Valentino's Pregnancy Bombshell (11 page)

Before she could speak, Valentino's voice drifted out to them and three pairs of eyes sought him out. He'd stopped to talk to McKenzie.

McKenzie had grown bored quickly with the adult conversation and had asked for ‘Wigga' and Paige, who didn't like her watching too much television, hadn't been able to refuse. Hearing her daughter say actual words was sweeter than the sweetest music in the world and seeing her dance now she could actually hear the music was endlessly thrilling.

They watched as Valentino took McKenzie's hands and danced around with her. McKenzie giggled as he lifted her off the floor and twirled her round, his dark hair almost black compared to her lighter hues. She clapped as he put her down and said, ‘Again.' And Valentino complied, his easy laughter rich and deep.

Laughter you could drown in.

And her broken, fractured, battered, stomped-on heart just about melted in her chest.

‘Oh, my,' Adele said, her hand fluttering to her chest.

Paige dragged her gaze away from the endearing sight of Valentino—a large, virile, Italian man his hands dwarfing McKenzie's torso—twirling her daughter—a little pink fairy girl—round and round. It was exceedingly sexy.

She blasted her mother with an impatient glare. So
he was good with children. Arnie had been great with kids. Had been over the moon about the pregnancy.

But look how quickly he had turned his back when it had come to the crunch.

‘You've won a heart there,' Don commented as Valentino rejoined them on the deck.

Valentino shrugged. ‘I have ten nieces and five nephews back home. Children like to dance in any language, I think.'

‘That they do,' Don agreed.

‘Actually, sir,' Valentino said. ‘I'm glad you're both here.' He looked at Paige, who frowned at him. ‘My cousin Alessandro tells me its tradition here to ask, permission of the woman's parents to marry her. So—'

‘What?' Paige stood up, effectively cutting Valentino off. Had he gone mad? ‘I'm not marrying you, Valentino. I told you that yesterday.'

Valentino reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. He opened it and placed it on the table in front of her.

Paige blinked. The simple square-cut diamond nestled in the satin and dazzled in the direct sunlight. It was simple and beautiful and perfect. Every woman's idea of an engagement ring right there before her. And she wanted to put it on her finger so badly it itched. Instead, she reached down and pushed the lid shut.

‘I said no.'

Don and Adele looked at the box and then at each other. ‘It's pretty traditional to have the woman's consent first,' Don joked, and Adele dug him in the ribs
with her elbow as she fought a smile, mashing her lips together hard.

‘Which he doesn't have,' Paige said adamantly.

‘Paige, I can't allow our baby to be born outside marriage.'

Paige felt the air around her evaporate. ‘Valentino!'

Valentino frowned as Adele gasped and turned to Paige.

‘Baby?' she demanded.

Valentino raked his hand through his hair. She had said she was going to tell them. ‘You haven't told them about the baby?'

Paige shut her eyes and slowly sat down. ‘No,' she said, utterly defeated. ‘Not yet.'

Adele looked at Don. ‘That explains the appetite.' She turned to her daughter and gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Are you okay, darling?'

Valentino could see the worry in their eyes as Paige's parents looked at her with concern. They were no doubt apprehensive about their daughter going into premature labour again.

‘A little shocked actually, Mum. And ravenous.'

‘Maybe that's a good sign?' Adele suggested. ‘You couldn't keep anything down with the twins.'

That was true. She'd actually landed in hospital on a drip twice. ‘Maybe.' Paige nodded. But the truth was she was still scared witless about the pregnancy. And she didn't have to look at her parents to know they were too.

Valentino observed the byplay intently. He could see the prospect of a second pregnancy for Paige didn't just affect her and him. That her parents had
been a major support for Paige and they were understandably concerned.

‘I'm not going to let anything happen to Paige or the baby. You have my word.'

Adele gave a sad smile and squeezed her daughter's hand again. ‘I believe you. But for now I think we'd better leave you both alone to talk this through. We'll take McKenzie out to the park.'

Paige nodded. ‘Thanks.'

Paige's parents rose and Don held out his hand to Valentino. ‘It was nice meeting you. And I appreciate that you want to do the right thing by our daughter.' He dropped his hand after a brief shake. ‘It's been a tough few years for all of us. It hasn't been easy as a father to watch Paige go through what she's been through. I trust you understand our less than enthusiastic response.'

Valentino nodded. ‘Of course.'

Paige was grateful that Valentino waited till they had all departed before he spoke again. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't know your parents were going to be here this morning.'

Paige picked up the velvet box and held it out. ‘That didn't seem to stop you.'

Valentino ignored it. ‘I'm serious about this,
bella
.'

‘So am I.'

‘You are carrying my child. It's the honourable thing to do. My duty. My mother would disown me if I didn't do the right thing.'

Duty and honour. Two things that Arnie hadn't been big on. Still, they weren't the words a girl wanted to hear
when talking marriage. Arnie had said he loved her and couldn't live without her.

That had worked a treat.

Fortunately she was somewhat more evolved now, her heart hardened to flattery. But there was no way she was making the biggest commitment of her life based on anything other than love. And as she'd vowed to never be so stupid again, she just didn't see how it could work.

Paige placed the box back on the table. ‘Listen to yourself. This shouldn't be about what's honourable. About duty. This is a long-term commitment. You are not a long-term guy.'

‘I am now.'

Paige gave him a reproving look. ‘Are you telling me that the first time you laid eyes on me you knew I was the girl you wanted to marry?'

Valentino didn't think it wise to tell her exactly what he had been thinking that day at the wedding. Suffice to say it had come to fruition a few hours later. ‘Love at first sight is not a sound basis for marriage.'

‘Maybe not, but it's a good place to start. What about Daniella? Didn't you take one look at her and know?'

Valentino frowned. ‘I was twenty-four. I'm pretty sure I wasn't thinking with anything north of my belt. It was lust, not love.'

Maybe it had been lust with Arnie too? Maybe she hadn't fallen in love after all. Maybe his flashy, blond good looks and his total adoration of her had blinded her to the real man beneath.

‘And it didn't work out. Neither did you and Arnie.
So maybe approaching marriage like this is the best way to go about it. We don't have to get married straight away, we have time to get to know each other.'

‘My mother would say we should have done that first.'

He shrugged. ‘So would mine.'

Paige smiled despite her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared to ask the next question. ‘Just say I agree to getting married…what happens when you do meet the one and you're trapped in a marriage with me? Do you expect me to be okay with it? Do you expect me to sit back and watch you break our child's heart when you leave me for her? Not to mention McKenzie's heart? Would you fight me for custody?'

‘
Il mio dio!
I haven't thought about any of these things.'

Paige tried not to let his avoidance of the answer have an impact on her. ‘No kidding!'

Valentino's jaw tightened. ‘There will be no other women.'

‘What about sex?'

Valentino frowned. ‘What about it? I thought you liked having sex with me?'

Paige didn't think her liking it was really the issue. That was a no-brainer. ‘If you think I'm going to risk this pregnancy by having sex during it, then you really are crazy.'

Valentino rubbed his forehead. He hadn't thought about that aspect of it.
‘No problemo,'
he dismissed.

‘You seriously expect me to believe you can go without sex for that long?'

Arnie had cited lack of intimacy as one of the reasons
he was leaving and she'd known their defunct sex life had frustrated him. But she had been exhausted, being at the hospital all day and worried sick about the twins, watching Daisy grow steadily more ill. She'd been emotionally numb and physically disconnected from her body, and sex had been the last thing on her mind.

And, besides, it hadn't felt right, enjoying herself while her children were in Intensive Care, fighting for their lives.

Valentino smiled at her incredulity. He should have been angry with her sexist assumption that he was incapable of going without. But he wasn't. ‘You don't think,' he said, his voice dropping an octave as his gaze dropped to the interesting mounds he could now make out beneath her baggy T-shirt, ‘I'm imaginative enough to be able to satisfy you in other ways?'

Paige swallowed and to her dismay her nipples hardened in blatant response to his ogling. Her breasts had been sore and tight and uncomfortable but they seemed to flower beneath his gaze.

She was temporarily speechless.

Valentino caught her gaze and chuckled as she folded her arms across her chest. Good, he had her attention. ‘I don't want to be excluded from the pregnancy, Paige. I want to be around to feel the baby move and kick, to see your belly grow. To help out when you're not feeling well. To get you ice cream and tomato sauce when you wake up with a craving at three o'clock in the morning. I want to get to know McKenzie as well. I'm going to be in her life too.'

Paige wanted to shut her ears to the cosy picture he
was painting. A flash of McKenzie and Valentino dancing flitted through her mind, the look of adoration on her daughter's face as she'd clung to his neck crystal clear.

How could she expose McKenzie to him, like he was asking? Have her love and adore him when, try as she may, she couldn't believe he was going to stick around.

Especially if something happened to the baby.

Yes, he was telling her he would but he'd spent the last decade of his life constantly moving on from one woman to another. Did he seriously expect her to believe he could reverse what by now must be fairly ingrained behaviour?

‘And what if something happens to the baby—?'

‘I told you nothing would happen,' he interrupted.

She held up her finger. ‘Just go with me here on this, okay? Something happens and I go into labour again at twenty-eight weeks or even less and the baby dies. There's nothing keeping us together after that—there's certainly not love. Are you going to tell me you're going to stick around? Or will you run when it all becomes overwhelming because, trust me…' Her voice wavered. ‘It will. What happens to McKenzie then?' Or to her, for that matter. ‘It'll be devastating.'

Valentino ran a hand through his hair. ‘It won't happen.'

‘Goddamn it, Valentino,' she snapped, banging her fist on the table. ‘What if it does?'

‘You're dealing in a lot of what-ifs.'

‘Yeah, well, I have to, I'm her mother, I have to protect her. That's my job.' To say nothing of protecting herself.

Valentino's jaw clenched. ‘I make you a solemn promise. I will not walk away.'

‘But it would be easier for you to go if we didn't marry. If there was no wedding ring holding you here.'

It was Valentino's turn to slam his hand down on the table in frustration. ‘
Dio!
Listen to me. I. Will. Not. Walk. Away.' He punctuated each word with a vicious finger stab at the table.

For what it was worth, she believed him. Right now, at this moment, his conviction was palpable. But Paige knew that life cold throw you curve balls and things could change in a heartbeat.

She also knew this was getting them nowhere. They needed a compromise, something to break the stalemate. ‘You want to get to know me? Us? Then let's just do that for now. I'm not going to stop you from being involved in the pregnancy, Valentino. I will include you as much as possible.' She picked up the box again. ‘Let's spend some time together first and then…' she pushed it across the table to him ‘…we'll see.'

Valentino picked up the box. Paige looked conciliatory and certainly a lot less exasperated. It was a good compromise. She was so skittish, so hurt from her ex, he suspected if he pushed too much she'd never agree. Maybe he'd have to play it cool for a bit. Prove to her he could be the man she needed him to be.

‘So it's not a no? It's a maybe later.'

Paige nodded, even though she knew deep in her heart she would never marry again. ‘That's right.'

Valentino examined the box for a few moments and then put it back in his pocket. ‘I'm going to keep asking.'

And she was going to keep saying no. She smiled at him. ‘I wouldn't expect anything less.'

A
ND
he did. At the end of every week together he asked her again. And at the end of every week she said no. Then they started all over again.

They fell into a routine. He came for tea one night a week after McKenzie was in bed. Paige insisted they wait till her daughter was asleep. She knew how easily McKenzie loved people and she didn't want her becoming too attached.

On Sunday mornings he joined the whole family for breakfast. It seemed less intimate with her parents there as a buffer to his charisma and charm and Paige had to admit she looked forward to it. If for nothing else than to taste what amazing culinary offering he brought with him.

And, of course, they saw each other at work three days a week. Although Paige and Valentino were scrupulous about keeping it strictly professional. No one in the department had an inkling of their private affairs, which was exactly what she wanted.

Paige had also insisted that they tell no one about the baby, including McKenzie, not until she'd passed the
twenty-eight-week mark at least. To her surprise, Valentino agreed. As he had with the McKenzie-in-bed rule. It seemed he didn't want to do anything to upset her.

He treated her with kid gloves. Was attentive and sweet. He fed her tempting, delicious creations at every opportunity and made her laugh. Apart from his weekly proposal he didn't push her into any decisions or even try to make a pass at her, despite how alarmingly she wanted to feel his lips on hers again.

It was an urge that grew with each week of pregnancy into an almost unbearable craving. Forget ice cream with tomato sauce! Her hormones went into overdrive as she entered the second trimester and Valentino looked more and more edible.

But he seemed immune to her vibes. It was like he'd decided her body was a temple for his baby and that she was no longer a woman that he'd kissed and made very thorough love to on two very long nights. She was a mother now. A sacred vessel.

She should have appreciated it. And she did. By and large. But sometimes she just wanted to grab him and smack a kiss on that full sexy mouth so badly she could barely see straight.

When she started to feel the baby move at 16 weeks he came over twice a week for tea and spent all day Sunday with them. Which was harder on the raging libido but involved him more, for which he was very grateful.

And Paige really kept him as involved as possible without them actually living under the same roof. He
attended the weekly ultrasounds and all the doctor's appointments. When it came to discussing the best course of action to prevent another premature labour, she involved him in all the decisions and even looked to him for advice.

Dr Erica de Jongh, the obstetrician, was confident that although Paige was at an increased risk of having a second premature labour, it was highly unlikely she would this time round because the risks factors from her first pregnancy did not exist in this one.

For a start, there was only one baby and from the weekly ultrasounds they could see their baby boy was growing normally, unlike Daisy who had always been small for dates and suffered from borderline intrauterine growth retardation.

Erica saw no reason for intervention, fully confident that Paige would go to full term. It was only the patients who went into premature labour for no apparent reason that she tended to treat more aggressively in subsequent pregnancies.

And even though it was true that Paige would never be entirely relaxed, both she and Valentino had confidence in Erica, who specialised in high-risk pregnancies and were happy with her care and her treatment plan. And each week as their little boy grew and did all the right things and there were no signs of trouble, they were more and more encouraged.

 

The day she turned twenty-two weeks Paige was joined by Valentino in the scrub room as she was nearing the
end of her three-minute hand wash. It was their first case of the day.

‘So,' Valentino said, wetting his arms and applying the liquid surgical scrub, ‘twenty-two weeks today.'

Paige could see the smile in his eyes and knew his dimples would be dazzling beneath his mask. Still, they'd agreed not to talk about it at work. ‘Not here,' she murmured.

Valentino chuckled. ‘I'm just making conversation.'

Paige rolled her eyes at him. ‘It's a nice day is conversation. We need more rain is conversation.'

‘Ah.' Valentino shrugged, his arms soaped to his elbows. ‘Blame it on my command of the English language. Subtleties are harder to pick up on.'

Paige laughed. Valentino spoke perfect English. He certainly understood subtleties and nuance just fine. ‘Poor Valentino.'

As she ran her hands under the water for one last rinse the baby kicked her hard and high as if he objected to Paige teasing his father. She gasped, the motion of her hands freezing as her breath was momentarily stolen by the strength and suddenness of it. She leaned over a little, her hands still elevated above the sink.

Valentino frowned, his hands also ceasing their activity. ‘Paige? Are you all right?'

Paige nodded as the baby continued to tap-dance in her womb. ‘I think this baby's going to play soccer for Italy.'

Valentino grinned. ‘It kicked?'

‘Oh, yeah. I think he's awake and ready to party.'

It took Valentino all of two seconds to decide his next
course of action. He abandoned his scrub and reached for her belly, soaped arms and all.

‘Valentino!' Paige gasped as his hands made wet imprints on her blue scrubs. She looked over her shoulder. ‘They're expecting us inside.'

He ignored her. ‘Where?' he asked, shifting his hands around, waiting for the tell-tale movement beneath his palm, desperate to be part of this moment with her. He would never tire of feeling his son move. Her scrubs were an annoying barrier and he ran his hands under the hem until his soapy fingers touched bare belly.

Paige gasped again, quieter this time, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she concentrated on keeping her arms sterile and remaining upright while his asexual touch spread sticky tentacles to places lower. Much lower.

He'd felt her belly before. But never skin to skin, always through her clothes. His warm, slippery hands were completely methodical and thorough as he slid them all over her small bump, searching for movement. It was crazy. There was nothing intimate about it at all and yet her nipples hardened and rubbed painfully against the fabric of her bra.

‘Valentino…' Even to her own ears it sounded husky and aching. Not that he seemed to be listening, intent on awaiting the baby's next move.

She was about to give him the whole this-is-entirely-inappropriate spiel but then the baby kicked again, another hard jab, right where Valentino's hand was, and he laughed, looking up at her with joy in his eyes, and
she forgot about what was appropriate. He turned a few more loops for Valentino's benefit and Paige watched his downcast head, his dark hair visible beneath the semi-transparent fabric of his theatre hat.

‘This is just the best feeling in the world, isn't it?' Valentino asked, looking up at her.

Paige smiled and nodded. It was hard not to be infected by his enthusiasm. Even though she could only see his eyes, his joy and excitement were plain to see. He held on for another minute, rubbing his hands around the rise of her abdomen.

Paige, her arms having practically drip-dried by now, shifted slightly. ‘I think the show's over.'

Valentino's gaze returned to hers. Her grey eyes had gone all smoky and he became very aware that he was touching her quite intimately. Still, the ripe swell of her felt good beneath his hands. Sexy. Right. He hadn't touched her bare stomach since the night they'd conceived his son and he suddenly realised he missed touching her.

He'd spent so much time trying to distance himself from Paige as a woman that he'd forgotten how good her skin felt. He withdrew his hands as if he was back in fifth grade, being rapped over the knuckles by the nuns.

‘Sorry.'

Paige wobbled as his hands left her belly and she ground her clogged feet into the floor to stop herself from pitching forward. She tugged a deep breath into her lungs and nodded at his hands. ‘You'd better start again.' Then she flapped her arms to dispel the last drips from her elbows and headed for the theatre doors.

 

That Sunday Valentino accompanied McKenzie and Paige to the riverside markets and then they met Adele and Don for brunch at South Bank. It had been months since McKenzie had come down with a sniff or a fever and Paige, at the urging of her parents, had decided to risk an outdoors expedition.

And she was pleased she had. The weather was glorious and McKenzie had been in absolute heaven. She'd worn her external device but, unused to crowds, the background chatter combined with the cool river breeze played havoc with the sensitive external microphone and overwhelmed her quickly. Paige removed it after the first ten minutes and she was much happier.

McKenzie had come along in leaps and bounds with her language skills over the last few months and it was a joy to watch her grow and develop now sound and speech were a part of her world.

It was midday as they got up to leave, passing the lunch crowd on their way out. Paige was feeling quite weary from all the walking around and couldn't wait to collapse on her lounge and veg out for the afternoon.

McKenzie tugged on her sleeve and Paige looked down. Her daughter was pointing at the large, white modern Ferris wheel that was a smaller version of the London Eye and could be seen from all over South Bank. Paige groaned. She'd forgotten she'd promised McKenzie a ride.

‘We'll take her,' Adele said, giving her daughter's
arms a squeeze. ‘Valentino, drive her home. She looks exhausted.'

Paige felt torn. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Of course,' Don assured her.

Paige reluctantly agreed and watched her daughter skip off quite happily with her parents. Then Valentino whisked her away and had her ensconced on her lounge within twenty minutes, including a quick stop at his favourite deli.

‘Mmm, that feels good,' Paige groaned as she slipped her shoes off and lay down on the squishy leather.

Valentino smiled at the pleasure in her voice, which he could hear all the way from the kitchen. He arranged a fat slice of tiramisu on a plate and picked it up, along with two forks.

‘This is just as good,' he announced as he carried it into the lounge.

He lowered himself onto the edge of the coffee table closest to her head, immediately noticing the way her hand rested low on her belly, emphasising her bump. His baby was just there and he was surprised by the urge to link his hand through hers.

His gaze drifted higher and was drawn to the way her shirt pulled taut across her chest. Her belly wasn't the only thing that was burgeoning—her breasts seemed determined to keep pace.

He swallowed. Up until he'd laid his hands on her belly the other day he'd been doing just fine with keeping his distance. Treating Paige as the pregnant mother of his child. Affording her the right amount of
reverence and respect. But that smoky look in her eyes had stayed with him and ever since his thoughts had been less than…reverent.

‘Tiramisu for two,' he said, dragging his gaze back to her face.

Paige could smell the coffee and chocolate before he even sat down, reviving her somewhat. ‘Mmm, smells delicious.'

Valentino passed her a fork and watched as she struggled into a semi-upright position. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to stay put, that he'd feed her, but the images that rose to his mind were far from respectful and he feigned interest in the dessert as things shifted and moved interestingly.

He held the plate forward and watched as she attacked the cake with gusto, loading up her fork and stuffing it into her mouth. Her pink tongue lapped at excess cream on her lips and her sigh of bliss went straight to his groin.

‘Mrs Agostino is a goddess,' Paige groaned.

Mrs Agostino wasn't alone there. Paige had put on weight and there was a healthy glow to her fuller cheeks. Watching her eat was a divine experience.

She loaded up again and slipped the airy creation into her mouth. She looked at Valentino to share her bliss and noticed he wasn't eating. ‘You're not joining me?' she asked, around a mouthful of cake.

Valentino's gaze fell to her mouth decorated in crumbs and cream.
Dio!
Was she trying to kill him?

Paige stilled her chewing and swallowed her
mouthful as the direction of his gaze registered. Her lips tingled beneath the intensity of it. Maybe he wasn't as immune to her as a woman as she'd thought? She felt a surge of feminine hormones power into her bloodstream and arched her back a little. The corresponding rounding of his eyes made the move worth it.

‘Valentino?'

Val dragged his gaze away from her breasts. ‘Sorry. What? Oh, no, thanks. Here.' He thrust the plate at her. ‘You have it.'

Then he shifted off the table and went and sat in the single lounge chair furthest away. It was still a sin to watch her eat but at least he'd removed himself from the temptation of leaning forward and using his tongue as a serviette.

‘Mmm, that was amazing,' Paige said a minute later, scraping the last crumbs off the plate before placing it on the coffee table. She should be full but nothing seemed to fill her up these days. She had three years of sparrow appetite to make up for and her stomach was accepting the challenge with gusto.

‘Now, if only my feet didn't ache so much, everything would be perfect. Honestly…' she looked at Valentino ‘…you'd think a theatre nurse would be used to standing.'

Valentino chuckled. ‘We walked a lot.' Now she'd stopped eating he felt on a more even keel. He moved across to the end of her lounge. ‘Here,' he said, slapping his lap. ‘Pass me that moisturising cream. I'll give you a foot massage.'

Paige regarded him for a moment. He looked cool and calm and totally in control again and she wondered if she'd imagined that mad moment when he'd looked at her like she was on the menu. Maybe her hormones were also playing havoc with her eyesight?