Large glass-and-wooden doors led off a gallery and onto a wide, tiled patio, and the shine of late afternoon sun on water distracted her from her intentions to find the kitchen and instead led her outside. Topiaried orange trees and low box hedging defined a beautiful formal garden. A few yards away a large stone building squatted—an old stable by the look of it—its golden brick bathed in sunshine. Blair meandered along the pathways, intrigued by the building ahead.
As she got closer she could see inside the deep, arched windows. State-of-the-art gym equipment took possession of the carpeted floor. Here was something else she could fill her time with, she thought. She wondered if the large outdoor pool, further off to her right, was heated. Between the two, the gymnasium and the pool, at least she could keep her fitness up.
At home, being constantly on the run with the restaurant, she’d never had to worry about her fitness, but now—being virtually on holiday until the birth of the baby—she would have to keep “in shape” or she’d struggle to keep up her pace when she returned to work.
Eventually, Blair began to make her way back toward the palazzo, and with a soft exclamation of delight realized the herb garden she’d come through had led her to her original destination—the palazzo kitchen. A wide door stood open, and beyond it she identified hanging copper pots and a large black coal range.
“Hello?” she called from the door.
“Ms. Carson! It is a pleasure to see you again!”
Cristiano bustled across the terra cotta-tiled floor and clasped Blair exuberantly to his rotund figure.
“Cristiano, lovely to see you too. Please, call me Blair. I was wondering if I could help you with anything for tonight, I’ll go mad if I don’t have something to do.”
The cook made a rude noise and flapped his hands toward the long wooden table that dominated the center of the kitchen.
“Sit down, sit down. You’re not here to work. You can watch and learn instead,” he answered with a wink.
Blair did as she was told and sank into one of the cane-bottomed wooden chairs at the table. Time passed quickly as Cristiano peppered Blair with questions about what she’d been doing since she left the palazzo back in February. She found it hard to believe that it had been less than three months since she was here, even harder to believe she was back.
She smiled at Cristiano’s voluble sighs and laughter, as she told him about Carson’s latest achievement and how the restaurant had grown from seventy-percent capacity to over a hundred-percent bookings, weeks in advance. But she itched to throw on an apron and work alongside him.
An idea sprang to mind and before she could think it through further Blair found the words spouting from her mouth.
“Cristiano, if I don’t cook while I’m here I think I’ll go crazy. Besides which, when I go back home I will need to bring something new again to the restaurant. Could I take some lessons from you? I know you often conduct demonstrations when tours come through to the palazzo. Would it be too much of an imposition if you coached me privately?”
Before the chef could reply, his eyes flew to one of the internal doorways.
“Blair, you aren’t here to work.”
Blair stood rapidly at the sound of Draco’s voice. Small black spots swam before her eyes and she put a hand out to the back of her chair to steady herself a moment. When the spots receded Draco was at her side.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine, just got up a little too quickly, that’s all,” she brushed aside his concern. “And for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t think it work to have the chance to learn some new dishes from Cristiano.”
Draco shot a glare at Cristiano before the other man could speak. “We will discuss this later. For now we have other, more important matters to discuss. Can you come with me now or would you like to sit a while?”
“Draco, I’m not an invalid. I told you, I’m okay.”
Where had the man who’d been such a tender lover this afternoon disappeared to? she wondered. The Draco she saw now was more like the overpowering man who’d bought her restaurant building out from under her so he could control where she lived and where she bore his child.
He said something in rapid Italian to Cristiano, who answered in kind before turning back to his work.
“Come with me,” Draco said, offering Blair his arm.
Irritated by his high-handed attitude, she fell in step beside him, but refused to touch him. He led her to a salon that looked out over the formal garden she’d found near the gymnasium. Ripples of light from the swimming pool reflected through the deep-arched wood-and-glass doorways onto the high ornate ceiling. Blair felt as if, in many ways, she’d stepped into another world. Certainly she was out of her world.
She sat on the edge of a richly upholstered sofa and gestured to the gymnasium across the garden.
“I was thinking I could use the gym, would that be okay?”
“The gym?” He frowned a little.
“Yes, and the pool too, if it’s warm enough. If I’m not doing anything else, I’d like to at least have some regular exercise.”
“The pool is heated, but we will wait and see what the doctor has to say first. I have made an appointment for you to see a specialist tomorrow.”
“A specialist?” Blair shot to her feet. How dare he go ahead making appointments without discussing things with her first? “Whatever for? I’m fit as a horse. I’ve barely even been sick. Besides, I spent some time checking on the Internet before we left Auckland, and there’s an extremely well-appointed birthing center not far from here,” she protested.
“A birthing center?”
“Yes, run by midwives. It’s a perfectly safe and professional environment for me to have the baby.”
“Safe.” Draco’s jaw tightened, a sign she was rapidly identifying as a precursor to his controlled temper. He pushed a hand through his hair and drew in a deep breath before continuing. “And you know yourself to be in perfect health? You’re absolutely certain there is nothing you do not know about that could happen to you or the baby?”
He was almost shouting. Blair looked at him in surprise. Where the heck had that come from? Whatever, she was less than impressed. Before she could say a word, though, he reached for her hand, turning it over and stroking his thumb across the soft skin at the indentation of her palm.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. But I do insist that you see a specialist. This baby—you—deserve the very best of care. I do not want to take any risks or have any last-minute emergencies that could have been avoided.”
Blair felt the tingle under her skin at his touch, heard the depth of feeling in his words. For whatever reason, Draco was privately terrified. While she had to admit to some fears of her own, it came as a surprise to realize that he too felt vulnerable.
Draco continued to stroke Blair’s palm. Her expression left him in no doubt that she was surprised by his outburst. Perhaps he’d gone over the top just now, but she hadn’t been through what he’d been through. And he had every intention of making certain she didn’t. Whether she agreed or not.
Eleven
Her emotions played across her face—irritation followed by surprise, then something else. He didn’t have to wait long to discover what that something else was.
“Fine. I’ll agree to see your specialist, if, and only if, you agree to let me take lessons from Cristiano while I’m here. I won’t get in his way or impede his work, but I need to keep fresh and learning new dishes to take back to Carson’s when I leave.”
He forced himself to stifle the surge of anger that rose as she talked about when she would leave. She’d been here just over a day, and it was as if she had begun the count down to her return to New Zealand. Still, what would it cost him to let her dabble in the kitchen? It would keep her exactly where he wanted her, and once her pregnancy was common knowledge among all the staff, not just the maid he’d assigned to her, she would be cosseted and prevented from overdoing things.
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Draco found himself nodding in acquiescence.
“And the gym too. I want unrestricted access to the equipment. Restaurant work is more physically demanding than many people realize. I can’t afford to get soft.”
“If the specialist is in agreement, then yes, you can use the gym too. I will hire a trainer for you so we can ensure you and the baby work out safely.”
He was rewarded with a sudden smile.
“There, that didn’t hurt too much, did it?” she teased him. “Letting me have what I want?”
A pain settled in the region of his chest. Why could she not want what he wanted? Why did she persist in holding on to her ambitions for Carson’s? Certainly it was easy to agree to her terms, provided she saw the specialist for the duration of the pregnancy. Her health, and that of the baby’s, was paramount. But while a child could cope easily with one parent, two would be infinitely better. Was it selfish to want his son or daughter to know the love of a mother and father as he and Lorenzo had known love as they’d grown up? He did not think so.
Somewhere deep inside he’d hoped that in the next few months he could convince Blair to let go of Carson’s, but if she insisted on continuing to train in her field, what chance did he have?
The remainder of the week fell into a gentle pattern. Blair and Draco would have breakfast together before he’d head away for business for the day, sometimes returning at lunchtime to show her around parts of the palazzo or further afield. She’d thoroughly enjoyed their trip to San Gimignano and had marveled over the remaining towers there and the variety of shops and vendors in the narrow streets.
Blair’s mornings, with her specialist’s blessing, were spent in the gymnasium. Gabbi, the trainer Draco had hired to oversee her fitness regime, spoke excellent English, and the two women enjoyed one another’s company for the two hours they spent together each day. Her workout, if it could be called that, was neither taxing nor exhausting, and Blair felt better and stronger each day.
Her afternoons were spent with Cristiano—time she cherished, as the kitchen was probably the only place in the palazzo where she truly felt at home. She was slowly building up a new collection of recipes and techniques to show off at the restaurant, although with each day, her return to Auckland seemed further and further away.
As Draco spent most of the afternoon and into early evening in his office, or visiting the various business units on the property, Blair had taken to having a leisurely swim in the heated pool in the hour or two before their evening meal. The rhythm of her life was so different from what she was used to, and day by day she could feel herself winding down.
She and Draco had not made love again since that time in the olive grove. She wasn’t sure whether she should be bothered by that or not. She did feel a sense of loss each night, however, when after dinner he saw her to her room before continuing farther down the hall to his own suite.
One morning Blair noticed Draco appeared to be uncharacteristically distracted at breakfast.
“I may have to go away in the next few days,” he announced. “There are matters in our London office that require my urgent attention, and I cannot deal with them from here.”
“When will you know?” Blair asked, fidgeting with her linen serviette. As strange as it felt spending time with Draco this past week or so, it would feel a whole lot worse being here on her own. “We’ll have to postpone our trip to Livorno, I suppose.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I wish it could be different. I had hoped not to have to travel again during the months you are here.”
There it was, a reminder that she wouldn’t be here for long. Confusion bubbled through her mind. Why did it bother her so much? She wanted to leave. As idyllic as her time here was, as stunning as the surroundings were, she ached to be home and back at Carson’s. But she’d agreed to stay here, to have her baby here. Then, and only then, could she return home.
Her baby? When had she started thinking of it in those terms? Blair laid a hand gently on the small swell of her belly, still barely noticeable through her clothing but making its presence known in the number of jeans and shorts she was now incapable of fastening. So far, she’d managed to keep her mind pretty much off the baby, to keep any thoughts purely based on the fact that it was Draco’s child. But something had happened along the way. Suddenly it was her baby as well.
Could she do it when the time came? Leave her child? Leave the man she loved?
Blair’s eyes shot up to the man seated across the table. Loved? Oh, my God, she thought, a faint tremor rippling through her body. She did love him.
Every cell in her body was attuned to him. Her days became better, brighter, when he was with her. Life before him compared to life now, was like the difference between tinned spaghetti and the deliciously delicate flavors of porcini mushrooms and date shell mussels in the Spaghetti Allo Scoglio Cristiano had shown her the day before.
And that in itself was a perfect example of how she felt. On the outside looking in on perfection, yet not permitted inside.
She ached to see him each morning and missed him each night when they parted. Somehow, sometime in their tumultuous relationship, attraction had deepened, had turned into something more. Or perhaps, she realized, she had loved him all along but had fought tooth and nail to deny her own feelings. After all, her experience with Rhys had led to disaster, both emotional and financial, and her father’s views on life and love had long tainted her own—making her distrustful, careful not to commit to anyone fully. In hindsight, that had probably been what had driven Rhys into Alicia’s arms, Blair realized. Could she dare to hope that with Draco things could be different?
It would mean taking a chance, the biggest risk she’d ever taken in her life. Was she capable of such a thing?
“Is something wrong?” Draco asked, bringing his cup of coffee to his lips.
Blair shook her head, she barely trusted herself to speak. Since the day they’d made love, Draco had been withdrawn from her. Sure, he remained friendly, a perfect host in fact. But he’d withdrawn from her emotionally. Different from the man she’d spent time with here, and again back in Auckland. One throwaway remark, cast by her in anger and shock when he’d discovered the pregnancy, had hardened him and created a gulf between them she had to decide to bridge or forever leave as a yawning chasm. The afternoon after they’d arrived here he’d let down his guard around her, and for the space of a few hours they’d recreated the bond they had between them.
But then she’d somehow damaged that closeness and he’d withdrawn back behind the demands of his work. Granted, they were many and spanned the globe—but they’d lost something she hadn’t even known they’d shared, until it was gone. The loss—now she acknowledged it—had a left a gaping darkness deep inside her.
“I’ll see you this evening then,” he said, settling the fine china of his cup back on its saucer and rising from his seat.
“You won’t be back at lunchtime?”
“Unfortunately not. I have business in Firenze today, but I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“Florence? Could I come with you? It wouldn’t take me a moment to get ready.” She’d love the opportunity to find herself some new clothes and to poke around the culinary shops.
“Perhaps next time. I’ll be tied up in meetings all day and I have no wish for you to get lost on your own.”
“Draco, I’m a big girl. I can look after myself for the day.”
“I’d rather show you the city when we have time to really enjoy it, and I’d like to see it through your eyes when I take you there for your first time.”
Blair’s heart somersaulted in her chest when he smiled at her. She swallowed back the disappointment that flooded her as he left the room, the disappointment and the ridiculous sense of abandonment she suddenly felt. Today was no different than any other, she scolded herself. She’d get ready now for her session with Gabbi and then enjoy the rest of the day as she’d enjoyed every other so far. So what if she had to amuse he
rself for lunch before her lesson with Cristiano? As she’d said to Draco, she was a big girl now, and besides, she had an awful lot she needed to think about before she saw him again.
Blair completed another lap of the pool, relishing the smooth glide of the water along her skin. She was no further ahead in her ponderings than she’d been this morning, in fact her concentration had been so off all day that even Cristiano had begun to lose a little patience with her in the kitchen this afternoon. In the end, she’d withdrawn from his domain pleading tiredness, and had enjoyed an unaccustomed afternoon nap in the shade here by the pool. She’d woken feeling fuzzy in the head. A fuzziness that was dissipating with each stroke of her arms as she turned and swam another length.
Blair’s hands bumped against the edge of the pool and she stood ready to pull herself up and onto the edge. Suddenly she realized she wasn’t alone.
On a lounger at the poolside sat an impeccably groomed woman. Blair didn’t have to look hard to reognize a family resemblance. If she wasn’t mistaken, this was Draco’s mother. The woman rose and walked with a graceful stride toward her, offering a hand to Blair to help her out of the pool.
“Here, my dear. Let me assist you.”
“Thank you.” Blair took her hand, wishing like crazy that she’d opted today to wear her full-piece swimsuit. The bikini she’d slipped on did little to hide the thickening of her waist, and the new fullness to her breasts made her old bikini top almost indecent.
She accepted the thick, white towel the woman handed to her and wrapped it protectively around her, but the assessing look in the other woman’s eye proved she had missed nothing.
“You must be Blair,” she said, with a gentle smile. “I am Sabina Sandrelli, Draco’s mother.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone,” Blair started.
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