Valentino's Pregnancy Bombshell (5 page)

His eyes fluttered open to discover her gaze firmly fixed on his mouth. Her black pupils had dilated in the grey pools of her eyes and his breath became constricted in his lungs.

He pushed the plate closer. ‘Try again.'

Paige shook her head as his low murmur wrapped seductive tentacles around her pelvis. As if seducing an
olive with his mouth hadn't been bad enough. ‘Are you always this bossy?' she grouched.

Valentino stared into her eyes. ‘You are beautiful but you need to eat more.'

Paige let her gaze drop to the array of olives, embarrassed by his empty compliment. She hadn't felt beautiful in for ever. ‘I'm just not hungry any more. Not since…'

Valentino heard the catch in her voice. Understood her silence. It may have been a tiny blip a long time ago which he'd buried beneath wine, women and song, but he understood loss a little. ‘Since your daughter died.'

Paige nodded slowly as her gaze drifted back to his face. ‘Alessandro?'

Valentino inclined his head. ‘He mentioned it.'

He seemed so empathetic, his dark eyes soft like velvet. But how could he possibly know? ‘I wouldn't expect you to understand.'

‘I understand some.'

He held her gaze for a moment or two and then dropped it to the plate and picked up an olive. ‘Be careful of this one, it still has its pit.' He presented it to her mouth and pushed it gently against her lips, stroking it against them. ‘Don't be deceived by its plainness. The buttery flavour is truly sensational. Creamy. Seductive.'

No one was more surprised than he when she sucked it into her mouth with no protest. She started to munch and he put his finger against her lips. ‘No. Don't. Stop. It's not popcorn. Let it sit in your mouth. Savour it. Roll it around. Tell me what you taste.'

Paige was as surprised by the request as she was by the fact that there was even an olive in her mouth in the first place or that his finger rested tantalising against her lips. She pulled back slightly. ‘It's just food.' She shrugged. ‘It tastes like food.'

Valentino sighed and shook his head. ‘Shut your eyes.'

‘What?' Did he think she was mad? ‘No.'

Valentino almost shook her from pure frustration. ‘Just shut your eyes,' he implored, bringing a hand up to gently shutter her lids.

Paige wanted to tell him to leave. To pull away. But his fingers were incredibly slick from the olive oil and wonderfully fragrant.

‘Now, tell me what you taste.'

Paige knew he wasn't going to let this go so she took a moment to tune into the olive sitting in her cheek. She pushed it onto her tongue as he had suggested and mentally homed in on the taste. ‘Salty. But smooth, like thick double cream.' She opened her eyes, surprised at herself.

Valentino smiled. ‘That's the spirit.' Not giving her a chance to change her mind, he reached for another. A black Kalamata marinated in herbs. ‘What about this one?'

Paige closed her eyes again to block out the image of him as he inched it towards her. Her nostrils flared as it slowly moved towards her. What was that herb? Rosemary? Her stomach rumbled.

Valentino pushed the olive past lips that parted slightly at the merest touch, like a flower to the first rays of the sun. A little burst of heat fizzed to life in his loins. The oil moistened her lips and the urge to follow the
path of the olive with his own mouth was an urgent thrumming in his blood.

Paige bit into the flesh, bruising it a little, and let out an almost suppressed ‘Oh' as a burst of flavour exploded against her palate. Rosemary and chives and something else. Something spicier. Her lids snapped open and Valentino was so close, so sure. Maybe the spice hadn't been in the olive at all.

‘Hmm.' She licked her lips and got another burst of flavour. ‘That is good.'

Valentino sucked in a breath. She had no idea. Oil still smeared her mouth and he wanted nothing more than to relieve her of it. Their gazes locked as memories of their night together were suddenly thick between them.

‘That's nothing,' he said, dragging his eyes away from her face that was a delightful mix of uncertainty, confusion and newly discovered pleasure. ‘You have to taste this camembert. It's incredible. So rich and creamy.'

He loaded up a piece of bread with the soft cheese. ‘Did you know,' he said as he presented it to her, ‘that you shouldn't have cheese on crackers? It should always be eaten with bread?'

Paige eyed the loaded offering coming closer and knew from the still frantic beat of her pulse she couldn't let him feed her again. She reached out and took it from him, suddenly too hungry to deny herself but not stupid enough to invite liberties that she wasn't free to give.

Valentino watched as she took a bite. ‘Remember, slowly. Let it melt against your tongue.'

He watched and waited. Waited for the cheese to hit her taste buds and for her to realise she'd been starving for too many years. When her eyelids briefly closed, he knew he had her.

‘Good, isn't it?' He smiled as he reached for one himself. ‘The aroma is intoxicating, yes?'

Paige had to agree. Intoxicating. Yes. Just like him. But, seduced as she was, she knew she was treading on very dangerous ground with him. Too dangerous. She savoured the bread and cheese and washed it down with a mouthful of wine that suddenly seemed to sing in her mouth.

Valentino smiled at her and she knew she had to put a stop to it. ‘What are you really doing here?'

Still he shied from the information he'd come here to impart. ‘I told you. I came to meet McKenzie.'

Paige raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?'

Valentino made them another cheese offering each and pushed hers towards her. ‘And to, how do you say, clear the air? Set the ground rules. We're going to be working together in the coming months, whether you like it or not.'

Paige stilled. Ben? She sat up straighter. ‘You've heard about Ben, haven't you?' Harry had spoken with her briefly on Friday night but she hadn't been able to get hold of him since.

Valentino nodded. ‘He has a significant brain injury. They don't think it's fatal but there will be considerable…deficits. They are expecting a lengthy rehabilitation period.'

Paige searched his face for the truth of it. The
horrible, horrible truth of it. That's why he'd come. ‘You could have rung.'

Valentino shook his head. ‘I think you are very close to Harry. I knew you were worried. I didn't want to tell you over the phone.'

Paige nodded absently, knowing it was kind, appreciating it on some level. Poor, poor Harry and little Ben. A deep well of sadness opened inside her and she was quiet for a moment, her thoughts troubled.

After a while she looked at Valentino and it suddenly sank in. For the short term, he was her new boss. They were going to be working together. And he wanted ground rules.

Well, good, she had a couple of her own.

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Number one ground rule. We're never going to be…' She broke off, shying from the intimacy of the word.

‘What, Paige? We're never going to be what?'

Paige glared at him. He knew exactly what. Did he think she was some shy, wilting Victorian virgin? That she couldn't say the words? Her chin rose defiantly. ‘Lovers. Again.'

Valentino smiled. He had to give her points for guts. ‘Agreed.' He tended to keep his relationships short and sweet and this one reeked of complicated so her rule suited him.

He made another cheese and bread combo and handed it to her, gratified to see her eat it without protest. ‘So let's just be friends. I'm going to be your boss. Your
daughter will be a patient of mine. It wouldn't be right to be anything other than colleagues. Friends.'

Paige stared at him. He could seriously do that? ‘We can do that? You and I?'

‘Naturalmente.'

She shot him an incredulous look. ‘Do you have many female friends?'

Valentino chuckled. Already she knew him surprisingly well. ‘Women love me,' he evaded with a knowing grin.

Of that she had no doubt. Paige laughed in spite of it all. In spite of having an impossibly sexy man right in front of her who she knew carnally and who had just admitted his track record with women didn't usually run to friendship.

She should have been running a mile.

But being friends would certainly make the time until Harry came back to take over McKenzie's care easier. And it would make working for him a lot smoother. She and Harry worked well together not just because she respected his abilities but because she liked him.

Except, of course, Harry had ever seen her naked…

But surely she could have the same kind of relationship with Valentino? If they worked at it. They were both professionals after all.

Paige offered her hand. ‘Okay. Friends.'

Valentino looked at her hand. ‘In my country we're not big on handshaking,' he teased. ‘We prefer to kiss.'

Paige rolled her eyes but kept her arm fully extended. ‘There's a shock. Just as well we're in my country, then.'

Valentino chuckled and enfolded her hand in his. ‘Friends.'

Paige nodded as a flush of heat spread up her arm and coursed through her system. Not a very good start…

 

The next morning McKenzie was happily ensconced in a bed in her own private room at St Auburn's. She was comfortable here, her home away from home, unworried as she watched television that she couldn't hear but engrossed nonetheless. Paige sat by her side, her heart splitting in two, her heart palpitating wildly every time she thought about her daughter's imminent surgery.

She'd wanted this. She'd wanted it for so long. But now it was here, it seemed too much. Too much for a little girl who'd already been through enough. She was jumpy and nauseous. Her empty stomach growled at her and she ignored it. She just hadn't been able to face the usual piece of toast she forced down every morning.

‘Buongiorno.'

Paige turned to find Valentino lounging in the doorway. He wore dark trousers and a deep green business shirt with a paisley tie. He looked relaxed and confident and was like a sudden balm to her stretched taut nerves. She shot him a strained smile.

‘McKenzie?' Paige touched her daughter's arm.

McKenzie looked away from the television and her face broke into a wide smile as she waggled her fingers at an approaching Valentino.

Valentino grinned back. ‘Are you ready?' He signed as he spoke.

McKenzie nodded and when he held out his hand to her, she high-fived him. Valentino dropped his gaze to Paige, who was currently shredding a tissue into a million pieces. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. ‘How are you?'

Paige bit down on her lip hard. She would not cry. She just wouldn't. She looked up at him. ‘Terrified.'

He could see that. He gave her a gentle smile. ‘I'm going to take very good care of her.'

Paige nodded. Too emotional to speak. Too scared to open her mouth lest she break down.

‘Here,' he said, thrusting another one of those brown paper bags at her. ‘I brought you some
biscotti
from the deli. It's to die for.'

Paige frowned and took it automatically. ‘I really couldn't eat a thing.'

‘You have to pass the time somehow. You may as well eat really good food.' He winked at her, keeping it casual, upbeat, even though he wanted to gather her close and whisper assurances in her ear until she relaxed. But he sensed she was barely keeping herself together and he didn't want her falling apart before it had even begun.

‘See you after the op,' he murmured, before swaggering out of the room.

 

Three hours. Three interminable hours later they pushed a sleeping McKenzie, her head swathed in bandages, back into her empty room, accompanied by a nurse. Paige, who had gnawed through half of the
biscotti
out of sheer nervousness, felt all the worry fall away like the
biscotti
crumbs as she stood. Relief coursed through her, strong and sweet. Her legs wobbled and she grabbed hold of the bedrail.

Paige's breath caught in her throat as she surveyed her daughter. For a moment, lying so still and pale against the white hospital sheets, McKenzie looked like her sister. Memories of Daisy swamped her, those last horrible days rising large in her mind as an awful feeling of dread rose in her chest.

Was McKenzie even breathing?

The nurse busied herself around the bed as Paige leaned over her and pressed kisses to her daughter's face so different without her blonde curly halo. She needed to touch her, needed to know, to be sure.

‘McKenzie,' she crooned.

McKenzie stirred, her eyelids fluttering open for a second. ‘Hello, baby,' Paige whispered.

She dropped her forehead onto her daughter's chest, shutting her eyes, riding the surge of release as the cold, hard grip of worry slackened its hold. McKenzie's heartbeat coursed strong and sure against her forehead and it was instantly comforting.

 

It was well after lunch before Valentino joined them. Paige knew there was only a morning list today and had expected to see him some time in the afternoon.

‘Hi,' he whispered, approaching quietly.

Paige looked up. He was wearing the same clothes as earlier
sans
tie, showing off the golden skin of his neck. She had the strangest urge to press her face to it.

‘Hi,' she whispered back, not wanting to disturb a sleeping McKenzie.

Valentino crouched down beside her. ‘It all went really well. In a few weeks we should be able to switch the device on.'

Paige nodded. His voice was a low murmur and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the gift his skilled fingers had given his daughter. She'd been sitting here for hours, trying not to think about it, trying to concentrate on the here and now. But Valentino had opened the door.