Bought with His Name & the Sicilian's Bought Bride

by Penny Jordan

  ‘I just…’ She hesitated a fraction too long, and Rico’s grip tightened around her wrist as she tried to walk away.

  ‘Just what, Catherine? Come on—you will tell me. If you are sick I will call a doctor.’

  She almost laughed—almost, but not quite. A doctor was the last thing she wanted or needed right now. A simple kit from the chemist would be more appropriate. Oh, God…A bubble of panic welled inside her as she imagined his face if she told him the truth.

  Imagined his features hardening as she confirmed what he had suspected all along—that she had set out to trap him.

  ‘I don’t need a doctor.’ Shrugging his hands away, she headed for the bathroom.

  ‘But if you are ill…’

  ‘I’m not ill, Rico. I just…’

  ‘Your period?’ It seemed strange for someone so overtly chauvinist to say the word so easily; she had expected a rather more vague attempt—but then Rico was making great strides in being a New Age guy at the moment, rolling up his sleeves each evening and bathing Lily with an enthusiasm Catherine wished she could muster.

  Turning, she gave a wan smile. ‘It’s due; that’s why I was having a lie-down, I just didn’t feel so good.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ There was an expression she couldn’t read in his eyes, a certain woodenness in his movements as he gave a small smile. ‘I should have been more considerate, I guess…’

  ‘It’s no big deal.’ Catherine’s smile was equally false. ‘I’m probably being a bit precious.’

  ‘Catherine, if there is something you need to tell me…’

  ‘There isn’t.’ Tears were brimming now and she blinked them back, but not quickly enough for Rico’s shrewd glare.

  ‘When you say it’s due, what exactly do you mean?’

  ‘That it’s due.’

  ‘When?’

  She swallowed hard, scared to tell him but too terrified to keep it in. ‘A few days ago.’ In an effort to stop her tears Catherine’s nose started to run, and a rather ungracious sniff was the only follow-up to her words. She couldn’t bear to look at him—couldn’t stand to see the knowing look in his eyes, the confirmation, if ever he’d needed it, that she had trapped him.

  ‘So you could be pregnant?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Deliberately she kept her voice light. ‘I’m a few days late, and given all that’s happened—’

  ‘You must see a doctor.’

  Catherine shook her head. ‘It’s too soon—too early…’

  ‘No!’ Still she couldn’t read his mood. His face was pale, but his gestures were decisive. Picking up the dress he had earlier discarded, he handed it to her. ‘I will telephone the surgery now and have the staff bring the car around. We need to know, Catherine.’

  He didn’t wait for her response, assuming as he always did that Catherine would oblige, and left her standing as he marched out of the room. But Rico was right, Catherine admitted as she showered and quickly dressed. They did need to know. They needed to know where they stood—needed to work things out once and for all.

  It was their first outing together since the funeral, and the mood in the car was just as lively. Time and again she opened her mouth to speak, to ask Rico about his take on this, but nerves overtook and she shrank back in her seat, staring instead at the parched gardens and trying to fathom her own feelings on the situation.

  A baby was the last thing they needed. She knew that—knew their relationship, if you could call it that, was tenuous to say the least. And yet…

  Glancing sideways, she took in his profile, her breath catching as it always did at the mere sight of him. It was so easy to remember being held by him, so easy to remember how he had adored her, the delicious place he had taken her to with his skilful lovemaking. That night was etched in her mind indelibly, but it took on more meaning now, and she dragged her eyes away from Rico, staring down at her stomach and trying to imagine a life within, her stomach swelling, ripe with Rico’s child. As mistimed as it was, as calculating as he might deem it, inexplicably it excited her.

  ‘We’re here.’

  Waiting for the driver to open the door, she could scarcely catch her breath, and her legs were like jelly as she stepped out of the car. Clutching Rico’s hand, she walked into a large house, and it was nothing like any doctor’s surgery Catherine had ever seen. But this was Rico’s world, she reminded herself. No crowded waiting rooms for him. No thumbing through ten-year-old magazines or catching a cold from your fellow patients. Instead they were whisked through to an office, where they sat in massive leather seats behind a huge mahogany desk and a doctor introduced himself—a doctor who was as assured and confident as Rico, and, Catherine noted with relief, who didn’t appear to be intimidated by him.

  ‘Rico, it is good to see you!’ Malcolm Sellers shook hands, smiling at Catherine as he did so. ‘And this must be your lovely new wife.’ He sat down. ‘I was actually about to call you, Rico. Have the police been in touch with you, Catherine?’

  Frowning, she shook her head. ‘I haven’t been home since the funeral—but why would they…?’

  ‘Why have you been calling, Malcolm?’ Rico’s question was direct, and Catherine was grateful for it.

  ‘The autopsy results are in.’ He let the news sink in for a moment before carrying on. ‘Naturally I don’t have Janey’s results, but with your permission, Catherine, I can ring and have them sent over, if you would like to go through them both together?’

  ‘That is not what we’re here for.’ Rico’s accent sounded more pronounced and, turning, Catherine saw his hands gripping the sides of the chair, his knuckles white under the strain. ‘We are here for another matter entirely.’

  ‘Even so,’ Sellers pushed, ‘it might be better for you both to go through the findings with me. There’s going to be an inquest, and knowing the results prior to that might make things just a touch easier when hearing the whole thing played out in court.’

  ‘We are not here to discuss our siblings, Malcolm. When we choose to do so will make an appointment.’

  ‘If that’s the way you want it.’ Malcolm Sellers sounded resigned, and Catherine guessed he was all too used to Rico’s stubbornness. ‘But if you do have any questions then you know I’m always here. Now—’ he forced a smile ‘—who’s the patient?’

  ‘Catherine,’ Rico answered even as she opened her mouth to do so. ‘We would like to arrange some tests.’

  ‘What sort of tests?’ Dr Sellers’s eyes were on her, but again it was Rico who answered.

  ‘A pregnancy test.’

  ‘Rico.’ Catherine smiled at Dr Sellers politely before turning to him. ‘I can speak for myself.’

  She couldn’t be certain, but she was almost sure a dusting of colour crept up Rico’s cheeks, and he snapped his mouth closed, reverting to the surly pre-adolescent manner he assumed when he didn’t get his way.

  ‘My period is late, Doctor.’

  ‘And you’re usually regular?’

  It was Catherine flushing now, the boldness of before leaving her as she attempted to discuss her monthly cycle with this difficult audience. ‘Well, I wouldn’t set my watch by it,’ she said quietly, scuffing at the floor with her foot. ‘But I am definitely a few days late. Though I know it’s probably too soon to tell.’

  ‘Not these days.’ Dr Sellers’s voice was kind. ‘Though I should warn you there can be a down side to finding out too soon.’

  ‘Such as?’ Rico asked, and Dr Sellers shot him a rather irritated look.

  ‘Rico, I’m going to need to examine Catherine. Perhaps you could wait outside?’

  Rico’s eyes darted to Catherine’s and he blinked a couple of times when she nodded.

  ‘It might be better.’

  Rico clearly wasn’t used to being asked to leave, and Catherine half expected him to protest, but surprisingly he agreed, shrugging his shoulders in a curiously nonchalant gesture before strutting outside.

  ‘Someone’s getting a bit over-excited.’ Dr
Sellers smiled as the door closed none too gently behind him.

  Catherine didn’t respond. ‘Furious’ would be a more apt description. ‘Trapped’ might be another. Dragging her mind away from Rico, she concentrated on the issue in hand.

  ‘You said there was a down side to finding out too soon. What is that?’

  ‘A very long nine months, for one thing,’ Dr Sellers said dryly, but then his expression turned more serious. ‘This is a very fragile time in a pregnancy, Catherine. Sometimes I suggest that my patients come back in a week or two if nothing has happened.’

  ‘I understand what you’re saying, Doctor,’ Catherine answered, equally serious. ‘But I don’t really need the test to tell me I’m pregnant.’

  She didn’t. From the moment their stars had collided Catherine had felt different. From the second Rico had cruelly suggested the possibility it was as if she had known the outcome—had almost envisaged the moment in her mind. ‘This is really just a formality.’

  ‘So the test is for Rico’s benefit?’

  Catherine didn’t answer. Instead she handed over her specimen bottle as Dr Sellers opened his drawer.

  ‘I can’t imagine he’d be one to settle for feminine intuition. Even as a teenager he questioned me on everything.’

  ‘Rico?’ Catherine was smiling now, enjoying the small talk, grateful not to have to listen to the ticking clock as her fate was decided. ‘I can’t imagine him as a sickly child.’

  ‘He’s never had a sick day in his life; it’s taken all my powers of persuasion just to get him to have his cholesterol checked. Disgustingly normal, of course.’ He gave a smile, glancing at his watch, then back to the tiny strip of blotting paper before him. ‘No, I’m talking about when his mother died. Rico grilled me for hours, sure there must have been something I could have done, should have foreseen.’

  ‘How did she die?’

  For a second she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but after a brief pause he gave a tight nod. ‘She had a stroke. I’m not breaking any confidences by telling you—it was all over the papers, much like now. Rico wanted answers, and unfortunately there weren’t many I could give him. No one could have foreseen it. It was especially hard for Rico. Carlos’s English wasn’t very good, and Marco was so much younger. It was Rico who had to deal with the press, the paperwork—Rico who dealt with it all, really.’

  Tears were pricking her eyes now. This was another side of Rico she had never envisaged—a young man trying to do the right thing, terrified, but having to be strong.

  ‘It’s a shame he’s not being so pedantic where his brother is concerned.’ Doctor Sellers’s voice forced Catherine’s attention, and he caught her eyes and held them. ‘I really think Rico should come and see me regarding Marco’s results. As I said, Bella’s death couldn’t have been foreseen, but…’ His voice trailed off and it was Catherine who filled in the gap, the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly standing to attention. There had been something in Dr Sellers’s voice that unnerved her.

  ‘What did the autopsy show?’

  ‘Catherine, I’m sorry. I cannot discuss this any further with you. Marco was my patient; Rico is his family…’

  She nodded her understanding. ‘Do you know anything about Janey?’

  Malcolm shook his head. ‘I can ring through to your doctor, though—explain that you’re seeing me now?’

  Catherine thought for a moment. She liked Dr Sellers, liked his directness, the way he handled Rico, but despite her curiosity she actually understood where Rico was coming from. She needed some time to prepare herself, to brace herself before she heard about Janey’s injuries.

  Today simply wasn’t the day.

  ‘Can I have some time to think about it?’

  ‘Take all the time you need.’ Dr Sellers was pushing the test strip towards her now, watching her expression with knowing eyes. ‘I’d suggest this is enough to be going on with for now. Are congratulations in order?’

  She couldn’t answer, her throat constricting, her stomach clenching as she eyed the test.

  ‘Catherine, I do read the papers. I know a little of what you’ve been through, and if this result isn’t what you were hoping for…’ He gave a small cough. ‘You are my patient, Catherine. Nothing that is said in this room goes further. You have been under a lot of stress, and as you know stress manifests itself in many ways. If you choose, then that can be what we tell Rico.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was a tiny whisper. ‘And you’re right. I’m not sure if this is the result I wanted.’ She gave a small laugh, but it changed midway and came out as a sob. ‘But deep down I knew it was the one I was going to get. I’ll be all right, Doctor. There’s no question of ending the pregnancy.’ She went to stand, but Dr Sellers gestured for her to sit.

  ‘In that case, I haven’t finished with you yet. In fact, I’ve barely even started.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  RICO was practically climbing the walls by the time she emerged, a good twenty minutes later, glassy-eyed, a touch pink around the cheeks, but relatively composed.

  ‘What the hell took so long?’

  ‘He wanted to examine me, take some blood—that type of thing.’

  ‘You went for a pregnancy test, not a roadworthy test. Bloody doctors. Why can’t they just do what you ask?’

  ‘He did do as I asked.’ She tried to summon more words, tried to carry on the conversation, but she simply couldn’t do it.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘If you snap your fingers, Rico,’ Catherine warned him, ‘I swear I’ll…’ Her eyes lifted to his, the answer blazing there for all to see, and she saw his mouth open as he registered her hesitant face. She braced herself for some scathing response, waited for his scorn, but it never came.

  ‘You’re definitely pregnant?’

  ‘I’m sorry if this isn’t the news you wanted, Rico. Sorry—’

  ‘Never, ever be sorry,’ Rico broke in. ‘Catherine, this is wonderful…’

  ‘Is it?’ She stared up at him, utterly bemused at his reaction. ‘It’s too much, Rico, too soon. You think you’re happy now, but one day you’ll throw it back at me, say that I—’

  ‘Forget the past, Catherine,’ he demanded, and how she wanted to—how she wanted to put it all behind her. But it simply wasn’t that easy. Too much had been said for instant resolution. ‘Whatever your motives, whatever the reason…’

  ‘My motives?’ An incredulous laugh shot out of her lips. ‘Two minutes into this pregnancy, Rico, and you already throw it back at me…’

  ‘What I’m trying to say…’ He was silenced as a nurse walked past, and he shook his head proudly. ‘This is not the place.’

  He took her to a restaurant, one of those tiny dark buildings people wandered past unwittingly, a hidden gem in the middle of the city, and once inside led her to an alcove, waiting till she was seated before speaking.

  ‘What I was trying to say—’ Rico resumed the conversation as if they had only just left it ‘—is that this is not a conventional marriage.’ His words were without malice, and Catherine nodded, glad they could acknowledge that truth at last, glad they were finally talking. ‘Whatever has gone on in the past, surely now is the time to put it aside, to start afresh? We are having a baby, Catherine. Something good, something positive has come from our loss—why can’t we just move forward?’

  ‘Without even glancing back at the past?’ Catherine questioned. ‘I’m not like you, Rico. I can’t just move ahead without a backward glance. You won’t discuss your past; you won’t even discuss what happened to Marco with the doctor…’

  ‘Cannot today be just about us?’ he asked. ‘I know this marriage is for Lily, but surely…’ He picked up her left hand, played with the heavy gold band for a moment before continuing. ‘Can we make a fresh start, Catherine? Start this marriage over again?’

  ‘For the baby’s sake?’

  Rico shook his head. ‘For all our sakes. Catherine, I want you to be happy. I want us al
l to be happy. With commitment on both sides surely we can make it work? We have to make it work,’ he finished, more urgently.

  ‘I know we do, Rico,’ Catherine agreed. ‘Which is why I want to go back to work.’ She watched his shoulders stiffen, but chose to ignore it. ‘I’m struggling, Rico. Struggling to find my place in a world that’s so unfamiliar. I need something more, need my friends around me now more than ever—and, yes, I admit that maybe I do somehow want to prove that I’m not totally dependent on you, but it isn’t just about that. My work is important to me,’ Catherine insisted softly.

  ‘My mother hated working.’ His admission startled her—not his words so much, but the fact he was for the first time volunteering information, and about his mother, no less. ‘No one knew that. Even my father assumed she adored it, and I guess for a while she did. She started the family business,’ Rico added proudly. ‘One of only a handful of women who made it in the property business, at least in those days. She barely spoke English when she first came here.’

  ‘She must have been very clever.’

  ‘She had an amazing eye.’ Rico shrugged. ‘I have inherited it. I see an old property and it is as if I know how it should be. I don’t have to consult books. It is as if my mind’s eye can see it in its former glory. When we first arrived in Australia my parents scraped together enough money to buy an old townhouse in Carlton. My father was a labourer and under my mother’s guidance they rebuilt it, and then they sold it. That was just the start. Soon my mother was hiring people, buying pockets of land for next to nothing. They are now worth millions. I think my first words were “bayside views”. He gave a low laugh. ‘That is a lie. I spoke only Italian till I was five.’

  Catherine found herself smiling. ‘What about Marco?’

  ‘He was born here.’ Rico shrugged. ‘He was always an Aussie. I spoke to him in English, so by the time he went to school he could speak both.’

  ‘So things were easier for him?’

  Rico shook his head. ‘I love my first language, Catherine; hell at school was a small price to pay. I can still remember being picked up from kindergarten and driving along the beach road looking for properties. They were good times.’