Once again she was struck by what a beautiful place Lorenzo had bought. Chloe knew he hadn’t intended it to be their main home—he would never leave the grand Venetian palazzo, which had been in his family for generations. But this house with its clean modern lines and light, airy feel made a very pleasant complement to the ornate, history-filled palace.
‘Good morning!’ Mr Guest appeared around the corner of the house carrying a box, which appeared to contain some kind of baby’s toy.
‘Hello.’ Chloe smiled. It was a relief that Lorenzo had employed such a friendly, down-to-earth couple to look after the house. She’d always felt slightly uncomfortable around his formal and super-efficient staff in Venice.
‘I thought the little one might like a turn in this.’ He held up the box and Chloe realised that it contained a high-backed baby’s swing seat. ‘I don’t know how old she is, but it says on the box that it’s suitable for infants six months and up.’
‘She’s five and a half months now,’ Chloe said, looking down at the baby in her arms, ‘but she holds herself well, and I’m sure she’d love to try it.’
She followed Mr Guest back round the corner, to a charming children’s play area, complete with swings, slides, a climbing frame and a covered box that Chloe assumed was a sandpit.
‘This is amazing,’ she said as she watched Mr Guest attach the swing seat to the wooden frame. ‘Did the previous people have children?’
‘I don’t think so. Mr Valente had this done when he bought the place. I know neither of you realised you’d have a little one so soon, but your husband is obviously very keen on kids. There we are,’ he added, stepping back and eyeing his work to ensure the seat was hanging level. ‘Give that a try.’
‘Thank you,’ Chloe said, as she carefully secured Emma in the seat and gave her a little push. But Mr Guest’s comment about Lorenzo had taken her aback. She’d never thought of him as being keen on children. And after she’d seen him with Emma the previous day, the opposite seemed more likely to be true.
‘She likes that!’ Mr Guest chuckled as the baby gave a squeal of delight. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. If you need anything, just give me a shout. Or call my wife—that’s the back door to the kitchen right there.’ He picked up the empty cardboard box and his tool bag, and headed off around the house.
Chloe glanced up and saw Mrs Guest through the kitchen window. She lifted her hand to wave, then turned back to Emma, who was clearly having a wonderful time in the swing.
But Chloe’s thoughts were on Lorenzo, and his attitude towards children.
As far as she could remember, she’d never actually seen him interact with any babies or older children—although that hadn’t ever seemed unusual because no one they spent time with had a young family.
But yesterday in the limousine he’d seemed truly uncomfortable around Emma, and that had made Chloe start to wonder if he only wanted children inherit his Venetian legacy. Now she realised that must be the reason why he’d married—to secure himself an heir.
She pushed her hair out of her eyes, unaware of the cloudy expression on her face.
‘Hello, Chloe.’
Lorenzo’s deep voice startled her, and she spun round to see him standing just a few feet away. He was dressed in a dark suit, as if he’d just come from a business meeting, and his clothing seemed incongruous in the garden, especially standing next to a wooden climbing frame.
‘Why did you marry me?’ she suddenly blurted. ‘If love didn’t come into it—then why did you pick me? I’m short and ordinary-looking. I have no money or connections. You could have had anyone you wanted. Why me?’
‘I already told you,’ Lorenzo said, without missing a beat. ‘Because I thought you’d make a good wife.’
‘Don’t you mean a good mother?’ Chloe accused him, tipping her head back to shake the hair out of her eyes. ‘You just married me to have children.’
‘You want children too,’ Lorenzo replied flatly but, despite his level tone, his gaze slid across to the baby in the swing seat. ‘In the circumstances, it’s fortunate that you didn’t marry someone dead set against children.’
‘You heartless beast!’ Chloe exclaimed, snatching Emma up into her arms.
‘No, I didn’t mean—’
‘Save your smooth-talking explanations,’ Chloe cried. She held Emma high against her shoulder and she bent her head over, pressing her cheek against the baby’s soft, wispy hair. ‘You say you want children and that I’ll be a good mother—but what about you? What kind of father will you be? All you’ve done is stare at Emma like she’s some kind of impostor!’
She glared up at him angrily, suddenly hating how cool and controlled he looked. For the last three months her life had been horribly out of her control—it wasn’t fair that he could stand there looking so calm.
‘You have to give me time,’ Lorenzo said. ‘I have nothing against the infant, but she has arrived rather abruptly in my life.’
‘She doesn’t have to be in your life—I keep telling you that!’ Chloe exclaimed, scraping her hair back from her face with a desperate gesture. ‘How can you be so heartless? Her mother died!’ she cried. ‘My best friend died, and all you care about is my wish to adopt her baby.’
Suddenly her eyes were swimming with tears and a second later she was weeping.
Lorenzo stepped towards her immediately. Then he wrapped his arms around her sobbing body and gently drew her close. She leant into him instinctively, clinging to him, and finding solace in the familiar strength of his embrace.
She hardly noticed when Mrs Guest lifted Emma carefully out of her arms. A corner of her mind knew that the baby was safe and she closed her eyes, shutting out everything but the solid comfort of Lorenzo’s body. Despite everything, he was her anchor—strong and warm, and exactly what she needed to combat the cold emptiness inside her.
A little while later, when the storm of tears had passed, Chloe opened her eyes and realised that she was cradled against Lorenzo’s chest. He was holding her snugly and she was still clinging to him, her hands tangled tightly in his shirt, deep inside his open jacket. They were sitting on a bench looking away from the house, across an impressive view over the meadows.
For a moment she lay completely still, amazed at how comfortable she felt in Lorenzo’s arms. But then a subtle change came over him—a slight shift in his muscles and a stiffening of his posture—and she knew that he was aware that she had roused.
She sat up slowly, suddenly feeling awkward. She had no idea how long she had wept or how long she had clung on to him. It was embarrassing to have let go of her emotions so completely in front of him.
‘Emma?’ she asked, her voice hoarse from crying.
‘Mrs Guest has her,’ Lorenzo said, realigning his jacket as she pulled away from him and sitting up straighter. ‘She’s fine. But how about you—do you need anything? Some water, maybe?’
Chloe nodded, suddenly realising she was really thirsty, and almost immediately Lorenzo passed her a small bottle of water. It was beaded with condensation and still cold from the fridge, and Chloe took it gratefully.
Presumably Mrs Guest had brought it out for her. It was wonderful to have someone look after her for a change. And it was even more wonderful to sit with Lorenzo, knowing that he’d been there to comfort her.
‘I’m sorry,’ Chloe said. ‘Sorry for causing a scene like that.’
‘You have nothing to apologise for,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Your grief is entirely natural and I don’t want you to think you have to suppress it because you are here with me. I can’t imagine how hard the last months have been for you.’
Chloe felt her heart turn over at his sympathetic words. She knew he was sincere, and it touched her deeply.
She turned sideways on the bench and looked at him. His arms around her had felt so natural, and now his clear blue gaze appeared completely open and understanding.
It suddenly seemed vital that they were honest with each other. After the mistrus
t and discord between them, she longed to find a genuine connection with him. And, as she remembered his impassioned outburst the previous evening, she realised that her actions since their marriage had left him out in the cold.
On the day of their wedding she’d been brokenhearted, and at the time she’d felt that her desperation to get away from him was justifiable. It had been devastating to be told by her new husband that he did not believe in love. But she hadn’t waited for the situation to calm down. She had not given him a chance to explain.
‘You upset me badly on our wedding day, but I’m sorry for how I behaved,’ she found herself saying. ‘For running away without telling you I was going. And for not getting in touch about Emma.’
‘That’s behind us now,’ Lorenzo said.
His tone was clipped, and with a flash of irritation Chloe knew he was never going to admit that her behaviour had had any emotional impact on him. She’d been willing to take a step towards him—but he was not prepared to meet her in the middle.
‘But we still have the future to think about,’ Chloe said. ‘You said last night that you want us to remain married. But, given everything you have said to me—that you don’t love me, that you don’t even believe in love—I don’t know how I can do that.’
She paused, and looked at him utterly seriously. He appeared calm, but she could see a vein pulsing on his temple, and she knew that she was on dangerous ground. But she had to get things straightened out. Her future—and Emma’s future—depended on it.
‘I’m not even sure if you meant it,’ she said carefully. ‘Or if you were just saying it because you were angry with me again.’
Lorenzo stared at her, a spike of annoyance stabbing into his gut and a band of tension tightening across his shoulders.
Chloe was right. The previous evening he had reacted instinctively—striking back at her presumption that she could be the one to call an end to their marriage. But since then he had taken time to reevaluate the situation.
He had originally wanted a wife to provide him with an heir, but he had no faith in marriages based on sentiment and emotion. He wanted a stable, nonmaterialistic woman, who would stand by the commitment of marriage and motherhood, and not abandon her children as soon as the going got tough. Or, even more reprehensibly, sell out if she got a better offer.
Chloe had seemed to be a good candidate—until she ran out on him on their wedding day. But now things were different. She had Emma. And she had demonstrated a tenacity—a commitment to motherhood—that had made him reconsider.
‘I meant it,’ Lorenzo said, looking straight into her cloudy green eyes so that she would know he was sincere. ‘I expect us to remain married.’
‘I can’t do that,’ Chloe said. ‘I can’t stay in a loveless marriage, and I won’t bring Emma up in an environment like that.’
‘How will you care for her?’ Lorenzo asked. ‘Yesterday you pointed out that you have no job. Your savings are gone and your credit card is at its limit.’
‘I’ll manage,’ Chloe said hotly, flashing an annoyed look in his direction. She’d known the day before that it was a mistake to let him know about her precarious financial situation—and here he was, less than twenty-four hours later, throwing it in her face.
‘How?’ Lorenzo pressed. ‘It doesn’t sound like an ideal starting point.’
‘It’s really none of your business,’ Chloe said, but suddenly she knew that he wouldn’t care about that. As far as he was concerned he had a right to know everything—and he would keep digging until he found out. ‘The rent on Liz’s cottage is paid till the end of next month, and I’ll get a job at a temping agency in a nearby town,’ she said. ‘Gladys, Liz’s neighbour, will watch Emma till I can afford proper childcare. It won’t be long until I’m up on my feet again.’
‘It hardly sounds ideal,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Wouldn’t you rather Emma grew up as part of a family, with you to look after her, and other children to play with?’
‘Other children?’ Chloe repeated, appalled by his assumption and the added barb of emotional blackmail. ‘I haven’t agreed to stay in this marriage, and already you have me producing children like a brood mare. Is that all I ever was to you? A convenient baby-making machine?’
‘A baby-making machine is not a mother,’ Lorenzo said harshly. ‘I chose you because I knew you would be an excellent mother. You care deeply about family and about commitment. You have values that are important to me, which I consider paramount in the mother of my children. And the fact that you are willing to fight so hard for your friend’s baby proves that fact.’
‘How can you talk about values, when you don’t even believe in love?’ Chloe gasped. ‘Do you expect me to give up my values? Give up on my right to be loved?’
‘Are you going to give up on your chance for a family—on Emma’s future happiness and security—to chase an illusion that doesn’t exist?’ he demanded.
‘It does exist!’ Chloe exclaimed, springing to her feet and glaring down at him.
‘Really? I’ve never seen proof,’ he said, standing up so that once again he towered over her. ‘You said you loved me—then just minutes later you ran out on me. Somehow giving up on our marriage so easily doesn’t seem like an expression of love.’
She stared up at him, suddenly realising that she didn’t have the heart to continue arguing. She’d tried to offer him an olive branch, but all he could do was throw her love for him back in her face.
‘I want a genuine commitment from you,’ he said, already pushing her into a decision she wasn’t ready to make. ‘An absolute assurance to pledge yourself to this marriage and the family we will have together.’
Chloe blinked in surprise, almost unable to believe what she was hearing. But deep down she knew Lorenzo was serious—that he was making her a genuine proposition. It fitted completely with everything he had ever said since their terrible argument at the palazzo when the truth about his feelings had come out.
There was so much to think about. In her heart she longed to remain Lorenzo’s wife—but at what cost? And at what cost to Emma and their future children? Both she and Lorenzo had grown up in broken homes and she knew first-hand how devastating that could be. But would a loveless marriage be better than that—even if the parents stayed together?
Chloe did not know the answer. And she would not give in to emotional blackmail. She couldn’t let Lorenzo strong-arm her into a decision that would affect the rest of her life.
‘I need your answer,’ he pressed, looming over her.
‘Well, you can’t have it,’ she replied, with a voice that sounded calmer than she felt. Then she turned and headed back to the house.
Lorenzo thrust his hands into his pockets and watched Chloe walking away, feeling the muscles across his shoulders pull even tighter.
He wanted Chloe to remain his wife. Just how much he wanted it shocked him.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘TAKE as much time as you need,’ Mrs Guest said as she ushered Chloe out into the garden. ‘It’s a lovely afternoon and a bit of fresh air might make you feel more like yourself. Emma will be fine with me—she’s a pleasure to look after.’
‘Thank you.’ Chloe smiled reassuringly at the housekeeper. She knew that she’d worried the older lady by getting so upset earlier in the day. ‘I really am feeling better now. I just need a little bit of time alone, and I’d like to have a look around the garden. It truly is lovely.’
‘I’ll be here if you need anything,’ Mrs Guest said.
The sunshine was warm as Chloe walked away from the house across the main lawn. She’d taken another shower, but when she came to get dressed again she just hadn’t had the energy to be creative, so she’d simply slipped her old jeans back on with a fresh T-shirt.
Her main reason for accepting Mrs Guest’s kind offer to watch Emma was that she desperately needed time alone to think. Lorenzo had given her an ultimatum: she must decide whether to stay married to him and make a true commitment to their f
uture together—or leave him, and be left all alone with Emma.
He had been right when he’d said that Chloe was not in an ideal situation to bring up a baby on her own, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it. At least she had the type of office skills that were always in demand—and as long as she could earn sufficient money to pay the rent by the end of the month, she would have somewhere to live.
Millions of women brought up children in far less favourable circumstances—with no proper training to get a job and with no one to help out in emergencies. Gladys had been a wonderful neighbour to Liz, and Chloe knew she could count on her if she had no choice.
But should she be so quick to abandon her marriage to Lorenzo?
The flash of joy that had lightened her soul when he appeared at the churchyard the previous day had told her that her feelings still ran deep. And being held in his arms earlier had felt so right.
Now that her emotions were no longer running wild, and she had taken a moment to calm down, she knew for certain that she still loved him. Love wasn’t something she could just switch on or off. It was an unfathomable, undeniable truth that filled her body and soul.
Before Liz died, Chloe had made her a promise—that she wouldn’t hide herself away from life and lock up her heart because she had been hurt. But she didn’t know how that promise fitted into the future Lorenzo was offering.
Should she turn her back on him and give up on the one thing she had truly wanted—marriage and a family with the man she loved? Or should she accept his offer of a secure and privileged life for herself and their children—and give up on her heart’s deepest wish to experience a genuine loving relationship?
It was an impossible choice.
Lorenzo stood by the glass wall of his study and watched Chloe walking along the far edge of the pond, beside a drift of purple irises. Her head was bowed and, although her blonde hair had fallen forward to obscure her face, he knew she was deep in thought. After all, he had given her a lot to think about.
She looked tiny in her jeans and T-shirt, but Lorenzo was getting used to seeing her that way, which was nothing like the way she’d dressed when they were together. When she was his PA she had always dressed smartly for work, and, although her style had been less formal once they were personally involved, she’d always looked well-groomed.
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