His Pregnant Royal Bride

by Amy Ruttan

  Olivia had made him so wary. He’d been so hurt when he’d found out the baby he’d been hoping for back then wasn’t his. She’d shattered all his hopes of a family. Shay promised him an inkling of something more, but he was so afraid to reach out and take it.

  She turned back toward the open doors and headed back into the bedroom.

  Dante sighed and turned back to the vines.

  It was better he kept his distance from Shay. She’d made it clear that she was only doing this for the child’s sake. She didn’t want him. It was apparent when she was horrified about the idea of staying in the same room as him tonight.

  Perhaps I should sleep in the barn?

  Only he didn’t really ever enjoying sleeping on a bed of hay. Not that there were any animals left in the dilapidated old barn besides field mice and the occasional owl. And he couldn’t sleep in the living room. Zia Serena had promised that she would be back up at the house early to cook them breakfast. She’d insisted on cooking all their meals while they were here so Dante could focus on the vines and Shay could rest.

  It was dark when Dante returned from the fields with Guillermo. He washed outside with Zio and they both wandered inside, where Dante could smell something he hadn’t had the pleasure of tasting in a long time.

  “Braciole!” he exclaimed.

  Serena grinned and nodded. “Guillermo and I will be out of your hair soon, Dante.”

  “You can stay for dinner, Zia.”

  “No, you and your bride must have alone time.”

  “What’s going on?” Shay asked.

  “I was trying to convince Zia and Zio to stay, but they refuse.”

  “Oh, but they must! She cooked this food for us.” Shay turned to Serena. “Please stay.”

  Serena patted her hand but shook her head. “We’ll take our dinner back to our home. Sit, Dante.”

  Dante took a seat next to Shay while Serena dished up the tender steak stuffed with cheese, bread crumbs and raisins that had been marinated in tomato sauce. Braciole was served for special occasions in his house and it was accompanied by pasta and bread so you could soak up the sauce.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” Serena kissed the top of Dante’s head and took a small covered pan with their dinner out of the house. Guillermo waved as he followed the food and his wife.

  Now it was just the two of them. And an uneasy tension fell between them. Last night at the bistro and then when they had been walking along the boardwalk, all he could think about was taking her in his arms and kissing her. He could remember the taste of her sweet lips, how she’d trembled in his arms when he’d made love to her.

  He had been so close to her and he wanted that closeness again.

  Only she’d made it clear she didn’t want that. She had been so upset when he’d said he’d extended her visa to longer than one year. As if he were trapping her or something.

  “What is braciole?” Shay asked. “Don’t get me wrong, it looks so good—and smells good too.”

  “It is delicious. It’s steak, pounded thin and stuffed. Then it’s cooked in tomato sauce.”

  Shay cut a piece and took a bite. “Oh, my goodness, that’s so good.”

  “See, I told you.” He took a bite and it melted on his tongue. Not as good as his grandmother’s, but almost there.

  “How were the vines?” Shay asked.

  “Healthy. There was a bit of a problem area, but I’ll get it fixed. How was your rest?”

  “Peaceful.” She sighed and then smiled. “I really had a good sleep. I can’t remember the last time I slept so well.”

  “You look beautiful tonight,” he said, and it was the truth. He only ever saw her in scrubs. She was still wearing that white dress, but now she was wearing a stylish wrap over her bare shoulders, because it was a bit cool in the evening. It was still spring.

  A pink tinge rose in her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  He wanted to say that she looked as if she belonged here in Tuscany, but he didn’t.

  “I brought a book to read tomorrow on that terrace.” Serena chuckled. “Your Zia Serena was insistent I rest. She wants to bring me my meals when you’re in the fields.”

  Dante chuckled. “Don’t try to fight her. She’ll win.”

  “I don’t have any intention of doing that.” Shay sat back. “That was an amazing supper. And I thought you were a good cook. Serena is just absolutely amazing.”

  “I’ll tell her that,” Dante said. “It will make her day.”

  She smiled. “Well, I think I’m going to head back to bed to rest. I’m not used to eating this heavy this late.”

  “Farmers have to tend the land until the last drop of light is gone.” He stretched. “I’ll clean up. Go rest like Dr. Tucci told you to.”

  “I’ll leave a light on.” There was a nervous tinge to her voice as she left the table to head upstairs.

  “Grazie,” he whispered as he watched her head up the back stairs to the bedroom above him. His pulse thundered in his ears. He glanced at the couch in his grandmother’s sitting room. It was old, but it was a heck of a lot more inviting than taking a chance with his self-control upstairs.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN SHAY WOKE up in the middle of the night, she expected Dante to be next to her. She’d actually fallen asleep in a curled position so that he’d have lots of room and they wouldn’t accidentally touch.

  She made her way down the stairs quietly and found that he was sleeping on the very short couch in the sitting room. He looked very uncomfortable and his legs were propped up over the end of the couch.

  Her foot creaked on the last stair and he craned his head to look at her. “Shay, what’re you doing awake? You’re supposed to be resting.”

  “I woke up and you weren’t there,” she said. “I thought after the big fuss you made about sharing a room in order to keep up appearances that you’d come up.”

  Dante sighed. “I thought better of it.”

  She came down the last step into the living room. She sat down on an armchair across from the couch. “You don’t look very comfortable.”

  “I’m not,” Dante groused. “I remember it being a lot more comfortable when I was younger.”

  She chuckled softly. “You were probably shorter.”

  “Sì, I was.” He laughed and then groaned as he tried to stretch his six-foot frame out.

  “I shouldn’t have made such a big deal. We’re grown-ups. Come upstairs. We can share a king-sized bed.” Her heart skipped a bit as the words slipped past her lips.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes.” And she hoped her voice didn’t quiver. She stood and held out her hand, hoping it didn’t shake. “Come on. If you spend another couple hours on this thing, you won’t be able to move in the morning.”

  He took her hand, making her skin prickle at his touch, and she led him upstairs. “Yes, and if I was limping too much, Zia Serena would insist on using her homemade liniment on my back.”

  “Is it any good?”

  “Yes, but it stings so much and smells so bad.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “I’m not sure you can,” Dante teased. “It would curl your hair.”

  Shay laughed, but she was unfortunately familiar with scents that could curl your toes. She’d been in enough situations where breathing through your mouth was a better solution.

  “Come on,” she said, changing the subject. “You can stretch out, and then you won’t get attacked by Zia Serena tomorrow.”

  They walked into the bedroom and she crawled back into bed, adjusting the pillows so she could lie on her side, which was the only comfortable way to do it.

  Dante opened up the terrace doors to let in fresh air. The moon was high in the sky and bright, ca
sting moonlight against the white bedcover. He padded over to the bed and lay down carefully on his back, with his hands folded behind his head.

  “Does the breeze bother you?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s nice. And the moon is so bright.”

  “Sì.”

  “I guess that gives credence to that old Dean Martin song.”

  He grinned at her—she could see his dark eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “Don’t sing it.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve heard you sing.”

  She gasped. “When?”

  “You sing when you’re busy and you’ve tuned the world out. I’ve heard you singing in your office and when you’re chopping fruit. You sing, but I hate to tell you that you have a terrible singing voice.”

  Shay hit him with a pillow. “That’s not nice!”

  “I am only telling the truth, cara.”

  “Oh, and you sing so much better?”

  Dante rolled over and leaned on one elbow. He began to sing in Italian. A rich, deep baritone that made goose bumps break across her skin. As if he was wooing her in song and it was working. At the end of the song he cocked his eyebrows, as if to say see, I told you so, so she hit him again with her pillow.

  “And what was that for?” he asked, snatching the pillow from her.

  “For upstaging me.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sorry.”

  “So how long have you run this vineyard?”

  “This is my first year,” he said.

  “I’m confused. I thought your grandfather died a while ago and left you this vineyard.”

  “Sì, but it was in the family trust until I reached a certain age.” He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. “Now I am of age. It is mine.”

  “Is that why your childhood home was sold?” Shay asked.

  “Sì,” he said bitterly. He was on his back again, frowning up at the ceiling.

  “Was that part of your inheritance?”

  “No, that home should belong to Enzo, but father sold it off before our mother died. He’s determined to get it back. All I was left was this vineyard and the villa on the Lido di Venezia. That is all I wanted and that makes me happy.”

  “Are you going to give up surgery for winemaking, then?”

  “No, I love being a surgeon. Even more than winemaking. Zio Guillermo is perfectly capable of running the estate while I’m gone.”

  “Just like a prince,” she teased.

  “How so?”

  “Vassals and serfs to attend to your every whim.”

  He snorted. “I’m telling you, it’s just a title. Prince means nothing in my country.”

  “It means something to some people.”

  “People who live too much in the past,” he said hotly. “You know, Zia Serena starts breakfast very early. I think we should try to get some sleep. I know that you need your rest.”

  And with that quick change in demeanor she knew that the conversation was over. There was no use trying to dig further. She’d get nowhere. He was stubborn.

  That much she’d come to learn in the short time she’d been with him.

  It could be a good quality some of the time, other times it was downright annoying. Just like this time.

  Of course, she was no better.

  She was just as stubborn too.

  That was what her mother always said, but Shay’s stubbornness had helped her survive. It had helped her endure her childhood, where she’d often had to parent herself. It’d helped her survive Katrina, natural disasters when working with the United World Wide Health Association and her mother’s death.

  She was a survivor, and if that meant being stubborn, then so be it.

  She was stubborn.

  * * *

  The scent of pancetta frying roused Dante, but it was the thumps to his hand that caused him alarm. As he pried open one eye he saw that his hand was placed on Shay’s belly and the thumping was from the resident occupant taking up space in her womb.

  It was his baby.

  His baby was kicking him. It wasn’t very strong, but he could feel it. Like a poke of a finger under a blanket against his palm.

  A smile tugged on the corners of his lips.

  He wasn’t sure how his hand ended up there or why he was spooning Shay, who was still sound asleep, but in that moment he didn’t care either.

  And he couldn’t figure out why he’d been so afraid of this moment, because it was nothing to be scared of. In fact, it made him feel more connected to it all. Perhaps that was why he was always so reluctant to reach out and touch the child growing under Shay’s heart: because he was too afraid.

  Afraid to feel that deep connection with a child who might be taken away from him.

  He snatched his hand away and rolled over.

  Shay stirred. “What time is it?”

  “It’s seven in the morning. Don’t get up,” he said, sitting up and putting his feet down on the cold tile floor.

  “Too late. I have to get up.” She got up and padded off toward the bathroom down the hall.

  He chuckled and then got ready while she was out of the room so that he was gone before she came back. If she wanted to continue to sleep, he wasn’t going to stop her. She needed her rest.

  Dr. Tucci had made that clear.

  Dante didn’t want anything bad to happen to Shay or the baby.

  After freshening up in the downstairs bathroom he headed into the kitchen, where Zia Serena was laying out a large breakfast. She didn’t even look at him when he entered the room.

  “Guillermo is waiting in the fields for you,” Serena said. “Eat and then go out and see him.”

  “Is something wrong, Zia?” Dante asked as she set the plate in front of him. Usually she was all smiles, especially when she was feeding people, but this morning the smile was gone and replaced with a frown of concern.

  “Guillermo wasn’t feeling too well this morning but still insisted on going to the fields.”

  “He should stay home,” Dante said.

  Serena threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “That’s what I told him, but he won’t listen to me. Perhaps if you talk to him.”

  Dante nodded and took a bite of his egg. “How has his angina been?”

  “He takes the medication you prescribed for him, but he doesn’t always listen to the local doctor’s orders.”

  “That smells so good,” Shay said as she came into the kitchen and took a seat.

  Serena lit up when she saw her and she made a plate up for Shay.

  “What’re you going to do today?” Dante asked Shay.

  “I don’t know. I thought about going for a walk.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?” he asked, frowning.

  “Dr. Tucci said to rest, he didn’t say anything about complete bed rest, so why can’t I go for a walk?”

  Serena nodded in agreement with Shay, though she was probably only picking up the odd word. She set the plate down in front of her and went back to the stove.

  “This looks so good,” Shay said, eagerly eyeing the scrambled egg, pancetta and mounds of fresh fruit.

  “Well, if you want to go for a walk, why don’t you come down to the fields with me? I need your second opinion on something.”

  “I don’t know much about winemaking,” Shay said. “I’ll gladly go for the walk, though.”

  Dante waited until Zia Serena had left the room and then whispered, “Guillermo has angina.”

  “Okay,” Shay said.

  “He’s been experiencing some pain and I suspect he’s not going to the doctor. He won’t let me near him, but maybe if I had a second set of eyes...”

  She nodded. “Gotcha. It’s something I would
often do for the doctors when we were in remote villages. Patients may not trust the doctor but could always trust me and they’d open up to me.”

  He grinned. “That’s what I’m hoping for. Guillermo is a stubborn man.”

  “Are you sure he’s not blood related?” There was a twinkle in her eyes and he couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he finished up his breakfast and put the dirty plate in the dishwasher.

  Shay finished up and he took the plate from her.

  They both donned a pair of wellies because the fields were a bit muddy after a fresh round of fertilization a day before they arrived.

  Guillermo wasn’t too far from the main house, which was good because from a few feet away Dante could tell that Guillermo wasn’t doing so well.

  “He’s ashen,” Shay whispered. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “I know. Serena said he was complaining of heartburn and was feeling off, but he still insisted on doing his job.”

  And Dante was fearful that Guillermo, standing right in front of them now, was having a heart attack. And the nearest hospital was Arezzo, which was forty kilometers away.

  “Buongiorno, how are you feeling this morning, Zio?”

  Guillermo waved his hand but didn’t answer. Also not a good sign.

  Shay moved closer and Guillermo beamed at her, taking her hand. She just smiled at him and walked beside him.

  “He’s sweating profusely and it’s not that hot out yet,” Shay said over her shoulder.

  “Cosa ha detto?” Guillermo asked. What did she say?

  “Zio, did you take your angina medications this morning?”

  “Sì, I did. I always take them, but this morning I’m having a lot of indigestion. My jaw hurts too.”

  Dante shot Shay a look and she nodded ever so slightly, as if in tune with his thoughts. Guillermo was having a heart attack.

  “Guillermo, we need to go to Arezzo.” Dante took his arm and Shay the other.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice panicked.

  “I want to get you looked at. I think it’s more than indigestion. The hospital in Arezzo can take care of you.”

  Guillermo didn’t try to fight, and when they got back to the main house Shay got Guillermo to sit down. Dante explained quickly to Serena what he thought was happening. And she took it in her stride, knowing that if she became overwrought it wouldn’t keep Guillermo calm.