The Italian s Convenient Wife
Page 18
Overcome, he stopped and turned away from her. “I’m making a fool of myself, and embarrassing both of us,” he choked.
Daring to touch him, she laid a hand against his shoulder. It trembled at the contact. “Not if you’re speaking from your heart, Paolo,” she said softly. “There’s no shame in that.”
He drew in a great, shuddering breath. “I don’t need you because of the children, or because I lie alone in bed every night, aching for you. I need you because I love you, Caroline.”
The sun, shining patiently since dawn to little effect, bathed her in a flood of warm, golden light. “Love me?”
“Love you,” he reiterated shakily. “More than you can begin to know.”
“Are you sure?”
“You are my heart, my life,” he said, turning back and catching her hands. “God forgive me, I’ve known it for weeks and been too proud to admit it. But saying goodbye to you at the airport, watching you walk away, really brought it home to me. Seeing you leave…it nearly killed me, Caroline.”
“Why didn’t you say something before now, then?” she cried, mourning all the wasted days, the pain-filled hours. “I’d given up hope of ever hearing from you again.”
“There were difficulties to be ironed out, with the children, and I wanted them resolved before I came to you. We’re a package deal, I know, tesoro, but you’d been through enough. I couldn’t put you through more.” He dropped to one knee before her, and pressed her hand between both of his. “But the worst is over and I’m here now, doing the right thing for all the right reasons, and begging you to give me another chance.”
She longed to believe him. Wanted to grab the brass ring he was offering, and never let it go. But old heartache made her wary. “Does your father know you’re here, and why?”
“My father is recovering from triple bypass surgery. But yes, he knows, and if it matters any, he’s in much more mellow spirits now that his health is on the mend. He won’t give you any more grief. As for my mother, she waits anxiously to hear that I’m bringing you home again. But after all is said and done, mio amore, it’s what you want that counts.”
He gazed up at her, his expression sober, his eyes speaking volumes of uncertainty. “You already know I’m far from perfect, and always will be. As you’ve no doubt discovered for yourself, my faults are legion. But I give you my most solemn word that, if you’ll give me another chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life making our marriage something so rare and beautiful that you’ll never regret becoming my wife. One way or another, I will win your love.”
What point in pretending, when her heart was bursting to speak a truth too long held in abeyance? The time was past for playing mind games.
“Oh, Paolo,” she wept, the tears streaming down her face. “Don’t you know it’s already yours to keep, for however long we live? I’ve loved you for nine years. I couldn’t stop now, even I tried.”
His jaw dropped. “How could I have known, when you never said a word?”
“At first, I was afraid to tell you, in case I scared you off. When you proposed, you did make it clear that ours was to be a marriage of convenience, after all.”
“Caroline, after all those nights we spent together, you surely knew the terms of the contract had changed!”
“I…dared to hope. Things seemed to be different. But when you never confirmed it, I thought it was just my imagination. Not only that, but to tell you how I felt, when I knew I was keeping the secret of the children’s birth from you—well, that didn’t seem right, either. Then the truth came out anyway, but in such a way that it ripped apart the fabric of your family’s life. After that, I didn’t think you’d want to hear me say, I love you. I thought I’d left it too late, and you wouldn’t want me at any price.”
In one swift move, he was on his feet and folding her in his arms. “Not a chance,” he said huskily. “This is where you belong, next to my heart for the rest of time. Marry me, and I will never let you go again. Come home again, Caroline. Your children need you desperately, and so do I.”
“He’s telling the truth, Zia Momma,” Clemente said, apparently finding Saturday morning cartoons on television not nearly as riveting as real-life romantic drama in the kitchen.
“Yes, he is,” her daughter chipped in. “So you might as well say yes, because we got a puppy after you left, and he’s lonely without us. We need to get back to him fast, before he chews another hole in the rug.”
Disentangling herself from Paolo’s hold, Callie stepped back far enough to rest her gaze on one beloved face after another.
Her children, so beautiful, so forgiving, that she wanted to fall down on her knees and thank God for the gift of them.
Paolo, so strong and sure, he made her believe in miracles. How could she not, when three of them stood around her, close enough to touch?
She took a breath. Held open her arms and felt her heart soar as her children raced into her embrace. “I love you,” she whispered into their sweet-smelling hair. “I always have and I always will.”
“So don’t cry then,” Gina sniffled. “We decided we love you as well, so let’s just get on with it, then we can all go home. Don’t you know it’ll soon be Christmas, and we’ve been waiting for you to come back, before we put up a tree?”
She heard Paolo’s stifled laughter, felt his hand at her waist. Looked up and saw the love in his eyes, and the hope. “Well, that won’t do at all,” she said. “It takes time to put up the perfect Christmas tree. Don’t just stand there, Paolo. We’re all starving. Take us to breakfast, then take us home, my love.”
“I was hoping that would be your decision, tesoro, which is why I have the jet fueled up, breakfast already waiting on board and my pilot ready for take-off as soon as I give him the word. How long will it take you to pack?”
“No time at all,” she said, leaning into him and loving the strong steady beat of his heart beneath her hand. “Everything I need is right here in this room.”
ISBN: 1-55254-522-9
THE ITALIAN’S CONVENIENT WIFE
First North American Publication 2006.
Copyright © 2005 by Spencer Books Limited.
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