by Dani Collins
That was good, wasn’t it? He was her husband. The father of her child. He was enamored with their daughter and had become so very protective and generous toward her. They were making a life together.
But he didn’t love her.
And all of a sudden, she was alone again.
* * *
She woke to rave reviews and the news from her agent that her show had sold out and there was a clamor for more.
Val congratulated her by pleasuring her past mindless into a soaring climax that shattered her into a million pieces.
“Your sensuality is a glorious thing to behold, bella,” he said huskily as he covered her and thrust into the flesh still singing with joy. “Is it because you’re an artist? Or are you an artist because you live life with your whole body?”
“I can’t talk when we’re like this,” she moaned, lost, utterly lost to the slow power of his body moving upon hers. Within her. Her own body responded to ancient signals and matched his rhythm, hips lifting to greet his. The buildup was steady and incredible, doubling and redoubling until she didn’t know how she could withstand the tension, but she still wanted more and more and more.
This, she thought as they achieved utter synchronicity. It might not be love, but it was art.
In a swooping move, he hooked one strong arm behind her knee, and everything changed. The angle, the depth, the way his impact struck her nerve endings.
She cried out at the acute slam of pleasure that went through her and opened her eyes to the blinding gleam in his. The show of his clenched teeth.
His knowledge that she was there with him. His shoulders tensed and he thrust harder, coming with her as she fell off the cliff and discovered she could fly.
* * *
Over the next few weeks Val began to realize the hidden truth in that senseless expression “wedded bliss.” He rather expected it was ignorance of the future, but he had to admit such blind contentment was enjoyable while it lasted.
When they were home, he and Kiara had fallen into a comfortable routine whereby he worked from the villa as often as he drove into Milan, and she disappeared into the guest cottage for a few hours every day to paint. When they traveled, they booked an extra day or two purely for family fun, spoiling Aurelia silly with days at the beach or amusement parks or other local attractions.
He was turning into that most tedious of animals, the domesticated married man. And despite eschewing all things conventional for most of his life, he was ridiculously smug in his role of husband and father.
“Slow down,” he teased Kiara when they were eating breakfast the morning after a week in New York. “It will still be there in ten minutes.”
Her baleful look made him chuckle.
“I think it’s safe to assume your mother will not be joining us for lunch,” he said to Aurelia.
“Why?” Aurelia stuffed a bite of crepe over her new favorite word.
“Because her studio is ready and she’s excited to work in it. Shall we walk down with her to see it?”
Aurelia nodded and a few minutes later, they ambled through the dewy grass, Val particularly enjoying the way Kiara gasped and halted in her tracks when she saw his surprise.
“You are shameless,” she declared of the small replica of her studio that had been placed a suitable distance from her own, far enough that a child’s playful cries wouldn’t be too distracting, but close enough she could see her daughter from her studio window.
Crouching, she pointed it out to Aurelia. “What is that? Who do you think that is for?”
“Me?” Aurelia took off in her wobbly gallop before she heard the answer.
“I always wanted a playhouse as a girl,” Kiara said, looping her arm around his waist as they followed her. “Thank you for being such an indulgent father.”
“Thank you for giving me someone to indulge.” He kissed the tip of her nose, not sure if he meant his daughter or his wife.
So housebroken and not the least bit regretful, he acknowledged with bemusement.
Of course, his daughter was determined to humble him. She popped out of the little house with a crestfallen expression.
“Where’s my paint?”
“Wow.” Val nodded as he absorbed his own failing. “How did I not see that coming?”
“At least you’re leaving room for me to be the hero sometimes,” Kiara said with a teasing pinch of his side. “I’ll order you some, lovey. Special paint for children. What else do you need?”
Kiara started to poke her head in and Aurelia stopped her with grave importance, holding up her palm. “You have to ask.”
“Oh. Of course. May I come in?”
“Yes.”
“Wonder where she got that from?” Val asked under his breath.
Kiara shot him a doleful look, but they cracked up as she disappeared into the house.
It was the most genuinely carefree moment he’d ever experienced. He wasn’t forcing himself not to care, he merely felt all the heavier, darker cares fall away. They weren’t important when he had this.
He would give these two females the blood and bones and breath from his body, he realized. There was nothing he could ever deny them.
Which was why he experienced such a schism of sheer agony when Kiara told him she wanted to leave him.
* * *
Kiara knew it was a big ask. More than that, it was a plea for trust. It was a test of this nascent, fragile, beautiful bond that was beginning to form between them.
“Javiero won’t be there, just Scarlett and Locke. I’m not sure what’s going on between them, but I’m worried about her. Being a new mother is hard and she was there for me—”
She cut herself off as he glanced at her, the dark admonishment still there that she hadn’t leaned on him when she’d had Aurelia.
They had come a long way and most of her time with Niko was water under the bridge, but Val wouldn’t listen to her complain about any struggles she’d had then when she hadn’t even tried to reach out to him.
She swallowed. Tried a different tack. “I want to finish packing up my old studio.” Hopefully, he would hear that as the permanent shift from her time with Niko to her life here with him that it was.
“You’re not taking Aurelia.”
She clenched her hands together. “Scarlett is the only auntie she has, Val. I know that doesn’t sit well, but I didn’t know Scarlett had an intimate relationship with Javiero until she told me she was pregnant, and he was the father.”
“And if she keeps that sort of secret from her supposed best friend...” He didn’t finish, just left it hanging as a denunciation of Scarlett’s character.
“You and I are not the only two people in this world who have painful things in our past,” she said in a slightly sharper tone. “I haven’t forced you to tell me about yours. Don’t judge Scarlett for keeping her own pain to herself.”
“What does that mean?” Val’s head snapped around. “What did Javiero do to her?”
“Nothing. I mean...” She sighed. “Look, she didn’t tell me much about their relationship and I don’t like betraying what she did confide, but I guess she saw him occasionally, the same way she turned up to badger you on Niko’s behalf. You didn’t ever sleep with her, did you?” she blurted with low horror as it occurred to her.
He glared. “That’s beneath you.”
It was an ironic remark from a man who had prided himself on acting inappropriately, but his mouth twisted as he admitted, “I flirted in the early days, more to test her loyalty than anything. The fact she stuck by Dad so unwaveringly made her less and less attractive to me as time wore on.”
“Yes, well, I gather that was the bone of contention between her and your brother. Javiero expected her to leave Niko for him and she refused.”
The curl of disgust at the corner of his lips deepened. “Poor
Javiero.”
“I’m worried about how things have been going between them, Val.”
They don’t have what you and I do, she wanted to add, but she wasn’t sure what they had. She was terrified of making a false move that would somehow damage his regard. “Javiero isn’t there. She said they needed a break and I get the feeling he’s like you and hates the island.”
“Never again assume that he and I are alike in any way,” he warned dangerously.
“Fine, but you and he still have a relationship that goes beyond hating one another!” She shot to her feet in agitation. “Javiero is Aurelia’s blood relative. Do you realize that? And you have a nephew. Locke is your daughter’s cousin and I will risk your wrath to give our children a better relationship than you have with your equally pigheaded half brother.”
“Pigheaded? The man lacks a basic moral compass,” he snarled. “He had a chance to do the right thing and he didn’t.”
She halted and let her own ruffled feathers settle to make room for the barbed bristles shooting off him.
“Val, what happened?” she asked with pent-up anguish.
His face filled with the bleak rage she’d seen the day of the will reading, when they had dined on the rooftop in Athens before going to the hospital.
“It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, surging to his feet. “Go then. Before I change my mind. Be back within the week or I’m coming to get you. And he had better not come anywhere near either of you.”
* * *
Scarlett burst into tears when Kiara arrived and so did Kiara. When Kiara held sweet-smelling Locke, her ovaries throbbed with longing. Maybe, she thought yearningly, but Val wasn’t ready to talk about more children. He was barely talking to her at all.
She and Scarlett didn’t have that problem. At first, they couldn’t talk fast enough. Scarlett wanted a blow-by-blow on how the gallery showing had gone and where Kiara’s career was taking her. She spared no details about her labor and Locke’s colicky start and how little sleep she was getting.
But slowly, slowly, as the children were put to bed and they shared a bottle of Niko’s best vintage, Scarlett began to cry.
And cry.
She cried so hard Kiara feared she wouldn’t stop.
“I think she’s suffering postpartum,” Kiara told Val over a hushed video chat from her studio a few days later. “I’m trying to convince her to see a doctor and helping with Locke as much as she’ll let me, but she’s so stubborn, convinced she has to do everything herself. She’s pushing herself way too hard.”
“How much longer are you staying?”
“I’m not sure,” she said apologetically, moving quickly as she spoke, boxing up items without her usual care. “I’m only coming in here when everyone is napping, trying to spend as much time with Scarlett as possible. It sounds like things have been a struggle with Javiero’s family. A few more days at least.”
He didn’t bother hiding his scowl of dismay.
A knock at the door had her glancing up to see a maid waving toward the landline extension on the wall.
“Señor Rodriguez is asking for you,” the maid said.
“You said he wasn’t there!” Val snapped.
“He isn’t! He’s on the phone,” she hurried to clarify, but had to text him a few minutes later or risk his thinking she was hiding things from him.
Javiero is coming by boat in the morning. He won’t stay on the island but insists on seeing Scarlett.
She paused, loath to say it, but she had to.
I can’t leave her to face him alone.
Val didn’t respond.
* * *
“That’s him,” Scarlett said in an ominous, hollow tone the next morning while they ate their breakfast on the terrace.
A yacht had appeared on the horizon and it was headed straight toward them. Kiara had the sense of panic ancient people must have felt when the enemy ship appeared and there was nowhere to run. They could only wait, hearts in their throats, for feet to reach land.
When Kiara had spoken to Javiero yesterday, she had discovered he and Val had both inherited Niko’s streak of unstoppable single-mindedness. He was coming whether Scarlett was ready to see him or not, bringing his own accommodation so he could wait her out if necessary.
“If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to,” Kiara reminded her, even though she had no serious means of stopping him if he wanted to push past her.
Scarlett seemed to realize that. She made a noise of hysterical amusement and brought Locke to her shoulder, yanking her robe closed as she did.
“I’ll burp him. You can shower and put your best face on.” Or go back to bed, Kiara wanted to urge, frowning with concern at Scarlett’s bruised eyes and translucent skin.
Scarlett hadn’t slept last night, worried about this coming confrontation. She wasn’t likely to rest now, however, since Javiero was almost here.
“I can do it,” Scarlett insisted absently.
“I want to hold him while I have the chance,” Kiara said truthfully, but she also knew a gentle guilt trip was about the only way she could persuade Scarlett to give herself a break.
Scarlett was refusing to let the nannies do more than restock the diapers and fold laundry, terrified she wasn’t bonding with her son properly. Kiara had a feeling it was Scarlett who was struggling with her feelings, not the contented baby who settled every time he was in his mother’s arms.
Scarlett was in a bad way, convinced she was merely tired and upset about an argument she’d had with Paloma. Kiara suspected there was more to it and doubted Javiero would be anything but added stress. She intended to take Scarlett to see her old doctor while they were here.
“I’ll put him down if he falls asleep,” Kiara promised, holding out her hands.
“Thank you,” Scarlett murmured with defeat, handing across the infant and drifting into the house after a last conflicted look at the approaching boat.
Kiara had just finished settling the dozing infant and agreed with the nanny that yes, Aurelia could watch her show for a few minutes, when she heard the unmistakable rat-a-tat of an approaching helicopter.
The world stopped. She knew instinctively who it was. Her pulse began to throb in time to the rotors. Both excitement and anticipation of disaster whirled within her.
She hurried to the terrace. The yacht had come as close as it dared. A smaller boat had been launched and was headed to the private pier.
She turned and shaded her eyes. The helicopter was closing in.
It was a slow-motion collision that she couldn’t watch. She ran inside to warn Scarlett.
Seconds later Kiara was changing from her yoga pants and T-shirt into a decent dress when the muffled sound of the landing helicopter rumbled the stone walls of the villa. She hurried to the stairs and exchanged an apprehensive look with Scarlett as they trotted down and out to the terrace.
As they emerged, a sound like snarling wolves filled the air.
“Oh, my God,” Kiara murmured as she saw the men.
They had met on the lawn between the stairs to the beach and the path around the house. They were both puffed up, locked in a clash of wills, ready to come to blows.
“Val,” Kiara shouted and hurried down the steps toward them.
“Get Aurelia. We’re leaving,” Val bit out, holding his half brother’s gaze in the way she’d seen him do at the hospital. They were practically nose to nose, teeth bared by their curled lips. “If Scarlett can’t survive without you, she can come with us.”
“Don’t even think—” Javiero started to lunge.
Kiara threw herself between them.
“Stop!” she cried, arms out to hold them apart even as Val gripped her by the shoulders and tried to move her aside. “For the sake of your babies, stop acting like children. Bury the hatchet,” she insisted.
&n
bsp; “Let me just turn around so you can get it in beside your knife,” Javiero sneered, thumbing over his shoulder.
“Me? I stabbed you in the back?” Val asked with outraged astonishment.
“You know you did.”
“When?”
“Don’t play dumb, Val. She’s right about one thing.” Javiero stabbed a finger toward Kiara. “We’re far too old for this.” Javiero looked old. Tired. Haggard and defeated as he let his attention flicker to the terrace where Scarlett stood frozen and pale.
“I’m serious,” Val muttered. “What the hell did I ever do to you to deserve what you did to me?”
“I’ve never done a damned thing to you,” Javiero roared, turning back on him with aggression that sought a target that wasn’t a fragile woman who’d given birth two short months ago.
“You’ve never done anything for me, either. Have you?” Val charged, the disillusionment in his face stopping Kiara’s heart.
Her hand instinctively tried to soothe by moving against his chest, but he brushed her hand away.
Javiero faltered. His mouth tightened. “You’re blaming me for the bullies at school? I was a child, Val. I didn’t ask for anyone to behave that way and I told them to stop. They weren’t my friends. I didn’t pile in. The administration should have taken steps. You didn’t need to cut my entire family loose over it.”
“I cut myself loose,” Val said with a knock of his fist into the middle of his own chest. “I told you to take all of this.” He flung out his hand to encompass the island. “Don’t put it on me that you refused it.”
“Nice fairy tale you’ve told yourself. Dad wasn’t about to leave his fortune to the weaker son who wasn’t capable of supporting himself. How the hell was I supposed to do that at thirteen?” Javiero scoffed. “My family sat on the brink of ruin for a decade because of your precious need to stick it to everyone around you. So screw you very much for that. Now, get the hell out of my way because I want to see my son.”