His Pregnant Royal Bride

by Amy Ruttan

  It wasn’t long until an ambulance pulled up the long drive.

  Dante explained what was going on with Guillermo. They got Guillermo loaded into the back of the ambulance and Serena climbed in with him to ride to Arezzo.

  As the ambulance flicked on its sirens and headed away, Dante sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” Shay asked.

  “You were supposed to come here for rest.”

  “You shouldn’t apologize for Zio Guillermo having a heart attack. That’s not something you can control.”

  Dante cursed under his breath. “I should be able to control it. I like control.”

  “And you’re a trauma surgeon?” she asked quizzically. “There’s no control in that choice of profession.”

  He rolled his eyes and she just laughed at him.

  “Well, now we have the house to ourselves.” He ran his hand through his hair, because he was nervous at the prospect. At least when they were alone in Venice or at the villa on the Lido there were neighbors around. At the vineyard, they were truly alone.

  And that terrified him.

  * * *

  Shay walked through the rows of vines, carrying an ice-cold glass of sweet tea for Dante. Dante had retreated to the vineyards after the ambulance left and she hadn’t seen hide or hair of him all day. So she’d decided to make a pitcher of sweetened iced tea. Which was no easy feat.

  She’d had to scour the kitchen until she’d found a few bags of black tea in the back of a cupboard.

  She’d brewed it, strained it and poured it into a pitcher. Adding sugar until it was the right taste that reminded her of summer days when her mother would make sweetened tea for her. Then she’d taken one of the fresh lemons in the big bowl of fruit on the counter and sliced it thinly.

  It was the best refreshing drink on a hot day and she could only imagine that Dante was out there sweltering. So she’d poured him a glass and put on her wellies under her long summer dress and headed out into the vineyard. He wasn’t far from the house; he was working on the stretch Guillermo had been working on before they’d called the ambulance.

  He was crouched down with pruners in his hand, staring at the leaves. His shirt had been abandoned and the late-afternoon sun made his bronzed skin glow like that of an ancient Roman god. The usually tame dark curls were haphazard and beads of sweat ran down his face and his large, muscular biceps.

  She hadn’t realized how muscular he was, until she saw him out here, working on the vines.

  It was as if he were someone totally different, but the same.

  Her heart skipped a beat and she couldn’t help but admire him.

  He was absolutely beautiful.

  As if sensing her admiration, he glanced up. “Shay, are you okay?”

  She shook her head. “Fine, I thought you might be thirsty.”

  “Sì.” He stood and stretched and she tried not to stare at his half-naked body, because then that would remind her of that stolen night together. The way her hands felt running over his muscles as she clung to him. She handed it to him and he took a drink and then looked confused.

  “What is this?” He was frowning.

  “Iced tea, or, as we call it, sweet tea. True iced tea is—”

  “Just cold tea.” He made another face. “I don’t like it. I don’t like tea.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It was kind of you, but I can’t drink this.” He handed the glass back to Shay.

  “What’s wrong with it? Is it too sweet?” She frowned at the cup in her hand, the condensation on the glass making her palm wet.

  “I don’t like tea.”

  “Why?”

  “It reminds me of being sick.”

  She arched her brows. “Sick?”

  “Sì, my mother would always make it for me when I was sick. I don’t like tea.”

  Shay chuckled. “Is that why there was only a small amount in the cupboard?”

  He grimaced. “Medicinal use only.”

  “Well, I tried. I might not be able to cook much, but I pride myself on my sweet tea.”

  Dante grinned. “Well, if I didn’t associate tea with sickness, I’m sure I would enjoy it.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  He picked up a towel and wiped off his hands quickly. “Are you hungry, cara? Would you like some dinner? We can go into the village.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Let me just have a quick shower and we can head into the village.”

  They walked back in silence to the house. Dante had a quick shower and changed into jeans and a white crisp shirt that was unbuttoned at his neck and rolled up on those strong forearms. His curls were tamed once again, but he didn’t shave his five-o’clock shadow off. And the bit of stubble suited him. Shay kicked off the cumbersome wellies and put on her sandals.

  It was a short drive to the small sleepy village, which was built into the side of a hill and made of cobblestone. Dante found one of the few parking spaces, and then they walked together to the piazza, which was in the heart of the village.

  A tall clock tower loomed over them and in the center of the piazza was a large fountain. The gentle breeze blew mist from the fountain onto them, but it felt good. It was a surprisingly warm day. Humid. Almost as warm as it was in New Orleans in the summer. Which was brutal for humidity.

  Shay closed her eyes and she could almost swear she was home, except for everyone around her speaking Italian.

  “This way,” Dante said, and his hand touched the small of her back as he led them to a small bistro with an outdoor patio with red checkered tablecloths, which was tucked at the corner of the piazza.

  “Ah, Principe! It’s a pleasure to see you again.” The maître d’ turned to her and grinned. “Is this the Principessa?”

  Shay plastered on a fake smile, but her stomach began to twist and turn as she thought about people knowing that she was married to him. She didn’t like being in the limelight.

  “Sì,” Dante said graciously, but she could tell that he was annoyed by the attention too. Which just endeared him to her more.

  Don’t get attached. This isn’t permanent.

  “This way,” the maître d’ said, and he led them to a corner table out on the patio, so they could enjoy the twilight al fresco style. He left them with a menu, but Dante ordered for them.

  “What did you just order?”

  He grinned and winked at her. “You’ll see.”

  “Hmm, well, I suppose I should trust your judgment. You haven’t let me down yet.”

  “Of course, I could be getting you back for that sweet-iced-tea concoction you tried to force down me earlier today.”

  “I didn’t force it down you.” She laughed with him.

  She liked laughing with him.

  It was like the way it used to be. Before she got pregnant. When they didn’t have to link their lives together. They’d had fun in Oahu.

  Too much fun, remember?

  “So tell me about your mother,” Dante said softly. “You speak of her and yet you don’t.”

  “She died as a result of Katrina. It’s why I joined the United World Wide Health Association. To help those who can’t afford health care.”

  “I’m so sorry, Shay. How did your mother die?” he asked gently.

  “The place she stayed at after the floodwaters receded was full of toxic mold, but she couldn’t afford to stay anywhere else and she had to stay somewhere while she waited for FEMA to provide housing. She got really sick from the mold, and in the end the toxins overwhelmed her body.”

  “I’m really sorry.” He reached out and placed his large hand over hers. It felt so good.

  Be careful.

  She cleared her throat. “Now, you tell me about your mothe
r. You don’t speak much about her either, but we’re staying at her childhood home, yes?”

  Dante nodded slowly. “She died a few years back. Cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry, Dante. That must have been hard to bear.”

  “Yes. She was a wonderful mother, but...” He trailed off and moved his hand off hers. “My father was difficult. She thought he was her prince and he was far from that.”

  I hear you.

  “My father left my mother,” she said. “He said he was going off to Alaska to crab fish and earn the money to bring us all up there. We never heard from him again.”

  “Did he die in an accident?” Dante asked.

  “No, I know he’s alive. I know for a fact he is. He just left us.”

  Dante snorted. “My father didn’t leave my mother, not physically at least. That’s not what marriage should be about. It shouldn’t be a lie.”

  “I know,” she said softly, but he didn’t hear her or what she was implying about their own sham marriage.

  The waiter brought their food.

  “Panzanella,” Dante announced. “I figured you wouldn’t want to eat anything too heavy in this heat.”

  “Grazie,” Shay said. The salad was filled with pieces of the traditional Tuscan bread, fettunta, and mixed with fresh crisp greens, tomatoes, cucumbers and onions. It was melded with olive oil and vinegar. There were also tuna and capers in this version.

  It was delicious and, by the kicks she was getting, the baby approved too.

  Once they were finished, Shay couldn’t have dessert. She was too full. So Dante paid and they walked across the piazza in the dwindling light.

  “I’ve enjoyed my time in Tuscany. It’s sad that we’re leaving tomorrow,” she said.

  “Sì, it’s always hard to leave here, but I’m a surgeon and I love that just as passionately too.” They stopped by the fountain to watch the water.

  “It’ll be good to get back to work,” Shay said.

  “You’ll remember to take it easy,” Dante warned.

  She was going to respond, when she heard a screech and a crash. They both spun around in time to see two cars collide at high speed, flipping one car over and over.

  When the cars finally came to a stop, Shay was running behind Dante as they rushed toward the scene.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SHAY SET UP a triage, as she’d done countless times in the field.

  Thankfully, since the paramedics had arrived, she had more access to modern equipment. And these paramedics knew English as well. Which was heaven-sent, so she didn’t have to keep getting Dante to translate for her. Though from being in Italy for almost a month now she was picking it up to the point she could be useful in emergency situations.

  They had the patients laid out. Shay tagged them by priority, using the colored sticky notes that she always carried around in her purse.

  The fire crew that was also on the scene was busy extracting one of the worst victims with the Jaws of Life. The crash scene was a jumble of twisted metal and fumes from the petrol.

  Dante was assessing his patient through the wreckage, instructing the fire crew on how to extract him. He was up on the wreckage, aiding the occupant of the car through the broken windshield. And she couldn’t help but admire him.

  He was passionate about medicine. His passion and compassion just made her want him more. If she weren’t pregnant, she would be doing the same thing. She’d done the same thing in the past.

  Dante and she were so similar.

  Only she couldn’t help Dante and the driver of that vehicle right now. Instead Shay tended to the young couple who were in the other car, while paramedics helped an elderly man who had been in a third car that was involved in the wreck.

  The young man who was being extracted had been going too fast and had lost control when he’d reached down to answer his phone. That was when he’d ploughed into the young couple.

  Shay knelt beside them. The young man had a few lacerations, but the paramedics had strapped the young woman down, because she couldn’t feel her legs.

  “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” she murmured as she took her pulse rate.

  “You’re American?” the young woman gasped. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  The young man looked at her. “We’re here on our honeymoon. Beatrice and Tim O’Toole.”

  “I’m Nurse Labadie. Shay.”

  Beatrice sighed with relief. “I’m so glad. I wasn’t sure how I could tell these paramedics that I’m...I’m pregnant.”

  Shay’s stomach knotted and she placed a protective hand on her belly. “How far along?”

  “Just eight weeks,” Tim said. “We really need to know if the baby is okay.”

  Shay didn’t want to say anything to them. The baby was so small, it could still be alive, but if there was damage to Beatrice’s spine, then the chances were slim. She didn’t want to give them false hope. The only way they would know for sure was by ultrasound.

  Tim turned back to the paramedic who was dressing his bandage and getting him to climb onto a gurney to be taken to Arezzo.

  “Tim?” Beatrice called out frantically because she couldn’t turn her head all the way to see what was happening behind her.

  “He’s just being put into the ambulance. He’s okay.”

  Beatrice let out a shaky sigh. “We were just married a week ago, but we’ve been together for a long time.”

  “How long?” Shay asked as she tended to some minor scratches.

  “Since we were sixteen. He’s my high-school sweetheart. We’ve been saving a long time for this trip.”

  Shay smiled warmly at her. “I’m sorry that this has happened.”

  “As long as we’re both alive and the baby is fine, we can survive anything.” There was a tremble on her lips as she talked about the baby and Shay couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking the same thing that Shay was: that the baby was lost. Her hand instinctively cradled her belly. As she did that Beatrice’s gaze tracked down.

  “You’re pregnant?” she said, grinning at her.

  “I am. I’m just halfway there.”

  “A boy or a girl?”

  “I don’t know. I thought it would be nice to have a surprise!”

  “Your husband must be thrilled.” Beatrice smiled and then winced.

  Yes. Husband.

  Thrilled she had right, because Dante seemed to really want this child, but Shay still wasn’t used to calling him husband because the marriage wasn’t real.

  Only she didn’t say anything as the paramedics came and got Beatrice, loading her into the ambulance. The moment that she was loaded, Tim leaned over, bandaged up and bleeding, to take her hand. The way Beatrice looked up at him and the way he looked at her made Shay realize that she had never looked at Dante like that and he’d never looked that way at her.

  Her mother had looked at her father like that, but he’d never reciprocated.

  This was what true love was.

  And they might lose their baby.

  Shay touched her belly again as the ambulance doors closed and was reminded how life was so unfair. Dante came up behind her. He touched her shoulder. She turned around and saw his shirt was stained with oil and grease, as was his face. He was sweaty and looked tired. Almost beaten down.

  “Are you okay?” he asked gently as he brushed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. It was nice, but she didn’t want the comfort. She was okay.

  “I’m fine. My patient was pregnant, but only eight weeks along. I hope the baby is okay.”

  “Me too,” Dante said gently.

  She turned to see a blanket draped over the wrecked car and a sheet over a body on a gurney and her heart sank. Then she understood the weariness in his eyes.

 
He’d lost the battle.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. You were working so hard.” And then she felt bad for rejecting his comfort.

  Dante sighed. “There was nothing more I could do. His body was too broken. Once he was extracted, the pressure on his internal bleeding released and he bled to death in seconds. I’m not even sure surgery would’ve saved him had I been able to open him up right here and now. So much damage.”

  “Mi scusi, Dottore...”

  Shay turned and saw policemen there and she knew that they wanted a statement from him.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can, then we’ll get you back to the villa so you can have a peaceful sleep before we drive back to Venice tomorrow.”

  She nodded and he went to speak to the police about the accident. Shay wandered back over to the fountain. There were still a few curious onlookers to the accident and a few people were praying.

  She sat down on the ledge of the fountain, watching Dante speak to the police officer and trying to keep her eyes off the young man whose life had been cut short due to a careless mistake, but, mistake or not, a life had been cut short. Possibly two. And if Beatrice was paralyzed, her life would be changed forever.

  A twinge of pain raced across her belly. She sucked in a deep breath as it passed, assuming it must be Braxton Hicks as she had overdone it this evening. She’d spent the last couple of days relaxing and on her last night at Dante’s vineyard she’d thrown herself into the fray of her work.

  So she was making herself stressed again. She deep-breathed through the pain.

  And soon it was gone.

  She was mad at herself for not listening to Dr. Tucci and running a small triage in the middle of a piazza.

  Because that is your true love. Work.

  And what else was she supposed to do?

  She couldn’t leave that young couple there. Broken and in a foreign country. Pregnancy or not, she’d signed up to be a nurse. To help others.

  She would continue to take it easy because that was how she could help her baby, but she had to help others too.