise since no one could enter the grounds without authorization. “Are you expecting someone?”

He nodded. “I set the master switch to open the gate. Sit still and I’ll get the door.”

Once outside, he greeted Serena and the two other clinicians who’d come with her. After telling her she’d find Clara in the kitchen, he helped the men unload the mobile dialysis machine and wheel it into the villa.

They were good people to come on a Sunday. Even though he was paying them a great deal extra for this service, he was grateful Clara would be able to get a treatment today and wanted them to know it.

He could hear the two women talking and took advantage of the time to show the men to the bedroom where they could set up the machine. Valentino’s work with Serena had been instructive.

If Clara could do a longer, slower dialysis every night while she slept, not only would it free up her days and give her more energy, it wouldn’t be as hard on her body. She wouldn’t get as many cramps and she’d suffer less nausea. Except for a new kidney, he couldn’t ask for more than that during this interim.

Serena was scheduled to work with Valentino this afternoon, then the men would each come for two nights to continue training him. By then he’d be able to take care of Clara himself. Provided God was in his heaven, she wouldn’t need dialysis once a kidney had been found.

“Hi,” his wife said softly as she came in the bedroom with Serena, her gaze finding Valentino’s. “This was an amazing surprise considering it’s a Sunday. Thank you. All of you,” she added the last. Her moist green eyes reflected her gratitude. It brought a boulder to his throat.

“Shall we get started?” Serena asked. “Since you’ll be getting a longer treatment tonight, we’ll do a shorter session now. Clara? While you get comfortable on the bed and roll up your sleeve, I’ll ask Valentino to wash his hands, then put on rubber gloves. We’ll leave a box of them in the bathroom.”

Three hours later everyone left with the proviso that Carlo would be back at eleven p.m.

Valentino saw them out, then went back to the bedroom with some juice and a roll for Clara. She was sitting up against the pillows. Her color was somewhat improved. He put her food on the bedside table next to her. “How do you feel?”

“I was just going to ask
you
the same question.”

“If you want to know the truth, I’m relieved we’ve gotten this far.”

“You’ve taken on a huge responsibility.” Her voice throbbed.

“It’s what I wanted.”

She eyed him soulfully. “I believe you, but that doesn’t make it any easier on you.”

“The job itself isn’t difficult.”

Her brows formed a delicate frown. “Tell me what’s troubling you the most.”

“It’s something Serena said.”

“What was that?”

“She said that humans might have invented a dialysis machine to filter out the impurities that our kidneys can’t, yet it can only do fifteen percent of the job done by a four-ounce kidney God created. We’re going to find you a kidney, Clara,” he whispered almost savagely. “I won’t rest until then.”

She patted the bed. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world to be married to you. Come and lie down by me. You look tired. Don’t deny it.”

He flashed her a wry grin. “I won’t.”

While she ate and drank, he stretched out next to her and closed his eyes. A few minutes later he felt her fingers furrow through his hair. Her touch electrified him. “Did I tell you I had the most wonderful day of my life today?”

Valentino grasped her hand. “Would you believe me if I told you I felt the same way?”

“They say you can’t go back, but we did.”

His lids opened. “Now I’m anxious to move forward with you. While we were riding on the back roads, I saw that the old Brunello place was for sale.”

“I noticed it, too. It used to be a beautiful little farmhouse, but now it’s run down. The small lemon grove has been sadly neglected.” After she eased her hand from his, she looped her arms around her raised knees covered by the quilt. “Can you imagine any family being willing to give up their land?”

“Maybe there was no one to inherit.”

She made a funny sound in her throat. “In the Rossetti family, that would be unheard of.”

“In the Casali family, too, believe me.” They both smiled. “If you’re feeling good tomorrow, how would you like to drive back there and walk around to get a feel for it?”

A curious look crept into her eyes. “Are you thinking of buying it for an investment?”

“I’d like to buy it for us so we can live there.”

Clara looked shaken. “I don’t understand. What about this villa?”

“It belongs to the Di Rossi family. When Isabella begged me to come home, she talked to her fiancé, Max, about letting me
rent it. I was saved the trouble of having to find a furnished place.”

“I didn’t realize you hadn’t bought it.”

“There are many things we still don’t know about each other. Little did I expect that as soon as I got here, I’d become a married man so fast. Now I want a home of my own to put down roots and build a life with you.”

She scrambled out of bed. “But you own a fabulous villa in Monaco. I’ve seen pictures of it in
Hello
magazine.”

“When I made enough money from the motor-scooter sales, I bought it for an investment, but I rarely live there. Maybe this weekend we can drive there and stay over one night before I sell it. Though the economy is poor, I’m still pestered by a few interested parties who are anxious to take it off my hands. I’ll put the money to good use on our own plot of ground.”

“But, Tino,” she cried, “you’re not a farmer!”

“Maybe not, but I’m married to a farmer’s daughter and Monta Correnti is home to me, too. Does the idea have any appeal,
piccola
?”

Clara’s eyes slid away from his. When shadows darkened her features, he felt as if a giant hand had just cut off his oxygen supply. “Of course it does,” came a small voice, “but I’m afraid you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

Her comment coincided with the ringing of his cell phone. Her crushing reply, guaranteed to stifle all hope of a long life together, turned his mood dark. He finally got off the bed and pulled it out of his pocket.

“It’s your family,” he said after glancing at the caller ID. “Your phone must be turned off. While you talk to them, I’ll make certain the house is closed up for the night.” He tossed the phone on the bed before striding out of the bedroom.

She sank down on the side and reached for it. “Hello?”

“Clara? Are you all right? Valentino told us he’d arranged for you to start your dialysis at home today.”

“He did, Mamma. Serena just left. I—I couldn’t be better.” Physically it was true. Getting another treatment this afternoon instead of having to wait until tomorrow had already made a difference in how she felt.

Because of Valentino she wouldn’t have to go to the clinic anymore. From now on she’d sleep through her treatments and start to live life during the day like a normal person. But the situation with him was unraveling fast. Twice today she’d said something to ruin the moment. Father Orsini had counseled her to make her husband happy.

“You’re doing a great job, Clara.”

“What did you say?” her mother asked.

“Sorry. I was thinking out loud. Thank you for all the wonderful food. Valentino sings your praises.”

“He’s a wonderful man.”
I know
. “Even your father says so.”

Her parents would be overjoyed if they knew about his plans to purchase some farming property. She was in awe of his unselfishness, not just because money wasn’t his raison d’être, but because he gave of himself.

Tonight he would have to stay up and work with Carlo till four in the morning while he was trained to perform this service for her. Tears sprang to her eyes and wouldn’t stop running down her cheeks.

“Clara? Are you crying?”

“Yes.”

“Because he makes you so happy,

? He does everything for you.”

“Yes.” Her husband did his duty better than any husband alive. It was time she did something for him in return.

“Both Gina and Lia phoned. I hope it’s all right that I told them you got married.”

“Of course. I’ll call them tomorrow.”

“By now your father has told everyone else in the family.”

Clara smiled. “Pretty soon the word will get out and it will be all over the news. Don’t be surprised if the paparazzi come by the farm for an interview and pictures.”

Her mother laughed. “Come visit us soon.”

“We will, Mamma, and we’ll have you come to the villa for dinner. Tell Papa and Bianca I love them, and tell Nonna that Valentino loves his ring.”

“That will make her happy.”

She bit her lip. “How’s Silvio?”

“Grumpy. He misses you.”

“I lived in Naples for a long time. He didn’t miss me then.”

“Oh, yes, he did, but this is different, and
you know why
,” she whispered.

Just then her brother’s nemesis walked in the bedroom. She needed to talk to him. “Kiss little Paolito for me.
Buona notte
, Mamma.”

Wiping the moisture off her face, she hung up. “My parents send their love.”

A mask had descended over his arresting features. He took the phone from her. “No doubt they’re worried about you.”

“Actually they think I’m in the best of hands, which I am.” Her voice trembled. “Talking with Mamma brought your father to mind. Could we go visit him tomorrow after we’ve been out to the Brunello farm?”

He placed his phone and wallet on top of the dresser. “I think we’d better put both those ideas on hold for the time being.”

“I don’t want to,” she said with a pounding heart. He darted her a quizzical glance. “You’ll have to forgive me for speaking so impulsively earlier. Ever since I was diagnosed, I’m afraid I stopped planning for a future and have been trying to be content by living day-to-day.”

His mouth thinned. “In your shoes I would probably do the same thing.”

“But we’re husband and wife now, and I’m not the only person in this marriage. Naturally you’re not going to be content renting a place when you could have your own home in the countryside we both love. It was shortsighted of me. Please let’s drive out there tomorrow and look at the house.”

To her relief Valentino rubbed the back of his neck, a sign that he was thinking, listening. “I’ll phone the realtor in the morning and we’ll go from there.”

“Good!” She was pleased he’d agreed to that much. “Do you think your father’s too sick for company?”

“No.”

When he didn’t say anything else she said, “You’re tired. I’m going to go in the study and watch television while you get some sleep. The bed in this room is bigger than the one in the guest bedroom. Eleven o’clock will be here before you know it.”

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