Mediterranean Tycoons: Tempting & Taken: The Italian's Runaway Bride / His Inherited Bride / Pregnancy of Revenge. JACQUELINE BAIRD
Читать онлайн книгу.
all right with Anna.’ At least Anna genuinely seemed to like her. She was no longer sure of any of her dinner companions…
It suddenly hit her that for the past few months she had been married to Gianfranco her lifestyle had changed dramatically; with a few exceptions she had agreed to everything he wanted, so unsure was she of her position as his wife. He, on the other hand, had made no compromise whatsoever in his lifestyle. His trips abroad, his frequent stays in Rome… In a flash of blinding clarity she saw it all, and did not like what she had become. Bit by bit, her confidence in herself as a woman had been chipped away. Without a murmur she’d accepted separate bedrooms, because he said it would be better for her. How often in the night had she awakened, alone in the huge bed, full of fear at the enormity of giving birth? She would have liked the comfort and protection of Gianfranco’s arms around her. It didn’t have to be sex…
She recalled how insatiable he had been when they were first married. He was a very virile man with a great sex drive. What had Judy said? ‘He is not the type for deep emotional commitment…don’t let him out of your sight.’ Perhaps she should have listened…
Kelly sat up straighter in the hard-backed dining chair; seated at Gianfranco’s right, she flicked a look at his chiselled profile—darkly masculine and supremely confident. He also looked tired. Perhaps he had been unfaithful. How would she know, stuck in the country? All her doubts suddenly resurfaced in her head.
‘You’re sure?’ Gianfranco said quickly, his black eyes narrowing on her pale face with an intensity that seemed to want to read her mind.
Kelly forced a smile to her stiff lips. ‘Positive.’ She placed her hand over his on the table. ‘Now, if you will excuse me.’ She squeezed his hand before letting go. ‘I’m rather tired.’ Pushing back her chair, she flinched as Gianfranco leapt immediately to his feet and took her arm, helping her up.
She needed breathing space, time to marshal her thoughts, but Gianfranco insisted on taking her to her room and helping her undress. She saw the desire flare in his dark eyes as he lifted her nightgown over her head and smoothed it down over her shoulders, his large hand lingering tenderly on her stomach.
Over the past few weeks she had deliberately suppressed the memories of what it felt like to be in his arms, wild with passion, her whole being centred on him, drowning in desire. Now, at the worst possible moment, heat flooded through her, and she trembled. She wanted to be angry with him, but she couldn’t. He would remember her birthday, Kelly told herself; even he could not be that insensitive. She was worrying over nothing.
‘I know, I know, Kelly,’ Gianfranco murmured, and took her in his arms and kissed her long and gently, his dark eyes narrowed intently on her face. ‘But it won’t be for much longer.’ A rueful smile twisted his firm lips, and, taking her hand, he pressed it hard against his aroused flesh. ‘It is a lot worse for me, I can assure you.’ He groaned. ‘But as soon as we can I am going to take you away for a long holiday.’
He wanted her and he loved her—he must do, because she couldn’t bear it if he didn’t. ‘There is no need for us both to suffer,’ she whispered, her slender fingers deftly unfastening his trousers.
‘No. No. It’s not fair. I can do nothing for you; the doctor was quite explicit.’
Kelly simply smiled, her heart racing, and very soon Gianfranco was saying, ‘Yes. Yes.’
Kelly slept soundly that night, totally reassured Gianfranco did love her, and she went on thinking it until she watched the Mercedes vanish out of sight early the next Saturday morning.
Tears filled her eyes as she made her way back upstairs to her bedroom and, curling up in a ball on the bed, she let them fall. Today was her birthday, and she had been so sure Gianfranco would remember, stay with her. In her mind it had become a crucial test of his commitment. She had been wrong…
The house was full of servants and yet she had never felt so totally and utterly alone in her whole life. She cried, great racking sobs that shook her whole body; she wept until she had no tears left. It was a nagging pain in her lower back some time later that finally forced her to sit up on the bed. Kelly rubbed her tear-swollen eyes; wallowing in self-pity was no good, for her or the baby.
At ten o’clock the same night Kelly could delay no longer. The pains had started mid-afternoon but she had rested and eaten dinner and tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. It was too soon…
Aldo drove her to the hospital in Verona, and Anna accompanied her. Kelly was grateful for her help. Anna held her hand and reassured her when the pain was almost unbearable, and at five to one in the morning Kelly gave birth to a healthy baby girl with a striking mop of ginger hair. In the euphoria of holding her baby in her arms, she could forgive for a moment the fact Gianfranco had not been with her when she needed him. And in the next hour she forgot about everything as the doctor and nurse fussed over her.
The sound of hushed voices wakened Kelly, and her eyes fluttered open. Groggily she glanced around. She was in a private room, and then immediately she remembered, her gaze flying to the side of the bed and the crib.
Gianfranco, tall, dark and incredibly handsome, was at the foot of the crib, still dressed in the formal dinner suit he had obviously worn for the charity gala. His chiselled features looked oddly severe. His mother was standing beside him, but his whole concentration was fixed on the baby.
He was here at last, Kelly thought, her heart swelling with love and pride, and was about to speak to let him know she was awake.
‘It’s ginger.’ He glanced at his mother, an expression of complete amazement on his handsome face, and then back to the baby.
Kelly heard him, and something in her rebelled. ‘She is a girl, not an it,’ she murmured, hauling herself up into a sitting position.
‘Kelly, Kelly, mia cara.’ Gianfranco dashed to her side, and his dark eyes, blazing with emotion, caught and held hers.
‘Kelly, she is beautiful; a perfect little girl. Thank you, thank you. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am I wasn’t here.’ Sitting down on the side of the bed, he cupped her face in his strong hands and scattered dozens of frantic kisses on her eyes, her brow, her nose, and finally he covered her mouth.
A slight cough broke them apart. Carmela said, ‘Congratulations, Kelly! She is perfect, and now I think I should leave you three alone to get used to being a family.’ And to Kelly’s surprise she actually bent down and kissed her cheek before departing.
‘You don’t mind she is not a boy?’ Kelly asked Gianfranco as he got up and went back to the crib, staring at his child as if he had never seen a baby before.
He turned his dark eyes gleaming with pride. ‘Of course not, cara.’ His firm lips turned back against brilliant white teeth in the most magnificent smile Kelly had ever seen. ‘The next one will probably be a boy.’ His comment gave Kelly pause for thought, but then the doctor arrived.
‘So how is the new mother now?’ Dr Credo asked jovially, standing by the bed. Taking Kelly’s wrist in his hand, he took her pulse.
‘Fine.’ She smiled up at him while the nurse deftly slipped another pillow behind her back.
‘Good. You gave us a bit of a scare earlier. Three weeks early—well, one week early really, as two weeks either side of the given date is acceptable. But I am happy to say the baby is perfect. You, on the other hand, are going to have to take care. You haemorrhaged a little after the birth, so we are going to keep you here for a week.’ Letting go of her wrist, he turned and took Gianfranco’s arm and led him to the far side of the room, talking softly.
Kelly heard the raised voice of her husband and glanced across at him. He was standing, broad shoulders taut, his hands curled into fists at his sides, his face grey beneath the tan, the strong features rigid with some intolerable emotion. His dark gaze moved back to her face, his eyes widening as though he had suddenly realised some great truth. He was a father, and the thought crossed her mind that he did not look particularly ecstatic, more shell-shocked, but she didn’t