The Valtieri Marriage Deal (8 page)

She eased herself into it, lay back and sighed with relief.

Five minutes, she promised herself. Even Luca couldn’t shop that quickly…

The house was in silence.

He went into the kitchen, put away all the shopping and then crept upstairs to check on her. Her bedroom was empty, her
clothes dropped where she’d taken them off, and so he walked across the landing to the bathroom and eased open the door.

She was asleep, lying with her knees rested to one side and her hands curled over her abdomen, and just the sight of her brought a lump to his throat.

Not the surge of lust he’d expected, but another wave of tenderness. He wanted to wake her, to lift her from the water and dry her and put her to bed, but he knew she’d only get mad at him, so he pulled the door to and tapped on it gently.

‘Isabelle? Are you in there?’

There was a little gasp and a splash, and he could picture her sitting up and clutching her arms across her breasts. ‘Um—yes. I’m not decent—hang on.’

‘It’s OK. I’m going back downstairs. I was just letting you know I’m back.’

‘Oh. Thanks, Luca. Goodnight.’

Goodnight?

Stifling a strange disappointment, he went downstairs, made himself a drink and sat in front of the television, trying to focus on the news and failing. He picked up the paper that was lying on the table and finished the Sudoku he’d started. Except there were some numbers that weren’t in his writing, and he realised she’d been doing it. Which was why it was wrong, he thought, and corrected it with a smile. Then he finished the crossword, filling in the last two words just as she appeared in the doorway.

‘Hi,’ she said, tugging at the hem of the T-shirt and triggering the surge of lust he’d expected earlier. He wanted to tug at the hem of it, too, but he’d tug it the other way.

He dragged his eyes up to her face. ‘Kettle’s hot. I bought some herbal teabags—I thought you might like them. There’s
a selection on the side. Choose one and I’ll make it for you and bring it up.’

‘I’ll do it. I was going to take the paper up—I wanted to finish the crossword.’

‘Ah.’

Her eyes flew up to his and she snatched it out of his hand. ‘Have you done it? You have, haven’t you? You rat—
and
the sudoku!’

‘It is my paper—and I’d started it,’ he pointed out fairly, but she wasn’t pacified.

‘That’s not the point—I’d spent
ages
working out the last clue!’ she retorted, then threw the paper down again with an exasperated sigh and spun on her heel, giving him a flash of thigh and the peep of a warm, pink buttock scantily covered by lavender lace as the hem flicked up and then dropped back into place, and he felt a surge of desire that nearly took his legs out from under him.

‘I think I’ll go to bed,’ she said from the doorway, her chin up in the way he was beginning to find rather endearing.

‘You could sit here and talk for a minute,’ he suggested, but as he’d expected she shook her head.

‘No way,’ she said briskly. ‘I’m going to get my tea and then I’m going to bed. And don’t go getting any ideas. I might be having your baby, but that doesn’t mean we’re together. Nothing’s changed.’

He gave a soft snort. Funny, that. He hadn’t doubted it for a moment. Unfortunately…

She woke to the sound of movement in the kitchen, and a wave of nausea that took her by surprise. She got cautiously out of bed, but just the act of standing had her running to the
bathroom, and when she lifted her head it was to see Luca’s legs in view, his hand extended with a handful of tissue for her to blow her nose and wipe her eyes.

Her teeth were chattering with reaction, and he sighed and bent to help her up.

‘I’m sorry,
cara
,’ he murmured, guiding her back to bed. ‘I meant to come to you in time.’

‘In time?’

‘Si—
with breakfast.’

‘Oh, God, don’t,’ she said, feeling her throat close at the very suggestion, but he just tucked her into bed like a child and handed her a glass of fizzy water.

‘Sip it slowly.’

She tasted it, tried a little, then put it down. ‘OK. What’s that?’ she asked, eying the plate on the bedside table suspiciously.

‘Apple. Chilled apple slices. And watermelon. Just nibble them. They’ll give you some sugar and settle you, and the clean flavour is good, according to my sister.’

She sat up abruptly—not wise. ‘You’ve told your sister?’

He gave her a crooked smile and shook his head. ‘No. But because I’m an obstetrician, I discussed it with her when she was pregnant. I have a mental note of things that help and things that definitely don’t.’ His smile twisted. ‘All caffeine products are banned from my life now,’ he said wryly, ‘so forgive me if my temper gets a bit ragged. It’s not personal.’

She wasn’t looking forward to his ragged temper, but it knocked spots off the smell of coffee. She took a proffered apple slice and nibbled it cautiously, and after a moment the rebellious churning in her stomach subsided a little and she tried another bit, then more, the watermelon this time.

‘OK?’

She nodded. ‘Yes—thanks.’

‘I’ll fetch you some dry toast and herbal tea, and then we’ll talk.’

He left her with the plate of apple and watermelon slices and went away, and she lay there and wondered what he wanted to say. A long, almost sleepless night hadn’t helped refine her thoughts, except to reinforce her initial fiercely protective reaction. Would he share it? Or would he try to talk her into—no! Her mind recoiled from the thought, but she realised he hadn’t mentioned the baby again, and she had no idea how he’d feel about her keeping it. How would he see his future involvement in her child’s life—or wouldn’t he?

She had no idea, but there was only one way to find out, and the sooner the better. She threw back the bedclothes and went to wash.

Luca shut the kitchen door, opened the back door and made some toast, then once the smell had gone, he made a cup of ginger and lemon tea, because ginger root was supposed to suppress nausea, and put a scrape of sugarless fruit compote on the toast and took it upstairs, tapping on the bedroom door as he pushed it open.

He should have waited. Clearly he should have waited, because she was naked, in the act of threading her second foot into the pair of ridiculously lacy French knickers he’d glimpsed last night that had sent his blood pressure through the roof, and as she shrieked and straightened up to cover herself, he was treated to the gentle sway and bounce of her breasts, the nipples a glorious dark rose, darker than they had been before and bigger, pebbling in the cold and making his lips ache to suckle them.

She glared at him. ‘You’re supposed to wait when you knock,’ she told him crossly, and he swallowed and tried not to choke on his tongue.

‘You were supposed to stay in the bed until I brought you breakfast,’ he reminded her, his self-control falling apart under the strain of standing there with her all but naked just feet away from him.

‘Well, you can go now,’ she snapped, whirling round and reaching for the bra she’d placed on the bed.

Lace, to match the knickers, in the same pale lavender as her eyes, and he thought,
Dio,
I’ll never be able to look at her eyes again without thinking of the underwear. Swallowing hard, he turned on his heel and headed back downstairs to wait for her, her breakfast tray still clutched in his hands, forgotten.

And he’d imagined all those weeks that he was over her? Not in his wildest dreams.

She came down a few moments later, looking fragile and wary but with her head held high, and he’d never wanted a woman more in all his life.

She perched on a stool at the breakfast bar and he pushed the tray towards her. ‘Eat. And drink the tea. It’s lemon and ginger. It’ll soothe your stomach.’

She sipped it, pulled a face and nibbled the toast. ‘Did you sleep?’ he asked, and she nodded.

‘Yes—a bit. Not much. I was thinking.’

‘Me, too. I was thinking that I want you out of that awful rented house with the hideously uncomfortable furniture, and into my house where at least I’ll be able to look after you. It’s only sensible—it’s right next to the hospital, and you can’t do that journey while you’re pregnant, it’s much too long and dangerous.’

She was staring at him, her eyes flashing fire, and she set the cup down with a wobbling hand and met his eyes.
‘That awful rented house
,’ she said in a measured tone that made him realise he’d overstepped the mark, ‘happens to belong to me. And I will not move out of it. I know the journey’s difficult, but I can get a cab—at least for the end of the day.’

It was
her house?
He could have kicked himself. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise the house was yours. I just assumed—’

‘Well, don’t,’ she said crisply. ‘I don’t need your assumptions, or your instructions on how to live my life. In fact, I need nothing from you at all, except one thing,’ she went on, her chin lifting. ‘In case you’re worried about it, I’ve decided to keep the baby,’ she told him, throwing up a subject that hadn’t even crossed his mind, ‘and I don’t want anything from you, so don’t even think about getting all macho and insisting we get married, because the answer’s no. I just want your name on the birth certificate.’

L
UCA FELT HIS
jaw drop.

Of all the things she could have said, that was absolutely the last he was expecting.

Sucking in a lungful of air, he shut his mouth and tipped his head on one side.

‘Is that all?’ he said softly, wondering how something that should have been amazing and incredible and a source of celebration could have been reduced to something as technical as a name on a piece of paper. ‘You want my name on the baby’s birth certificate?’

‘Yes. For the baby’s sake. My father died when I was two, and because my mother wasn’t married to him, she had no protection in law, no legal status as a widow, no right to his estate. She’d been buying our house—that
awful
house—for some while, though, so we weren’t homeless, but his wife’s family were dreadful to her.’

He was still wincing over awful, but that got his attention. ‘Wife?’

‘He was married—to someone so emotionally unstable he couldn’t tell Mum about her. And then he died and his wife found out, and it was horrendous for my mother. I didn’t
know anything about it, of course, I was only a few years old, but I gather it was dreadful. And I don’t want that happening to my child.’

No wonder she was so wary. It was enough to make any woman suspicious of men. But he wasn’t her father, and there was no wife waiting to take revenge.

‘Well, if it’s any consolation there’s no wife and I have no intention of dying.’

She glared at him. ‘Will you please be serious?’

‘I’m being totally serious. I’ve never been more serious about anything. But you have to know, Isabella, that I intend to be very much more to my child than a name on a birth certificate, whether I’m married to you or not.’

‘Well, I won’t marry you, so don’t even think of asking me.’

‘I won’t—not yet. I think getting married just because you’ve made a baby between you is a very shaky way to start a marriage, but I would ask you not to rule it out for the future.’

The glare changed, softening into confusion. ‘Luca, I can’t—’ She bit her lip, her eyes filled with pain. ‘I don’t want to get married. I don’t want that sort of relationship.’

‘Well, you should have thought about that before you had unprotected sex, shouldn’t you,
cara?’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Yes, you did. You told me you were on the Pill, but you weren’t, not reliably—not religiously taking it on time, because you weren’t taking it for that reason, and if I’d known that I would have made sure you took the morning-after pill.’

‘I was taking it—I was airsick.’ she said drily. ‘Not even you could have altered the turbulence.’

He gave a brittle laugh. ‘Possibly not, but now I’m facing the reality of becoming a father to a baby whose mother won’t contemplate forming a stable, loving relationship with me.’

‘Luca, you can’t love me!’

‘Why? Why can’t I?’ he demanded.

‘Because you don’t know me,’ she said, her voice distressed, ‘and I don’t know you. I
can’t
love you.’

There was something in her voice that troubled him, and he reached out a hand to cover hers.

‘Why can’t you love me,
cara?’
he asked softly. ‘If you give yourself time, then maybe…’

‘It isn’t time,’ she admitted, her eyes fraught with emotion. ‘And it’s not that I can’t love you, Luca—it’s that I can’t trust you. I can’t trust any man.’

‘Because of your father?’

‘Partly.’

‘And?’ he coaxed. ‘The other part?’

She shook her head, and he sighed softly and lifted her hand into his, cradling it between his palms, willing her to talk to him, to let him in. ‘Who was he, Isabelle? What did he do to you? Tell me,
tesoro.
Talk to me.’

She swallowed hard and tilted her chin in that endearing way, and he saw her eyes were clouded with tears. For a long time he thought she wouldn’t tell him, but then she turned and met his eyes defiantly.

‘He was my fiancé. He changed his mind, just before the wedding, and went back to his old girlfriend. They got married, and the last I heard they had two children and they’d split up. Now you tell me, why should I trust a man after my father and my fiancé have both proved that they can’t stay faithful?’

And that was why, of course, she was wary—not only because of her father, but because of her fiancé, and Luca wanted to find the man and kill him for hurting her so badly.

‘Oh, Isabella,’ he said softly, and without waiting for an invitation, he swung round on the bar stool and drew her into his arms. For a moment she sank against him, then she straightened up and turned away.

‘Luca, stop it! I don’t want to lean on you. I don’t want to need you.’

‘Why? What’s so wrong with needing me? You can’t do everything alone.’

‘Why? My mother did.’

‘And did it make her happy?’

She sucked in a fraught little breath and turned her head away. ‘Luca, I can do this.’

‘Of course you can. But you don’t have to, and I don’t want to be shut out, Isabella. This is my baby, too. I need to be part of its life, on a daily basis—starting now. And you’re going to have to learn to trust me.’

‘How? How on earth am I supposed to do that? Luca, I
can’t!
I don’t know you.’

‘So get to know me. Spend time with me,
cara.
Come to Italy with me and meet my family, see my home, have a bit of fun. We’ll start today—we’ll go out for a walk, get some fresh air, feed the ducks—anything you like.’

She hesitated. It seemed like a lovely idea—and if nothing else, she had to get to know the man who was the father of her child. He couldn’t remain a stranger to her. So she nodded, and said, ‘Yes. All right. But—just that. Just spending time together, no—’

She broke off, and he smiled wryly. ‘No reruns of Flor
ence?’ She nodded. ‘OK. That’s fine. It’s better. Sex is too distracting. We’ll stick to other fun stuff.’

So they did. They went out, via her house so she could change into jeans and trainers and a thick fleece, and they went for a walk on the park near her house and fed the ducks and he made her eat lunch—nothing elaborate, just a simple sandwich in the sunshine outside the pub.

While he was in the pub paying the bill his phone rang, and she stared at it dubiously. ‘Gio,’ she read, and bit her lip. His brother—or one of them.

‘Hello?’

‘Well, that’s not Luca.’

‘No. He’s in the pub, he won’t be a moment. Can I get him to call you?’

‘In a minute. Who’s that?’

‘Isabelle.’

‘So he found you.’

She blinked. He knew about her? ‘Um—yes. We’re working together.’

His brother laughed softly. ‘I knew it. So how much do you know about my brother, Isabelle?’

‘Not much,’ she confessed. ‘Not enough, really.’

‘Well, don’t hurt him. He’s been through enough, and he hasn’t had a relationship that I know of for years. Many, many years. Well, not one that’s lasted more than a few weeks. But he’s a good man, and you seem to have got right under his skin. I’ve never seen him like he was that morning, when he’d left you at the airport. And when he realised he’d missed your call—well, he was pretty mad with himself. He wanted to talk to you.’

‘It wouldn’t have made any difference, I didn’t want to see him.’

‘So—what’s different? What’s changed?’

Oh, lord. She couldn’t tell him. ‘Um—we’re working together,’ she said, flannelling desperately.

‘Not today, if you’re at the pub. So I assume you’re seeing each other.’

‘Sort of,’ she admitted, wondering how much of this she should be sharing with his brother and when Luca was coming back.

‘Well, don’t worry. He’s a good guy, and he’s free—and personally I’d be only too delighted if you got together. He needs a good woman to save him from himself.’

‘But you haven’t met me.’

‘I don’t need to. I’ve only got to hear his voice when he talks about you. I think you might be what he’s been waiting for all his life.’

Luca appeared at her side and arched a brow questioningly, and she turned away, filled with confusion.

‘You can’t—he can’t know that.’

‘I don’t agree. I think he can. And I really hope you’ll give him a chance, because of all the people I know, he’s the best, most decent, honest, reliable man—and the kindest.’ He hesitated, then went on, ‘You have to know he’s been hurt in the past. I don’t want to see that happen again. But just a word of advice—if you hurt him deliberately, or cheat on him or trick him in any way, you’ll have me to deal with—and I don’t lose in a court of law. Get him to call me, can you?’

‘Um—he’s here. Luca, it’s your brother.’

She handed the phone over and stared at him, trying to read his face. When had he been hurt? And how? Who had hurt him? Some woman.
I don’t want to see that happen again
. Her eyes filled with tears and she turned and blinked them hastily away.

‘Luca?’

‘Yes, Gio. I hope you didn’t scare her to death.’

‘I don’t know. If she scares that easily, she’s no good for you. But if you’re getting into this as deep as I think you are, you’d better let me get you a pre-nup organised—and I’m serious about this. We need to talk about it. After what happened—’

‘Sure. If it’s relevant—which it’s not at the moment, I’ll call you.
Ciao.’

He hung up and met her eyes again. ‘Well? What did he say?’

‘Nothing much. I’m sorry I answered your phone, but I didn’t know if it was important.’

‘That’s fine, but I know Gio, he never says nothing. So what did he say?’

‘He seems to think the sun rises and sets on you,’ she said, and he laughed a little roughly and sat down beside her, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

‘I’m sure he didn’t say any such thing.’

No, he’d said that he thought Luca had been looking for her all his life. Was it possible? Could it be true? And could she trust him?

‘He was very protective.’

He laughed at that, too, but there was something guarded in his eyes. ‘Protective? Just what
did
he say?’

‘Only that you’d been hurt.’

His mouth tightened. ‘He talks too much. Anyway, it’s irrelevant and it was years ago.’

‘How many?’

‘Ten? It doesn’t matter. He had no business discussing it with you.’

‘He didn’t,’ she corrected. ‘He just…’

‘What?’

‘Warned me off, I think,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘But only if I meant you harm. He must love you very much. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a brother.’

‘Suffocating,’ he said frankly, ‘and I have two brothers and three sisters, so you can multiply that by five,’ but then he smiled and touched her cheek gently with his hand. ‘Ignore him. He’s just a lawyer. He spends his life immersed in the criminal mind. It distorts his vision.’

She smiled, as she was meant to, and then shook her head. ‘Luca, I can’t just marry you because of the baby.’

‘Of course not. I realise that. And I’m not offering marriage yet. I wouldn’t do that until I was sure of my feelings, and yours. But give us a chance—please. We’re having a good day today. Let’s do it again, see if we have what it takes to make a stable home life for our baby. See if we can fall in love.’

She gave him a sad little smile that twisted something inside him. ‘Oh, falling in love with you isn’t the problem, Luca,’ she said softly. ‘I fell in love with you that first night. It’s trusting I have difficulty with. Trusting any man. And that won’t come easily just because I want it to.’

He felt a surge of hope, then, that they might come out of this with something good, something honest and decent and lasting—because she did want it to, if only he could persuade her to take that leap of faith. And she loved him.

‘Come to Italy with me, meet my family. Ask them all about me. They’ll tell you the truth—especially my brothers. They won’t hold back. You’ll get chapter and verse on every time I borrowed their bikes or stole their girlfriends, and my father will tell you how I used to take his car and return it with an empty fuel tank so he’d run out on the way to the petrol station. You want the truth about me, warts and all, ask my family.’

‘That’s very brave,’ she said, wondering if she’d be so honest or daring, and he just gave a crooked grin and shrugged.

‘There’s a lot at stake,
cara.
It’s going to take some courage, from both of us, but the rewards—’ He broke off and swallowed, and she could see the emotion in his eyes. ‘I want to be a good father, Isabelle. Please don’t deny me the chance.’

It was that which swayed her. The sincerity in his eyes, the genuine wholehearted endorsement from his brother. The not-even-thinly veiled threat.

‘All right,’ she said softly. ‘But I’m scared, Luca. I don’t trust easily, and it’s so long since I’ve had a relationship I’m not sure I know how.’

‘Then we’ll find out together.’ He smiled tenderly and held out his arms, and she moved into them, resting her head on his shoulder and feeling instantly at home. How could she? How was it possible to feel so much at ease with him when her life was in such chaos?

Or maybe it wasn’t in chaos at all. Maybe, for the first time in her whole life, it was actually on the right track…

She spent the rest of Saturday with him, but she wanted to go home in the evening.

‘Stay with me. Let me look after you,’ he said, but she refused, and so he drove her home, picking up some food for her on the way.

He put it in the fridge, closed the door and shook his head. ‘There—that should last you a day or two, you stubborn girl. I wish you’d stay with me.’

‘I’m fine, Luca. Really. I’ll make sure I’ve got a flask of iced water by the bed, and some crackers and an apple. I’ll be fine.’

‘Well, let me stay here, then.’

‘No. Really, I’ll be fine.’

‘I’ll come and see you before you get up.’

‘You don’t need to.’

‘Si,
I do. I want to. It’s the least I can do. This is my fault.’