Regret Me Not

by Clare Connelly

  “When I lost Andreo, I had no choice, no say. I was blind-sided by that pain. It was a grief unlike anything I’ve ever experienced and instinctively, I’ve sought to insulate myself from that. Pushing you away kept me safe. Being angry at you kept me safe. Because if I didn’t love you, I would never have to lose you. But you – Jack – you are my life, Elodie.”

  She made a soft sound of disbelief.

  “I’m done with hiding from that. I’m done with being afraid. I walked away from you once, then I watched you walk away, and each time it has felt as though my body is being turned inside out. I don’t want to do that again.”

  Her eyes were saucer-like in her face as she stared at him.

  “I love you. Ti amo.” So simple. “And I always will.” His expression was wistful. “Whatever you say, whatever you decide, my heart is yours, and will always be yours. Take it, or leave it.”

  Silence stretched between them, and she marvelled at this moment – at the way he looked as though he was holding his breath hostage waiting for her response.

  “Please say something,” he muttered. “Tell me to go away, if that’s your wish, just say something.”

  She nodded, lifting her fingertips to her lips, her brows furrowed. “I want…”

  “Yes?” He was still frozen rock solid.

  “You said you’d never forgive. Never forget.”

  “I lied.” He was back in front of her, his finger lifting her face upwards, and this time, he dropped his head to press his forehead against hers but he kept his eyes open, linked to Elodie’s. “You gave me a son, Elodie, and he is beautiful and perfect and I love him. There is nothing to forgive. Niente.”

  She sobbed.

  “The forgiveness has to come from you. Forgive me for being such a bastard. Forgive me for being so utterly obtuse. Forgive me for ruining the best thing that has ever happened to me.” His hands cupped her cheeks, his fingers catching in her hair. “Forgive me for hurting you, in time, knowing that I will never do so again.”

  She shook her head in a state of blissful disbelief, but he must have misunderstood, because he lifted his mouth and pressed an anguished kiss to her hair. “Don’t say ‘no’, just think about it. I love you.”

  “I don’t need to think about it, Fiero.”

  Wariness held his face still.

  “I didn’t stop loving you when I left Italy.” Now, she lifted her hands, pressing them to his hips, a shiver running through her at the relief that came from touching him freely, openly. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

  His lips brushed hers as though he couldn’t help himself, but sanity was pulling at Elodie, demanding her attention.

  “I love you, but it’s not that simple.”

  “Oh?” His lips stayed pressed to hers.

  “It’s not just about us. There’s Jack to consider. He needs stability and us dating could be really bad for him. What if it doesn’t work out?”

  “I don’t want to date you, Elodie, I want to marry you.”

  She stared at him with obvious surprise.

  “As soon as we can arrange it. I want to live with you, husband and wife, and I want to make Jack a brother, a sister, then another brother and sister,” his hands curved over her stomach. “I want to wake up beside you every morning for the rest of my life, kissing you here,” he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, “and here,” the tip of her nose, “And here,” the top of her head. “Do you truly think there is any way on this earth we will not work out?”

  “I…”

  “I love you,” he said again, and now his smile was wonderfully arrogant, so that his confidence was completely contagious.

  She smiled back, her heart bursting inside of her.

  “Well, Elodie? What do you think?”

  Her smile showed how certain she was, how utterly confident in this. “I think you’re a very, very slow learner,” she said thoughtfully, “but that once you catch on, you really catch on.”

  He grinned. “Is this a yes?”

  She tilted her head, pretending to think about it but her smile told him everything he needed to know.

  He groaned as the silence stretched around them. “I warn you, Elodie, I will resort to less than honourable methods soon.”

  Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Is that a promise?”

  He sobered, his expression serious. “It is a promise to love you and care for you and make you happy in every single way for the rest of your life.”

  Her heart exploded. “Then what are you waiting for?”

  He arched a brow.

  “Take me to bed, Fiero Montebello.”

  “And then make you my wife?” He demanded, his determination so familiar to her that her smile spread from ear to ear.

  “Yep.” She lifted up and kissed him now, her pulse throbbing at the perfection of that contact. “Forever and ever.”

  “As long as we both shall live.”

  Later, much later, when the morning sun was high in the sky and their bodies were finally sated, she pushed up on one elbow, a frown on her face.

  “What is it, cara?” He stroked her side distractedly and she wriggled closer, craving closeness even then.

  “Did you say a brother and a sister and a brother and a sister?”

  He nodded, smiling.

  “Five children?”

  “At least.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “What? Too much?”

  “Erm, it might be ever so slightly excessive.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose.

  “But also, kind of perfect,” she said on a sigh. “Let’s start with one more and go from there?”

  “Deal.” He pushed forward, rolling her onto his back, bringing his body over hers.

  Her eyes flared wide. “Now?”

  His eyes shone with love and with the promise of the future they were both welcoming with open arms, and he nodded slowly. “There’s no time like the present, right?”

  Elodie Gardiner had known extreme loneliness, and she never hoped she would find herself in the middle of a family again, but with Fiero and Jack, she was complete. The promise of any other children was almost too much to hope for. Nonetheless, she did hope, because she had ample proof that dreams do come true.

  “Thank Christ,” Nico laughed down the phone line. Then, there was a muffle as he covered the receiver. Fiero heard the words and his own smile spread like wildfire. They’re getting married.

  Cheers met the pronouncement. Over his shoulder, Fiero studied Elodie, her beautiful body sound asleep, and for a moment, a rush of fear spread through him – a tremble of panic. Because he’d come so close to losing her, to ruining this, and he’d never forgive himself for that. But he would learn from it. He would make sure he spent every day showing her how much he loved her. He would resist the fear of pain in preference of the gift of happiness, because his love for Elodie demanded that of him.

  He moved into her living room, closing her bedroom door gently. “Listen, Nico, anything I’ve said about Elodie…”

  “Consider it forgotten,” Nico promised.

  Fiero shook his head. “I was angry—,”

  “You were hurt. I know what losing Andreo did to you. I was there. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to life ever since and finally you have.”

  Fiero’s chest swelled. “I love her.”

  “Lo so. And we will love her too. Any woman who can make you smile again has earned a debt of gratitude from us. When will you be home?”

  Home. Nico’s stomach felt as though it were filled with birds. He grinned. Home. With his fiancé and his son. His family. “As soon as we can be. If that suits Elodie.”

  Nico’s laugh crackled down the phone line. “You’re a changed man, Fiero.” Then, more seriously, “Just don’t take too long. Yaya is already planning the wedding.”

  Fiero laughed. “Maybe you should follow suit, Nico? Give her another reason to smile?”

  Nico’s response was predic
table and immediate. “Nah. You might be crazy enough to try the whole marriage thing but it’s as much an anathema to me now as ever.”

  Fiero’s smile was confident, because while Nico had sworn off love and commitment many years ago, Fiero was pretty confident it would just take meeting the right woman to shake him of that certainty. “I’ll let you know when we make our plans.”

  “Do. And Fiero? I’m happy for you, my friend.”

  Nine months to the day later, they welcomed Gianfelice and Nico Jr. to their fold, twin brothers for Jack, who was besotted with them from the moment of their birth. One sunny afternoon, Elodie found herself sitting in a chair beneath the shade of a poplar tree on the lawn at Gianfelice’s Villa Fortuna, her three children just across the lawn under the watchful eye of their father and uncles and beloved Yaya, and she smiled without realising it. It was so much better than a fairy tale because this happiness was real, and it was hers and she knew, without a single shred of doubt, that it would be everlasting…

  THE END

  REGRET ME NOT is the first book in a seven book series: THE MONTEBELLOS. I hope you loved the introduction to this glamorous family.

  Read on for an exclusive excerpt from Book Two, JUST THIS ONE SUMMER, which will be available in October 2019.

  You can pre-order the book for the special price of 99c until its release date.

  Happy reading, and don’t forget to leave a review if you have a moment.

  Excerpt - Just This One Summer

  AVAILABLE OCTOBER 2019 - PREORDER NOW!

  Prologue

  Six months ago, London.

  SHE DIDN’T PACK MUCH. One bag, just enough to throw over the shoulder and carry with ease. Enough to keep her going until she found her feet. Enough to help her get away – to get away quickly. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she had to leave. Immediately. Madeleine left without looking back, because looking back hurt too much.

  If she looked back long enough, she’d see Michael as he’d been when they first met. Charming, handsome, kind, everything she’d ever thought she’d wanted.

  But new memories had overwritten those quickly enough. The smell of alcohol on his breath. The way his voice went quiet and soft when he was angry; somehow, that was so much more frightening than when he yelled. The certainty his temper was always worse when he’d bet big and lost bigger. And finally, the feeling of his hand around her throat, the way breath had burned in her lungs, the way her eyes had ached, darkness encroaching until she’d remembered she had legs and had lifted one, kneeing him in the groin. It wasn’t hard but it was enough.

  She’d never fought back before. Then again, he’d never made it so imperative that she did.

  Looking over her shoulder was an impulse. She did it now, twisting her head so her blonde ponytail flicked in the breeze, making sure no one saw her get on the bus. Her heart was slamming against her ribs, her breathing was still rushed. As the bus whistled out of Putney, it occurred to Madeleine that she had no idea where she was going.

  She knew though that she would no longer be Madeleine Gray. She’d be Maddie. Someone different to this. Someone stronger. Someone who’d never be fooled again. Someone who was independent. Solitary. Safe.

  She watched from the window as the bus rounded the corner. Shops she knew so well – the Tesco express, the bank, the post office, a Wagamamas, all so familiar to her, but all relegated to the back of her mind, to the past.

  Another bus and an overground and she’d arrived at Heathrow, and by then, Maddie had a plan.

  It didn’t come to her perfectly formed. But when she closed her eyes and imagined peace and tranquillity, she saw a place with a musical name, a place she’d found herself wondering about for no reason in particular, a place she was eager now to go to. It didn’t make sense, it was as though her soul was being called on in some way, and for lack of other ideas, she was content to listen.

  Ondechiara.

  Even the name was somehow magical. She’d read it on the bottom of the picture enough times to know it by heart. “What does it mean?” She’d asked Michael, on one of the first occasions she’d gone to his flat and seen the picture.

  “Clear waves. It’s perfect.” His smile had been like sunshine. Back then, he’d smiled at her often. She’d come to fear his smile though, because she knew it was a brief burst of warmth, almost always followed by a deafening thunderstorm. “The city itself is quite ancient. Cobbled streets that wind through tiny stone buildings, all brightly coloured and washed by the sea. The roofs are terracotta and the smell of citrus is everywhere. The ocean is the most striking shade of green, but as it comes into shore, the waves become clear, like glass, so you can see every grain of sand on the ocean floor.”

  “Do you go there often?”

  “I’ve only been once.” He lifted his broad shoulders, his body strong, his frame bulky. “With one of my closest friends.”

  “Well, I think it sounds perfect. I’d love to see it.”

  “I’ll take you there one day.”

  Michael was good at making promises, but he was much better at breaking them.

  She lifted a hand to her throat unconsciously, wincing as she felt the sore flesh there, concealed beneath her turtleneck. After the last time, he’d promised he’d never touch her again. He’d promised he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant it, that he’d get help. He’d promised he’d stop gambling, drinking. That he would do anything rather than lose her.

  But two weeks later, he’d pinned her to the fridge and gripped her around the neck until she’d truly thought she might die.

  Michael had broken every promise that mattered to her.

  She paid cash for her ticket to Rome, despite the fact he didn’t have access to her bank statements. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. She needed to get away first, to think, to work out what she’d do next.

  Ondechiara wouldn’t shelter her forever, but perhaps with a little time she’d be able to see the grains of sand that made up her fractured, confusing life a little more clearly. Perhaps she’d be able to float once more…

  Chapter 1

  IF SHE HADN’T BEEN wearing that yellow hat, he’d never have seen her. But from where he stood in the middle of the floor to ceiling windows that made a wall of glass in his home on the edge of the cliff, rain buffeting the glass so that it was grey and almost impossible to see through, he was aware of a slight figure being pushed by the breeze, the rain that was coming in sideways dragging the summery dress around her slender frame.

  He didn’t think twice. Nico Montebello paced to the front door and wrenched it open, so a gale force wind blew through the architecturally designed home, rattling a painting that hung in the hallway. He strode onto the deck and took the steps two at a time, crossing the grassed cliff top until he was within reach of her.

  Her hair was silky blonde, long and fell halfway down her back. It was wet though, clinging to her like seaweed does the water in the ocean. Her tan was golden, proof of a summer spent somewhere like this, and yet he’d never seen her before. Ondechiara wasn’t a large town, he knew most people in the close-knit community. A frisson of caution danced across his spine. This was private land and there’d been a lot of press interest surrounding his family since Fiero and Elodie’s wedding. The first Montebello Bachelor bites the dust! The papers had cried, speculating on who would be next to settle down. Little did they know the curse of the Montebellos was a hard one to shake. Fiero had been lucky but Nico found it hard to believe his brothers or cousins would enjoy a similar fate, despite what the tabloids might wish.

  Si, she could definitely be a reporter, coming to snoop around. It wouldn’t be the first time, though new security measures should have made it almost impossible for a trespasser to gain access to this land.

  Which meant she must be really good at her job…

  His first reaction of concern was muted to one of suspicion. He approached her from behind. She wasn’t looking around as a reporter might. No
r was she doing anything to avoid being seen. That damned yellow hat was like a beacon against the grey sky the summer storm had dragged in over the ancient town and usually crystal clear sea that surrounded this part of Italy.

  When he was close enough to be heard, he shouted, “Basta.” She jumped half a foot off the ground as she turned to face him.

  “Oh my God!” Up close, it was impossible not to be struck by her beauty. Wide-set eyes with an almost turquoise colour, long black lashes that were clumpy and thick from the rain, a fine nose with a slight lift at its end, skin that was tanned caramel, lips that were shaped like a cupid’s bow, and cheeks that had dimples in them when she smiled, which she was doing now. “This weather is wild.”

  Another flash of lightning. She was saturated. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She had to shout to be heard above the lashing rain. “Exploring.” An impish grin. Something surged inside of him that he was eminently familiar with. Desire. Curiosity. That first flush of interest he felt when he met a woman he wanted to know better. It was ridiculous, given that she could very well be here to write an expose on his family.

  “This is private property.”

  She lifted a brow. “Really?” Her gaze drifted to the ocean, so churned up by the wind and waves that it looked dramatic and angry. “It should be illegal to privatise views like this.”

  Curiosity grew. “You’re drenched.”

  Another smile. “I know.”

  “You shouldn’t be out in this weather.”

  “I didn’t mean to be,” she turned back to face him and there it was again: desire, a rolling wave seizing his insides, making it difficult to think of anything else. “It was sunny when I set out.”