The Italian's Innocent Bride

by Clare Connelly

  “Oh, right.” She nodded, and pushed to standing. “I do. But not until you’ve eaten something.”

  “I’m not hungry,” he retorted blithely.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” she muttered. “Just… stay there.” She regarded him with a frown. He looked truly dreadful. In her kitchen, she fossicked through her pantry for something that might tempt his appetite. She couldn’t help smiling, when she remembered the chips she’d bought earlier that day, for lunch. She hadn’t eaten them, in the end, because she’d been so shell-shocked by the discovery of her pregnancy that she’d been unable to think of anything else. She heated them in the microwave, which made them soggy and warm, then layered them in between white bread, liberally smothered in butter. As the chips landed on the spread they melted it, making the sandwiches ooze with golden goo. Just as they ought to. She added a squeeze of HP sauce for good measure, and then placed another buttery slice of bread on top. She cut them into triangles, and assembled them on a plate.

  She froze just inside the door to the lounge. Carlo was reclined on the sofa, his eyes shut, his expression tense. Was he sleeping? She walked quietly across the carpet, placing the sandwich plate onto the coffee table as she passed. She leaned over him, and just stared. Even now, so slim and pale, he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever known. Her fingertips tingled with the need to touch him. Just one little caress of his cheek, to be sure he was okay.

  But he looked exhausted, and she rationalised that he’d be better left to sleep. Or should she wake him to eat? Jane was riddled by doubt as to how best to proceed.

  Just as she made the decision to leave him sleep for a little while, his dark eyes sprung open, and lanced her blue gaze instantly. Her stomach rolled like she was dropping off the side of a cliff. He stared up at her, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. His gaze was intent on her face, and slowly, as if drawn by a magnet within her, he lifted his hand to her face. Just as she’d been longing to do to him, he cupped her cheek.

  She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his palm.

  “Have I proved myself to you enough, cara?”

  “Proved yourself?” She queried, her voice a husky whisper.

  “You told me that you would only be happy if I left you alone. Are you happy?”

  Jane didn’t meet his eyes. She couldn’t. Instead, she pulled away from his hand and stared bleakly at the wall. “I made sandwiches. You need to eat.” She walked towards the coffee table, lifted the plate in two hands and carried it over to Carlo.

  “I don’t want to eat,” he said impatiently. “I’m not fucking hungry.”

  Her heart turned over. “Eat. I’m not saying another word until you have had at least two triangles,” she threatened.

  His expression was mutinous, but he did reach out and take one of the pieces from the plate.

  She watched him eat, feeling oddly buoyed when he finished one and reached for another.

  “I had forgotten how much I love these,” he said, moments later, as he reached for a third.

  “Had you? Anna said you used to make them, after I left.”

  He nodded. “Yes, for a time.”

  Jane dropped her gaze. She didn’t want to talk about the past. It would likely get her nowhere. But so many questions had formed over the last few weeks. Things she needed to know, and wanted to understand. She opened her mouth to ask the questions, but something held her back. Uncertainty and nervousness.

  What was she hoping? That he’d be able to explain everything away? So that they could get their happy ending after all? What kind of naïve child was she? The happiest ending she could hope for was a healthy baby at the end of a trouble free pregnancy. Things with Carlo were too broken to be repaired.

  He put the plate down, and turned to face her. “Don’t suppose you have coffee?”

  Usually, she would have said something snappy about being ordered about, but she was so thrilled that he was seeming more like himself that she stood immediately. To her mutual chagrin and surprise, he followed her into the kitchen, and watched as she loaded a pod into her nespresso. “Black?”

  He looked at her with mock surprise. “Is there any other way? I know you were only an Italian for a year, but I thought we had imprinted these habits on you.”

  She couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. “Some habits more than others.”

  “Such as?”

  “Mmm, the food. Definitely the food. I miss Anna’s bruschetta and papa il pomodoro, and her Bolognese, as you know.”

  “Is that all you miss?” He mocked gently, so much more like the usual Carlo Santini that Jane was almost sorry for plying him with delicious sandwiches.

  “I think I liked it better when you were all silent and exhausted,” she said impishly, handing him a cup of black coffee.

  He grinned as he took it. “What can I say? Seeing you again has been very reviving for my spirits?”

  “Has it?” She asked nervously. She wondered if he’d still feel that way when she slammed him with the shock of an unexpected pregnancy. Again, her stomach rolled with anxiety. Was she being precipitous to tell him before she’d seen a doctor? Maybe she should have got proper medical confirmation first. Surely those tests weren’t always accurate.

  Jane’s inner-Jane rolled her eyes. Of course they were accurate. One in a million might malfunction, but four different tests from four different makers? She was pregnant.

  “Carlo,” she said breathily. Her nerve endings were stretched tight, as though she might start screaming any moment. When she was eight, she’d gone on a summer camp for foster children. It had largely been a miserable time for Jane, but she’d spent most of the time swimming, away from the other students. And there had been a huge dive board above the pool. Jane had felt awash with anxiety every time she got to the end of it, but she’d dug her fingernails into her palms and forced herself to take that last step. It was easy to balk at the stress of doing something scary. But it still had to be done. “Carlo,” she said again, her mouth dry, her tongue thick and heavy. “I’m pregnant.”

  Carlo was the epitome of surprised. His eyes round in his face, he stared down at her uncomprehendingly. His eyes dropped lower, to her still flat stomach.

  “It’s still early,” she explained hastily.

  “You’re… are you sure?” He asked, lifting a hand and running it through his hair.

  She nodded. “Well, I mean, I did four tests, but I haven’t seen a doctor yet.”

  “Why not?” He demanded, reaching for his phone and dialling.

  Jane lifted her hand and covered his, then pulled the phone away from him. “Stop.”

  “I want you to see a doctor. After what happened last time, I am not prepared to take any risks.”

  “Nor am I,” she agreed crisply. “That’s why I asked you to come here, instead of me flying to Italy. I didn’t want to do anything like get on an aeroplane until I know it’s safe to do so.”

  “We have to go to a hospital. I need to know you’re being looked after.”

  He was being so absurdly ridiculous that she laughed. “Stop,” she said again, shaking her head slowly from side to side. “You have to stop barking orders at me.”

  He visibly pulled himself together but it took him a minute. Finally, he nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”

  “Shocked?” She supplied. “Join the club.”

  He narrowed his eyes, scanning her face carefully. “I’m also absolutely delighted.”

  Jane’s eyes flew to his. “You are?” She squeaked.

  “Of course.”

  “Why?”

  He frowned. “Are you unhappy, Jane? Do you wish you were not pregnant?”

  She hadn’t thought about it in those terms, but her answer was instantaneous. “Of course not,” she responded. “I already love this baby. Or the idea of it, anyway. But our circumstances are hardly ideal to raise a child.”

  Carlo’s gaze was businesslike. “Our circumstances can change.”
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br />   Jane felt a wave of hope crash through her, but it ebbed away as quickly as it had sprung up. Their relationship was a macabre merry-go-round no baby should be made a party to. “In what way, Carlo?”

  Carlo reached out and linked his fingers through hers. “Do you know that I love you?”

  The statement blindsided her completely. She shook her head, her eyes wide, her breath caught in her throat. “Don’t do this to me, please. We’ve already gone through this. So many times.” Her heartbreak was obvious in her tone. “I can’t keep going around and around the matter of ‘us’. “

  “Then don’t keep going around and around. Stop spinning and worrying and just be. Let yourself be with me and accept that you’re happiest when we’re together.”

  “No,” she groaned miserably. “You’re wrong.”

  “You have doubted me, and I freely admit I gave you every reason to. But I have loved you, Jane Santini, from the first moment I saw you in that bar. Everything I have done since then has been to protect you.”

  Jane’s heart squeezed. “You threw me under a bus by making me spend time with Alessandra.”

  His smile was without humour. “I didn’t ‘make’ you spend time with her. I thought she might help you adjust to life in Italy. I realise the error of that decision. I had no idea she had serious feelings for me until you told me, the day you left.”

  Jane shook her head in disbelief. “How could you not know?”

  “How could I not know how miserable you were? I am apparently useless at understanding women and their emotions.”

  Jane stared at him in frustration. “Don’t play dumb. You’re one of the smartest people I know. It’s not fair to just throw your hands up in the air as if I was behaving like some childish prima donna and you couldn’t comprehend my tantrums.”

  He shook his head, and put his arms around her waist. “On the contrary, Jane. If anything, I am impressed by the remarkable grip you seem to have on your emotions. Not once did you convey your misery to me, until the very end.”

  “You were the one who stormed into our bedroom and told me you should never have married me.”

  Carlo’s expression changed. A flash of shame was obvious on his face. “I’ve explained that. I spoke without thinking and I have regretted those words every day of every year that you’ve been gone. You might have been close to leaving me anyway, but I know I gave you all the push you needed.”

  She nodded. “We just don’t work.” Her voice was heavy with desperation. “I can’t go through this again. I think it’s better if we just focus on the baby.”

  “Not possible.” When she went to push away, he kept his arms wrapped around her waist. “I will kiss you if I need to prove to you that you want me,” he warned.

  She shook her head. “There’s too much… too many secrets and lies.”

  “All to protect you and to protect our marriage.”

  Her eyes glowed with challenge. “A strong marriage shouldn’t need lies.”

  “Have you considered, for a moment, how terrified I have been of losing you? That it is literally the worst thing I have ever lived through? And I have done it twice? Do you understand, Jane, that with all my being, I want you in my life? And if you weren’t in my life, I needed to know that you were safe in yours?”

  Jane closed her eyes. Grudgingly, she said, “I can understand why you employed Liz.”

  His eyes showed the hint of victory, as he could feel her resistance flagging. “Can you understand that I exist in a state of torture when you are not with me?”

  She glared at him, her temper rising. “I don’t believe you. If you truly felt that way, you would have been a better husband. And you wouldn’t have left me for three years.”

  “You asked me to leave you alone,” he reminded her with fierce determination. “I would have done anything to get you back, except make you unhappy.” He closed his eyes briefly. “You said you would be happy if I left you alone.”

  “So you were just going to what? Forget all about me?”

  His lips twisted in a hollow imitation of a plan. “I was hoping you would realise how much you missed me. That you’d come back to me of your own accord.”

  Jane blanched. “You didn’t love me. I was humiliated.”

  “You’re wrong. I loved you so much Jane. I still love you. I have never stopped. You are my reason for living.” He moved a hand to her stomach. “You, and now this little person.”

  She groaned. “I don’t want to believe you, Carlo. I don’t want to believe you, and then have all my dreams come back to mock me when you start ignoring me for your work, or other women.”

  He made a strangled sound of annoyance and wrapped his arms tightly around her back, crushing her body to his. “I’m sorry, Jane. I thought only of protecting your body from harm, and never realised that I was hurting your spirit. I will do whatever it takes to make our marriage work second time around. Surely there’s a husband school you can send me to,” he added finally, a hint of humour in his voice.

  She laughed, and a sob thickened in her mouth too. “You are unteachable, I’m afraid.”

  “No, I’m not. For you, I would do anything. What is that expression you English have about babies and bath water?”

  She frowned. “As in, not to throw the baby out with the bath water?”

  “Right. Surely you have enough love left for me to make our marriage work. You must see that there is so much more good in what we share than there is not.”

  Tears were thick on Jane’s eyes. She blinked furiously and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know,” she whispered finally, haunted.

  Carlo had heard the expression about hearts breaking. And now he understood it. He felt like his was being cleaved in two. “Do you love me?”

  Jane shook her head, but of course she did. “Yes.”

  “Then trust me. Trust me to be what you need. Trust me enough to tell me when I’m not meeting your needs. Trust that I want only your happiness, cara.”

  She closed her eyes, and out of nowhere, saw that diving board again. Accepting that she wanted a future with him would require that same leap of faith, but she just didn’t know if she was brave enough to take it.

  Sensing that she was wavering, he lifted a finger to her lips. “Don’t answer me now. Give me a month to show you that I can do this.”

  Jane bit down on her lip. She wondered if she’d regret being so weak, where Carlo was concerned. But she knew she had no choice. She’d regret it even more if she didn’t jump into the cold, scary water.

  “I’ll give you a chance, Carlo. But if you hurt me again, so help me, you’ll be the one needing Liz’s protection.” She was only half joking, and Carlo knew it.

  He nodded gravely. “I love you.” He had her engagement ring in his pocket, but he left it there. When he slipped it on her finger, he wanted it to be because she was thrilled, and free of any doubts.

  * * *

  The benefit of having employed Liz to keep guard of Jane was that he owned the townhouse beside hers. Carlo moved into it immediately, so that he could be on hand without crowding Jane’s space. He understood that he had to re-earn her trust slowly. And he was not going to stuff it up this time.

  He spent the first week putting her at ease. Their sexual chemistry was far, far too easy to obey, but it was also the beginning of their undoing. It was a simple matter to be distracted by great sex, and ignore the more important structure of their relationship.

  So he started slowly. Walks around the area. Coffee. One afternoon, they went to see a movie, and the most he permitted himself to do was put an arm casually around her shoulders.

  The second week, when Jane was seeming like her old self around him, he took it up another notch. He began to cook for her. Simple meals that he remembered from his childhood. And he rubbed her feet after dinner each night, before returning to his own home, and his own bed, by ten o’clock at the latest.

  By week three, he began to buy small gifts for her.
Nothing lavish. He’d done that already. This time, he spoiled her with thoughtful, carefully selected presents. First, a DVD of the first movie they’d ever seen together. Then, the next day, a pair of fingerless gloves, because her circulation had become poor owing to the pregnancy, and he wanted her to be more comfortable. Finally, a guide book to Italy. “I want you to think about what you want to see. If you ever come back to Italy, I promise to take you anywhere you want, cara, to see anything you want.” That had been the closest he’d come to hinting at the future he desperately wanted.

  By the fourth week, Carlo finally felt it. Jane was his again. Without hesitation, and without doubt.

  He grinned as he moved about in her kitchen, but it was a grin tempered with his own fears. He was nervous.

  “Why won’t you tell me what’s for dinner?” Her voice came through from the lounge room.

  He shook his head as he craned it around the doorway. “Were you always this stubborn?”

  “I think so,” she said, wrinkling her nose. The sight of Carlo in her apron was now so normal that it no longer made her laugh.

  “It’s almost ready, mi bella. Just a moment more.”

  He lifted the tray from the bench and moved into the lounge. Jane smiled when she saw the chip butties stacked high. “My favourite.”

  “I know.” He placed them on the coffee table then sat down beside her.

  “How do you feel?” He was prevaricating. Nerves were shredding him to pieces.

  “Fine,” she frowned. “Not even a hint of morning sickness so far.”

  “I am pleased. I hope it means our child will continue to be kind to you.”

  “I can’t believe I have to be out of here next week,” she said, looking around at the half-packed room.

  He nodded. He didn’t want to comment, because he had yet to discuss the question of where she would move to. He was hoping she would agree to come with him, but so much was riding on the next few minutes that he couldn’t think ahead. He forced himself to remember that he was a powerful, fearless businessman with a self-made fortune in the billions. “Can I get you a sandwich.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her heart flopping in her chest. How lucky she was to have him back in her life. Giving him the chance to prove himself to her again had been the best decision she’d ever made.