His Innocent's Passionate Awakening

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  He felt different.

  Something inside him had changed and he wasn’t sure he could dial it back. But he was damn well going to try.

  * * *

  Artie spent the first month back at Castello Mireille vainly waiting for the phone to ring. She longed to hear Luca’s voice, she longed to feel his touch, to be in his arms again. She was suffering terrible withdrawal symptoms, missing the stroke and glide of his body within hers, the passionate press of his lips on her mouth, her breasts and her body. She reached for him in the middle of the night, her heart sinking when she found the other side of the bed cold and empty.

  She realised with a sickening jolt that this was what her father had gone through after the accident. He had grieved both physically and emotionally for her mother. The loss of an intimate partner was felt on so many levels, little stabs and arrows every time you were reminded of the person, every time a memory was triggered by sight, sound, taste, touch or hearing.

  Losing Luca was like a death. He was gone from her life and she couldn’t get him back, not unless she compromised herself in the process. And hadn’t she compromised herself enough for the last decade? Denying herself any sort of life, any sort of enjoyment and happiness out of guilt?

  She was no longer the girl in a psychological coma. She was awake to her potential, awake to what she wanted and no longer afraid to aim for it, even if it meant suffering heartbreak along the way. Luca was everything she wanted in a husband, but if he didn’t love her, then how could she ever be happy settling for anything less than his whole heart?

  Artie was working in the morning room on a christening gown for one of the villager’s baby, waiting for Rosa to bring in morning tea. There was a certain sadness in working on babies’ clothes when it was highly likely she would never have a baby now. How could she without Luca, the only man she wanted to have children with? The only man she could ever love? She placed another neat stitch in the christening gown, wondering what he was doing now. Working, no doubt. Visiting his grandfather. Taking a new lover to replace her... Her insides revolted at the thought of him making love to someone else. Artie forced herself to concentrate on her embroidery rather than torturing herself. The weeks since coming home, she had decided to pour her energy into her craft and had even set up a social media page and website. To take it from a hobby to a business. She had orders coming in so quickly she could barely keep up. But it gave her the distraction she needed to take her mind off Luca and their broken marriage.

  Rosa came in carrying a tray with their refreshments. She set it on the table in front of Artie and then sat down beside her, taking a cup of tea for herself off the tray. ‘I’m thinking about taking a little holiday. I know my timing isn’t good, given the situation with you and Luca, but I thought it was time I saw a bit of the world outside these walls now you’re a little more independent.’

  Artie put the christening gown to one side, wrapping it in the white muslin cloth she used to protect it. ‘Oh, Rosa, I feel bad you’ve been stuck here with me for so long. But you don’t have to worry about me now. I’ve been to the village several times this week on my own and even had coffee at the café a couple of times. I can’t say it’s easy, but I do it and feel better for it.’

  ‘I’m so glad you’re able to do more.’ Rosa sighed and continued, ‘While you were staying with Luca, I realised I might have been holding you back. Don’t get me wrong—I wanted to help you, but I think my reasons were not as altruistic as you think.’

  Artie frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  Rosa looked a little shamefaced. ‘When I got my heart broken all those years ago, I locked myself away here working for your family. It was my way of avoiding being hurt again. But I worry that I might have inadvertently held you back by allowing you to become dependent on me.’

  ‘You haven’t done any such thing,’ Artie said. ‘I held myself back and now I’m moving forward. But I can’t thank you enough for being there when I needed you.’

  Rosa’s expression was tender with concern. ‘Have you heard from Luca?’

  Artie sighed and shook her head. ‘No. Nothing.’

  ‘Have you called or texted him?’

  Artie leaned forward to reach for a teacup. ‘What would be the point? I told him how I feel and he didn’t feel the same, so end of story. I have to move on with my life. Without him.’

  Rosa toyed with the hem of her flowered dress in an abstracted manner. ‘What will you do if or when he sells the castello?’

  ‘I’ll find somewhere else to live. I can’t live in a place this big. It’s not practical.’ Artie’s shoulders went down on a sigh. ‘I’ll always have wonderful memories of being here with Mama and Papa before the accident but it’s well and truly time to move on. Someone else can live here and make their own memories.’

  Rosa straightened the folds of her dress over her knees. ‘The holiday I was telling you about...? I’m going with a...a friend.’

  Artie’s interest was piqued by the housekeeper’s sheepish tone. She put the teacup back down on the table in front of her. ‘Who is the friend?’

  Twin spots of colour appeared in Rosa’s cheeks. ‘Remember I told you about the love of my life who got away? Well, Sergio and I met up while you were staying with Luca. We’ve been seeing each other now and again since. He’s asked me to go away with him for a short holiday. I won’t go if you need me here, though.’

  Artie leaned over to give Rosa a hug. ‘I’m so happy for you.’ She leaned back to look at her. ‘I will always need you, Rosa, but as a friend, not as a babysitter.’

  Rosa grimaced. ‘You don’t think I’m too old to be galivanting off with a man?’

  Artie smiled. ‘Not if you love him and he loves you.’

  If only I should be so lucky.

  * * *

  Luca put off telling his grandfather about Artie leaving him for as long as he could because he didn’t want to say the words out loud. She left me. But when Nonno was released from hospital and transferred into a cancer therapy unit, Luca had to explain why Artie wasn’t with him. She left me. Those three words were like bullet wounds in his chest, raw, seeping, deep.

  Nonno’s distress at hearing Luca’s news about his marriage was almost as bad as his own. ‘But why? She’s perfect for you, Luca. Why haven’t you gone after her and brought her back?’

  ‘Nonno, gone are the days when a man can carry a woman back to his cave,’ Luca said. ‘I can’t force her to stay with me. She made the choice to leave.’

  Nonno scowled. ‘If you loved Artie like I loved your grandmother, nothing would stop you from doing everything in your power to get her back. A man in love is a force to be reckoned with.’

  The silence was telling.

  Luca loosened the collar of his shirt and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. ‘Enough about my dramas. Is there anything I can get you?’

  Nonno shook his head and closed his eyes. ‘No. I just need to sleep.’

  Luca stood from the bedside and laid a gentle hand on his grandfather’s weathered arm. ‘I’ll be in again tomorrow.’

  He was on his way out of the hospital when his phone rang with his mother’s ring tone and his chest seized with the all too familiar dread. But instead of letting his phone go to message service as he often did, this time he answered it. ‘Mama.’

  ‘Luca, how is Nonno? I tried calling him but he must have his phone off. His carer rang to tell me he had a fall a week or two ago. She also told me you’re married. Is that true? Why didn’t you invite me to your wedding?’

  Guilt gnawed at his conscience. ‘Nonno’s doing okay. As to my marriage—it’s a long story and I hate to tell you it hasn’t got a happy ending.’

  ‘Oh, Luca.’ His mother’s sigh only intensified the pain riddling his chest. ‘What’s happened to us that you didn’t want me to be there on your special day?’


  Luca cleared his suddenly blocked throat and stepped out of the way of visitors coming through the hospital entrance. He pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching his eyes closed briefly. ‘It’s not you. It’s me. It’s always been me that’s the problem.’

  ‘You’re too hard on yourself,’ his mother said. ‘You’re so like your father it’s uncanny.’ She sighed again and went on, ‘It’s why I found it increasingly difficult to be around you as you grew into a man. I couldn’t look at you without seeing him. It reminded me of my role in what happened.’

  Luca frowned, his hand going back to his side. ‘Your role? What are you talking about? I was the one who entered the surf that day. You weren’t even at the beach.’

  ‘No.’ Her voice was ragged. ‘I wasn’t there. I went shopping instead of spending the day with my family as your father wanted. Do you know how much I regret that now? It’s tortured me for years. What if I had gone along? I could’ve called for help instead of you trying to do it on your own. I can’t bear to think of you running along that deserted beach, half drowned yourself, trying to find someone to help.’ She began to sob. ‘Whenever I’ve looked at you since, I’ve seen that traumatised, terrified young boy and felt how I let you and your papa and Angelo down.’

  Luca blinked away stinging moisture from his eyes. He swallowed deeply against the boulder-sized lump in his throat. ‘Mama, please don’t cry. Please don’t blame yourself. I’m sorry I haven’t called you. I’m sorry I’ve let you suffer like this without being there for you. It was selfish of me.’

  ‘You haven’t got a selfish bone in your body,’ his mother said. ‘Your father was the same. Too generous for words, always hard-working, trying to make the world a better place. But tell me, what’s going on with your marriage? It breaks my heart to think of you missing out on finding the love of your life. I’m so grateful I had those precious years with your father. They have sustained me through the long years since. I live off the memories.’

  Luca gave a serrated sigh and pushed his hair back off his forehead. ‘I’d rather not talk about it now, but next time I’m in New York do you want to catch up over dinner?’

  ‘I would love that.’ His mother’s voice was thick with emotion. ‘Give Nonno my best wishes.’

  ‘Sì,’ Luca said. ‘I will.’

  * * *

  Luca tried not to think about Artie in the next couple of weeks and he mostly succeeded. Mostly. He blocked his memories of her smile, her touch and her kiss with a punishing regime of work that left him feeling ragged at the end of each day. One would think he would stumble into bed and fall instantly asleep out of sheer exhaustion, but no, that was when the real torture got going. The sense of emptiness could be staved off during the day but at night it taunted him with a vengeance. He tossed, he turned, he paced, he swore, he thumped the pillows and doggedly ignored the vacant side of the bed where Artie had once lain. He did his best to ignore the fragrance of her perfume that stubbornly lingered in the air at his villa as if to taunt him. He did his best to ignore the pain that sat low and heavy in his chest, dragging on his organs like a tow rope.

  She left you.

  But then more words joined in the mocking chorus.

  You let her go.

  He allowed them some traction occasionally, using them as a rationalisation exercise. Of course he’d let her go. It was the right thing to do. She wanted more than he could give, so it was only fair that he set her free.

  But you’re not free.

  What was it with his conscience lately? Reminding him of things he didn’t want reminding about. No, he didn’t feel free and—even more worrying—he didn’t want to feel free. He wanted to feel connected, bonded to Artie, because when he was with her, he felt like a fully functioning human being. He felt things he hadn’t felt before. Things he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. Things that were terrifying because they made him vulnerable in a way he had avoided feeling for most of his adult life.

  He had shut down his emotional centre.

  Bludgeoned it into a coma.

  But since his conversation with his mother there were tiny flickers of life deep in his chest like the faint trace of a heartbeat on an electrocardiograph. A pulse of something he had thought long dead. A need he had denied for so long he had fooled himself he wasn’t capable of feeling it.

  The need to love and be loved.

  Three more words popped into his head like a blinding flash of light.

  You love her.

  Luca let them sit for a moment, for once not rushing to block them or erase them or deny them.

  You love her.

  And then he tweaked them, substituting the ‘you’ for ‘I’.

  I love her.

  Bringing himself inexorably closer to the truth, step by step.

  I. Love. Her.

  He embraced the truth of those words like someone sucking in oxygen after near strangulation.

  I love her.

  His chest ballooned with hope, positive energy zapping round his body.

  I love her.

  Luca snatched up his car keys and the wedding and engagement rings from the bedside table. He’d placed them there as a form of self-torture but now he couldn’t wait to see them back on Artie’s finger where they belonged. Nonno was right. Luca’s love for Artie was a force to be reckoned with—nothing would stop him from bringing her home.

  * * *

  Artie heard a car roaring through the castello gates and her heart turned over. She peered through the window in the sitting room and saw Luca unfold his tall, athletic figure from his car. Her pulse picked up its pace, her heart slamming into her breastbone, her skin tingling all over.

  He’s here.

  She walked as calmly as she could to open the front door, schooling her features into a mask of cool politeness. After all, there was no point setting her hopes too high—he hadn’t made a single effort to contact her over the past month. ‘Luca. What brings you here?’ She was proud of her impersonal tone. It belied the tumult of emotions in her chest.

  He stepped through the open doorway with brisk efficiency, closing it with a click behind him. ‘You bring me here, cara. You and only you.’ He stood there with his hands by his sides and his expression set in grave lines. He looked tired around the eyes and his face hadn’t seen a razor in a couple of days. ‘I need to talk to you.’

  Artie took a step back, her arms folding across her chest, her chin lifting. ‘To say what?’

  He unpeeled her arms from around her body, taking her hands in his. ‘I’ve been such a fool. It’s taken me the best part of a month to realise what’s been there all the time.’ He squeezed her hands. ‘I love you, mia piccola. I love you so damn much it hurts. I can’t believe I let you go. Can you ever forgive me?’ He blinked a couple of times and she was surprised to see moisture in his eyes. ‘I made a terrible mistake in not telling you sooner. But I wasn’t able to recognise it until it was too late.’ He drew her closer, holding her hands against his chest. ‘Tell me it’s not too late. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please say yes. Please say you’ll come back to me. Please give me another chance to prove how much I adore you.’

  Artie brought one of her hands up to his prickly jaw, stroking it lovingly. ‘I never thought I’d hear you say those words to me. I had given up hope, especially over the last few weeks.’

  He grimaced and hugged her tightly to his chest. ‘Don’t remind me what a stubborn fool I’ve been. I can never forgive myself for that. I was in such denial that I couldn’t even bring up your name on my phone. I knew it would hurt too much, so I didn’t do it. Classic avoidance behaviour.’

  Artie eased back to smile up at him. ‘You’re here now, so that’s the main thing. I’ve missed you so much. I felt only half alive without you.’

  He framed her face with his hands. ‘You’re everyth
ing I could ever want in a life partner. You complete me, complement me and challenge me to be the best man I can be. I can barely find the words to describe how much you mean to me.’

  ‘I love you too, more than I can say.’

  Luca lowered his mouth to hers and happiness exploded through her being. He was here. He loved her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. His kiss communicated it all, passionately, fervently, devotedly. Even the steady thud of his heartbeat under her hand seemed to say the same. I love you. I love you. I love you.

  After a moment, Luca lifted his mouth off hers and took something out of his trouser pocket. He held the wedding and engagement rings between his fingers. ‘I think it’s time these were put back where they belong, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Artie held out her hand for him to slip them back on her ring finger. ‘I’m never taking those rings off again.’

  Luca smiled. ‘I want you to meet my mother. Will you come to New York with me as soon as possible?’

  Artie raised her eyebrows in delight. ‘You’ve spoken to her?’

  His face lit up with happiness. ‘We had a chat about things and I realised how blinkered I’d been all these years, reading things into her behaviour that weren’t accurate at all. You’ve taught me so much about myself, cara. I can never thank you enough for that. I hope you won’t mind sharing my mother with me? I should warn you that she’ll very likely shower you with love.’

  ‘I won’t mind sharing her at all. I can’t wait to meet her.’ Artie lifted her face for his kiss, her heart swelling with love. Her sad, closed-off life had somehow turned into a fairy tale. She was free from her self-imposed prison, and Luca, the man of her dreams, her Prince Charming, had claimed her as the love of his life.

  Luca finally lifted his head and looked down at her with heart-stopping tenderness. ‘Will you come away for a honeymoon with me after we visit my mother?’

  ‘Just try and stop me.’