The Valtieri Marriage Deal (9 page)

‘How can it be your fault?’ she asked, remembering her patient Lindsey telling her husband Mike that it was his fault and him reminding her that she’d been the one to forget her pills.

‘I should have taken care of you,’ he said gruffly, ‘not been so wrapped up in my own needs that I forgot something so basic and simple as protecting you when we made love.’

His words curled round her heart, and she felt a fissure open up in her defences. ‘Luca, I was there, too. It wasn’t just your fault.’

His hand came up and cradled her cheek, and his eyes were sombre. ‘Nevertheless, I should have been the one to take control of that part of it, and I’m sorry to have put you in this situation, but I
will
stand by you, Isabella. I will be here, and if and when we marry, it will be for ever. I will never leave you, or divorce you, or let you down intentionally, and I will absolutely, categorically, never be unfaithful. It isn’t the man I am.’

His words nearly reduced her to tears, but he had such faith in their ability to make this work, and she wasn’t sure she could share it. Not yet.

‘Can we just take one step at a time?’ she asked with a fragile little laugh, and he smiled and cupped her cheeks in his hands.

‘Good idea,’ he murmured, and, bending his head, he feathered a kiss over her mouth, teasing her lips apart with a soft stroke of his tongue so that she opened to him with a tiny sob of need. How could she want him so badly? Need him so damned much, after so short a time?

She didn’t know. She just knew that his kiss, his touch, his
arms were what she’d been waiting for her entire life, and nothing had ever felt so right.

‘Isabella,’
he groaned, his fingertips shaking as they traced her jaw, his eyes on fire. ‘I have to go.’

‘No,’ she said, her hands holding him against her, and after a breathless moment, he gave an untidy sigh and wrapped her hard against his chest.

‘I
have
to go. You aren’t ready for this. We already know we’re good in bed. You need to get to know me,
bella,
know if you can share your life with me, and this is just a beautiful distraction. Come on, let me go. We agreed.’

He squeezed her gently, then let her go, and she could have cried.

‘I’ll come back tomorrow,’ he promised. ‘We’ll go shopping for you.’

‘Shopping?’ she said, dazed. ‘What kind of shopping?’

He shrugged. ‘Clothes for our holiday? We could go to Harvey Nichols or Harrods.’

She felt her jaw sag. ‘I’ve never been there in my life!’ she said. ‘And besides, why do I need clothes? I have clothes.’

‘Enough clothes? No woman has enough clothes.’

She ignored the teasing smile. ‘I have plenty. Why would I need more?’

‘To take to Italy?’ he said softly. ‘To meet my family? We—well, no, we don’t exactly dress for dinner, but we change into something a little smarter. And if we’re there a week or so…’

Oh, lord, he was serious! She’d thought he was joking, but clearly not. ‘I don’t know how much holiday I’ve got,’ she flannelled. ‘When are you thinking of going?’

He shrugged. ‘Soon? A week? Two? We’ll have to take a look at the rota.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Two weeks? What about booking?’

‘Booking what? We’ll stay in Tuscany with the family.’

‘But—we have to get there.’

He just smiled. ‘I’m sure we’ll find a flight,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.’

And with a gentle, lingering kiss, he left her, feeling just a teeny bit like Alice falling down the rabbit hole…

‘So—what do you need?’

Isabelle shrugged and laughed a little wildly. ‘I have no idea. You tell me. I’m quite happy to go with what I’ve got.’

‘What have you got?’

She shrugged again, running a mental eye over her wardrobe. Not that she needed to, it was sparse enough to see with one quick glance. ‘I’ve got a nice dress that I feel good in. And a couple of pairs of trousers that are quite smart, and some pretty tops. How cold is it in your parents’ house?’

‘Not cold, but it can get draughty. You’ll need jumpers, perhaps a couple of little jackets? And more than one dress. We may be invited out, and we’ll go for lunch, maybe go out for dinner. You’ll need quite a few changes for all that.’

She thought of her lovely little dress, and sighed. ‘Luca, I really don’t see the point. I am what I am.’

‘Of course you are, and I don’t want anybody to think anything else, but I don’t want you feeling under pressure because you haven’t got anything to wear. And if you have only one dress…’

‘I won’t feel under pressure. But I don’t want to go today. I’ll get something next week on my days off.’

‘No. This was my idea.’

‘Then I’m not going to Italy.’

She’d folded her arms, and she had that mulish look on her face again, the chin tilted up, the eyes flashing a challenge that did nothing except give him an overwhelming desire to take her straight to bed.

‘OK. We’ll do something else today,’ he suggested, saving the shopping trip for another day when she was feeling less combative. Maybe in Florence, if she agreed.

She hesitated, then nodded. ‘All right. Can we go out into the country and take a walk by the Thames? I love walking in the countryside and to be honest fresh air is much more appealing than trailing round stuffy shops. And yesterday was such fun.’

He gave in, knowing when he was beaten. For now. ‘Come on, then, let’s go, and we’ll have lunch somewhere in a pub by the water. Happy now?’

She smiled, her eyes softening. ‘Happy,’ she said, and his heart melted. Tucking her coat round her shoulders, he ushered her out to his car, buckled her in and set off.

They had a wonderful day. The sun shone on them, the water sparkled and they found a lovely pub right on the river for lunch.

And Luca was like he’d been in Florence, flirting with her, attentive, funny and just plain gorgeous, and she found herself falling headlong even further in love, despite her best efforts.

Would marriage to him be so bad? She didn’t know, but it was irrelevant, she told herself, because he hadn’t asked her, anyway.

Until they got back to her house, and he made her a drink and sat down beside her on the sofa and took her hand in his. ‘So,
cara,
have you enjoyed the weekend?’

‘You know I have. It’s been lovely.’

‘And could you see yourself spending other days like that with me? All of them?’

Her heart speeded up, and she searched his eyes. ‘What are you saying, Luca?’ she asked softly, confused and stupidly, ridiculously hopeful.

His mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘I believe I’m asking you to marry me,’ he said gruffly. ‘Only I’m not doing it very well, if you can’t work it out. So—do you think you could? Marry me, and spend your life with me, bringing up our child? There would be all sorts of advantages—a huge family, for both of you, for a start. I know that’s something you lack, and something I could provide with bells on. There would be lots of little cousins for the baby, and devoted uncles and aunts and grandparents—have you told your mother yet, by the way?’

She shook her head, still wondering if he was proposing that she marry him or his family, and wondering if there was actually a difference or if it might be one and the same thing.

‘You should. She needs to know. And so do my parents, but I’d like something a little more concrete to tell them—preferably that we’re going to be married. But that’s your call.’

She swallowed. It was such a huge step, and she wasn’t at all sure she was ready for it, but it would give her baby security, and love, and she would know that if anything happened to her, God forbid, the child wouldn’t be alone. And she knew that was something that had worried her mother a great deal.

‘If I said yes—there would have to be conditions,’ she warned, and he raised a brow.

‘Conditions?’

She nodded. ‘I want a pre-nuptial agreement, so that my house is protected for the baby. I know that probably seems silly to you, since your house is worth much more than mine, but I need that security, in case anything happens in the future.
And I’m not interested in your house. That’s not what this is about. My childhood was so uncertain, and I just want to protect my baby’s future.’

She wanted a pre-nup? He nearly laughed out loud. If she’d had the slightest idea how rich he was, just how much family money was behind him, she would have been mortified. But clearly she didn’t, or she wouldn’t have suggested it for an instant. She’d be mad to.

‘Well?’

He smiled slightly. ‘OK—but there are conditions on my side, too. At some point, we’ll probably end up moving back to Italy. Can you do that? Would you?’

Her eyes widened. ‘Move there? To live?’

‘Si.
It’s my home. It’s where I live, where I want my child brought up, ideally, surrounded by his family, so that he knows who he is and understands my place in his life, but we’ll make sure the house will remain cared for so you can stay in it when we come back to England to visit your friends and family, if you don’t want to stay in mine.’

‘Luca, I can’t!’

He lifted a brow. ‘Can’t? Can’t what?’

‘Live in Italy,’ she said, panic starting to choke her. ‘I can’t speak a word of Italian, Luca! I struggled to order a coffee.’

‘You can learn,
cara,’
he said, his voice softening persuasively. ‘It’s not so hard. And all my family speak perfect English. Think of the advantages—beautiful countryside, a warm, loving family…’

‘Suffocating, you said,’ she reminded him, the panic invading every part of her, and he smiled gently.

‘They can be, but mostly it’s wonderful. And the weather is fantastic. You’ll love it.’

He let his words hang for a moment, then lifted his shoulders. ‘So that’s my choice for us, anyway. I marry you, we live in Italy, at least at some point in the future, and we bring up our child—our children—together. The choice is yours,
cara.
You don’t have to marry me, of course you don’t, but there are huge advantages for all of us, and I know it’ll mean compromises for you, but we can’t just think about ourselves any more. Let me know when you’ve decided—but you need to know that this will be a proper marriage, one that we work on together. I’ll give you and our child the protection of my name, but you won’t have affairs and neither will I, you and the child will live with me and there will be no divorce, Isabelle. When I marry, it will be for life. I won’t betray you, and I’ll give it everything I have, but I won’t give up on us, and I don’t expect you to. So don’t say yes unless you’re absolutely sure.’

She stared into his eyes, her mind reeling. Live in Italy, with Luca—or here, without him, with the child dragged from pillar to post, shared custody, rows about access, the trauma and drama of holidays and birthdays and Christmas? And in Italy there’d be a family, a great, huge suffocating family to love their baby to pieces.

If she didn’t marry him, there was the possibility that she could face the future alone and without support. She had friends and family, but would they pay her bills when she was sick, or look after the baby if she died?

She felt her jaw sag, and snapped it up and turned away hastily. She hadn’t given that possibility serious thought, but what if she
did
die? Accidents happened. Would he have her baby? And if so, would he know their child, or would it be a stranger to him? Would the baby know him, if they lived in
different countries? Or even be able to speak the same language as its new-found family?

‘Difficult, isn’t it,
cara?’
he murmured, and she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Emotion was another thing, she’d discovered, that pushed her nausea over the edge, and she could feel her throat closing with the prospect of all that uncertainty.

If her mother had been the one to die and not her father, would she have gone to him? And would he have loved her? What if she didn’t marry Luca and he married someone else who had his children? Would her child be welcomed by them if she died, any more than she would have been welcomed by her father’s other family? She doubted it.

At a time when his or her world had already fallen apart, her baby could be lonely and isolated and afraid. Without any emotional security.

And that, above all, was the thing that mattered. Luca and his family represented security, a safety net for all of them, and that was something she’d never had and always yearned for.

There was no contest, really. She found a rather wobbly smile and took a deep breath.

‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I will marry you, Luca. And we’ll make it work.’

He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he was smiling. ‘Thank you. I’ll tell my mother—she can start planning.’

‘Planning what?’ she asked, a horrible suspicion suddenly entering her mind. ‘I don’t want a big wedding.’

He laughed. ‘Neither do I, but I have a huge family.’

‘No. I’m not joking, Luca. I won’t marry you if it has to be a big wedding. I was going to do that last time, and it was
all planned and bought and organised, right down to the name cards for the tables. I don’t want that again. I just want to marry you.’

He studied her thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded slowly and to her surprise he backed down. ‘OK—but I want to do this surrounded by my close family, at least, and some old friends. And your mother should be with you,
tesoro.
We could get married in the local church?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Can’t we get married in a registry office? I just—I want a really simple ceremony, no fuss. Just a couple of witnesses. Please, Luca. I can’t face all that razzamatazz.’

‘We must have family.’

She shrugged. ‘Really? It hardly seems worth it—it’s not like it’s a proper wedding. It’ll be over in half an hour.’

Luca opened his mouth, shut it again and said nothing. She was asking him to marry without his family, in a civil ceremony—because it wasn’t a
proper wedding?