The Sicilian's Surprise Love-Child / Claiming My Bride Of Convenience. Кейт Хьюит

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The Sicilian's Surprise Love-Child / Claiming My Bride Of Convenience - Кейт Хьюит


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that rose when he thought of her out on those fiery mountains tonight.

      As she bent and kissed her father, her mother, her brother, he found he had to stop himself from running a tense hand down his jaw and neck as he awaited the torture to come.

      Torture for them both.

      If she did not extend to him the traditional farewell it would give rise to comments. Her omission would be noted and it would be awkward indeed.

      He sat at the head of the table, and as she bent she put her hand on its surface to make as little contact with Nico as she could.

      His cheek was cool when her lips brushed it. His scent she tried to obliterate by not breathing in. But because her brother leaned forward to ladle out more pasta she had to move quickly and put out a hand on Nico’s shoulder.

      It was solid and warm.

      One cheek to go.

      Both were holding their breath.

      Their desire was like the cattails and the bulrushes, waiting to be snapped open and for a million seeds to fly out and expand.

      ‘Be safe,’ he told her, in a voice that was somewhat gruff.

      She gave the tiniest unreadable smile, and in it was a glint of danger as she straightened up.

      ‘I’m not your problem, Nico.’

      She was, Nico knew, looking for trouble tonight.

       Hell.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      Later on the night that neither can forget…

      ‘WE SHOULD HAVE got out.’

      Aurora turned and looked at Antonietta as the three friends sat on the hillside, watching the ominous glow.

      ‘We’ll make it,’ Chi-Chi said. ‘There is soon to be a storm.’

      ‘And with storms come lightning,’ Antonietta pointed out. ‘I wish I had left. I wish I had taken off to…’ She thought for a moment. ‘Paris.’

      ‘But you don’t speak French,’ Aurora said.

      ‘I’m learning it.’ Antonietta shrugged, and then was silent for another moment before continuing. ‘Pa says we shall have a proper party after the fires. I’m getting engaged.’

      Chi-Chi let out a squeal and jumped up in excitement.

      ‘To Sylvester,’ Antonietta added, and she looked to Aurora, who had to fight not to pull a face.

      For Antonietta and Sylvester were second cousins, and Aurora was sure this was a match to keep money within the family rather than for love.

      ‘Are you happy?’ Aurora asked carefully.

      Antonietta was silent for a very long time, and then she shrugged an odd response. ‘C’est la vie!’

      Aurora didn’t really know what that meant, but she could hear the weary resignation in her friend’s voice and it troubled her.

      ‘I hear your Nico is back,’ Antonietta said.

      ‘He is not my Nico,’ Aurora said.

      ‘No,’ Chi-Chi agreed, and made a scoffing noise. ‘You should forget about him,’ she said. And then she nudged her as a fire truck turned into the hillside, bringing weary firefighters for a break, some food, and maybe a kiss…

      But Antonietta caught Aurora’s arm. ‘If Nico is back, then what are you doing here?’

      ‘He doesn’t want me,’ Aurora said.

      But Antonietta, though only newly twenty-one, had an old head on her young shoulders.

      ‘Go home,’ Antonietta said. ‘Fix what you can, while you still can. I heard my father speaking to his men about the direction of the fire…’

      And hearing the solemn note in Antonietta’s voice, and watching the weary firefighters approach, Aurora no longer wanted to be out in the valley tonight.

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      This… Nico thought as he sat at the table with Aurora’s parents playing cards. This would have been my life.

      Hard work out on the vines by day, and a tired body at night.

      Except no amount of labour would be enough to tire his mind.

      Yet, on the plus side, he would be sitting with Aurora in the now vacant house across the road, rather than looking at Bruno’s hairy arms as he shuffled the cards.

      Just because Nico did not want to be married to Aurora, and just because Nico did not want to stay, it did not mean there was not desire. It did not mean he did not care.

      And he loathed the thought of her out there tonight.

      ‘I’m going to check on my father,’ Nico said.

      He found Geo deeply asleep, and as he came out Nico felt the hot winds lick his face. He looked at the glowing mountains, and the approaching fire spreading towards them, and in the distance he could see lightning strikes.

      They were sitting ducks, Nico thought as he went back into the Messina house.

      ‘Bruno, can I borrow your car and go and get Aurora? The fire is moving fast…’

      But Aurora’s work-shy brother had just taken it, Bruno said. ‘And anyway, Aurora will not thank you if you interfere with her plans for tonight. I’ve told you she is in the safest place. They’re not going to let the chief firefighter’s house burn.’

      Dio! Nico wanted to shout. Do you really think the fire will give them a choice?

      ‘If it gets much closer,’ Bruno continued, ‘Aurora knows to come home and we will head to the beach.’

      He wanted to shake Bruno and ask, Is it not better that we all die together? But then, he did not want to worry her mother.

      ‘Grab a cushion from Aurora’s room,’ Bruno said, ‘You know where it is.’

      Oh, he knew.

      The scent of Aurora lingered in the air. He looked down and saw her gold cross on the floorboards. He picked it up and held it in his palm for a moment.

      He caught sight of the book on her chest of drawers and he was intrigued, because he knew that poetry was not her thing. Even before he opened it Nico almost knew what he would see.

      The little packet of pills, half of them gone, had been left for him to see, Nico was sure.

      He replaced the book in her top drawer.

       Message received, Aurora. Loud and clear.

      And tonight it was killing him.

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      The sofa was soft.

      Nico was not.

      He heard the taxi drop some people off in the street, followed by some chatter—but not Aurora’s throaty voice.

      The taxi service stopped at midnight.

      It was ten past midnight now.

      He thumped the cushion and put it over his head to block out the sound of Bruno’s snores.

      Signora Messina must have had enough, because she shouted for her husband to be quiet and for a short while silence reigned. Except for the drone of the firebombers, filling up in the ocean and then heading back to the hills.

      Then,


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