“You make an attractive family,” Marianna teased. “Maybe I should sell it to the papers.”
“You do, and I’ll return my breast pump.” That she could have such an exchange without blanching spoke volumes about how well she was recovering from the scandal. She turned her attention back to the phone screen, her gaze moving from her face to Nico’s to Rosa’s and back to Nico’s. There was definitely distance in Nico’s smile...
Meanwhile, Ryan had retrieved Rosa, who hadn’t woken up, and was tucking her into her bassinet. “I meant to tell you,” he said, “the cradle fits the space perfectly.”
“I’m glad,” Nico replied.
“Nico had the family cradle restored,” Marianna explained.
“He did?” She hadn’t known, although knowing his respect for tradition, the gesture didn’t surprise her.
“It has been in our family for generations,” he replied, eyes still on the baby. “Made sense that it be used by the first member of the next generation.”
“The piece is almost too beautiful for Rosa to sleep in,” Ryan said.
“Come with me; I’ll show you.”
After casting a protective glance into the bassinet Marianna led her toward the nursery. “You know, I almost took the baby monitor with me,” she said as they walked up the stairs. “But I thought that might be overprotective.”
“With Ryan sitting five feet away from her, I would say yes,” Louisa teased. Her friend’s extreme mothering was adorable. Might not be so cute when Rosa was older, but seeing as how Marianna had only been a mother for two days, she couldn’t help smiling. The Amatuccis didn’t do things halfway, did they?
The room was a baby’s paradise. The couple had forgone traditional baby colors in favor of restful lavender, browns and greens. The Tuscan hillside, Louisa realized. Stuffed animals and books already filled the shelves, and there were, not one, but two mobiles, one hanging over what looked to be a small play area in the corner.
On the back wall hung a large landscape of the vineyards with baby animals playing peek-a-boo among the vines. Louisa spied a rabbit and a kitten straight off. “Logan Cascini’s wife, Lucia, painted it as a baby gift,” Marianna told her. “There are supposed to be eleven different baby animals hiding in the fields. So far Ryan and I can only find eight.”
“It’s amazing.” This was a gift that would amuse a child for years to come. Something Louisa would want for her own child. “Makes my breast pump look lame,” she said.
As exquisite as the painting was, however, it paled in comparison to the cradle below it. Ryan hadn’t exaggerated. It was gorgeous. It wasn’t that the piece was fancy; in fact the design was actually very modest, but you could feel its history. The tiny nicks and dents told the story of all the Amatuccis that had slept safe in its confines. She ran her hand along the sideboard. The restorer had done a great job, polishing the olive wood to a gleaming dark brown without destroying what made it special.
“My great-grandfather built this when my grandfather was born. According to my father, it was because my great-grandmother demanded he not sleep in a drawer. Baby Amatuccis have slept in it ever since.”
Louisa tried to picture Nico as a baby with his thick dark curls. Bet he had a smile that could melt your heart.
She wondered why he hadn’t told her what he was planning. But then, why would he? No doubt the idea came to him when Marianna had announced her pregnancy. If she recalled, the two of them had hardly been friends at the time. Not like they were now.
Actually she wasn’t sure what they were to each other anymore. Did a friend lie in bed listening for the sound of footsteps in the hall, relieved yet disappointed when the steps didn’t draw near her door? Did a friend watch her friend while he worked, wondering what it might feel like to run her hands down his muscular arms? Louisa doubted it. Yet she had done both those things the past couple of days.
Then there was the fact she was continuing to stay at the vineyard. The headlines had stopped. There was little reason she shouldn’t return to the palazzo and start figuring out what she wanted to do for the future.
So how come the two of them were continuing to cohabitate as though they were a couple?
“...godparents.”
She realized Marianna was talking. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was thinking about something else.”
“Here I thought I was the one with distractions,” the brunette teased. “Please tell me you’ll pay better attention to your goddaughter.”
“G-goddaughter?” Was Marianna asking what Louisa thought she was asking?
“Ryan and I were hoping you would be Rosabella’s godmother.”
Godmother? She had to have misunderstood. In Italy, a godparent was expected to play a huge role in a child’s life. More like a second parent. And they were asking her?
That’s why they’d insisted on including her in the photograph. “Are—are you sure?” she asked. “There isn’t someone you want more?” Her brother Angelo’s wife, for example.
“Ryan and I can’t think of anyone we’d want more,” the brunette said, reaching over and resting a hand atop hers.
“But the scandal?”
“Who cares about the scandal? The scandal is what makes you so perfect. We want our daughter to grow up knowing that doing the right thing isn’t always easy, but that truly strong people find a way to make it through.”
Louisa couldn’t breathe for the lump in her throat. Marianna and Ryan...they thought her brave? Talk about ironic. She’d felt nothing but fear from the day she discovered Steven’s duplicity. “All I did was tell the authorities the truth.” And seize an opportunity to escape.
“You did more than tell the truth. You paid a price publicly. It couldn’t have been easy being destroyed by the press the way you were. That’s the kind of person I want to help guide my daughter. A woman who’s strong enough to bounce back.”
Had she really, though? Bounced back? There were still so many fears holding her back. She wasn’t sure she’d ever completely escape Steven.
Still, the invitation meant more than Marianna would ever realize. Louisa felt the tears pushing at her eyes. Seemed like all she did was tear up lately. “You just want me to give you a better baby gift,” she said, sniffing them away.
Marianna’s eyes were watery. “So is that a yes?”
“Yes!” Louisa didn’t stop to think twice. “I would be honored.”
“Perfect. I’m so happy.” The brunette clapped her hands together the way a child might when getting a special gift. “This will be perfect. You can teach Rosa how to be strong and gracious, and her godfather will teach her how to be smart and respect tradition. Along with winemaking, that is.”
Wine? “Who are you going to ask to be godfather?” she asked. As if she didn’t know. There was only one man who fit that description.
Her friend looked at her with surprise. “Nico, of course.”
Of course.
“Is that a problem?”
Only in the sense that she and Nico would be bound together for the rest of Rosa’s life. Flutters took over her insides.
“No, no problem,” she said.
Marianna’s reply was preempted by a high-pitched wail coming from downstairs.
“Looks like I didn’t need to bring the monitor after all,” the new mother said. “Rosa has inherited my lungs.”
* * *
“Ryan and Marianna are going to have their hands full fending off the boys when Rosa’s older, that’s for sure,” Louisa said as they crossed the plaza a short while later. “I won’t be surprised if Ryan decides to ship her off to a convent when she’s older just to keep them away.”
“Yes,” Nico replied. “Because naturally Italy is full of convents where the residents can hide their children.”
“It’s an expression, Nico.”
“I know what it is.” He tightened his grip on the shopping bag he was carrying, the plastic handle threatening to snap in two from the pressure. The kno
t at the base of his neck had been tightening since they’d left Marianna’s villa, fed by his companion’s continual gushing over baby Rosabella. How beautiful, how sweet, how tiny, how wonderful. Every adjective reminding him of his shortcomings, because he felt nothing.
“I’m sure Ryan will deal with the onslaught of suitors when the time comes,” he told her.
“I’m sure he will, too.” She looked at him with a frown. “What gives? You’ve been in a bad mood all morning. Is everything all right?”
No. Everything was horrible. How else could it be when the world decided to remind you of unvarnished truths? “I have a lot to do at the winery, is all.”
“You sure that’s all it is?”
“What else would it be?” he asked, in a casual voice. Thank goodness for his sunglasses. He wasn’t sure his eyes looked nearly as impassive as his voice sounded.
“I don’t know. I was wondering if it had something to do with baby Rosa.”
He stumbled over a cobblestone. “Contrary to what you think, the birth of baby Rosa is not the biggest event taking place in this town.”
“No, but it is the biggest thing to happen to your family. I would think you’d be happy for Marianna and Ryan.”
“I am happy for them.” Granted he hadn’t been thrilled when he’d first discovered Marianna was pregnant by a man she barely knew, but since then Ryan had proven himself devoted to both his sister and their child. “I hope Rosa is the first of many children.”
“Good, because back at the villa you looked like you didn’t want anything to do with the baby.”
On the contrary. He turned to look at her. “I wanted plenty.”
If Louisa caught the pointedness in his comment, she let it pass. They’d reached the town center. It being only a few days until the festival, tourists crowded the cobblestone square. Camera phones at the ready, they posed in front of the fountain and raised them to snap pictures of brightly decorated balconies. Many carried shopping bags like his. Monte Calanetti’s economy was still going strong. Rafe would be happy. A lot of these people were no doubt eating at Mancini’s this evening.
As though by mutual agreement, he and Louisa stopped in the square where they’d had their first kiss. He wondered how often she thought of that afternoon. As often as he did? Thinking of their kiss had become practically an obsession.
He wasn’t sure if nature was trying to soothe him by pointing out that he could at least feel physical passion, or if she were mocking him by giving him a pointless attraction.
To rub salt into his wounds, he stole a long look at Louisa’s profile. The way her hair turned white in the bright sun was something he’d never grow tired of studying. He loved the way her hair wasn’t one color but a collection of platinum and gold strands woven together to create a shade that was uniquely Louisa. It was her hair, no doubt, that had caught Steven Clark’s attention on the elevator. Had his fingers itched to comb through the colors the way Nico’s did?
Louisa turned in his direction, and he quickly looked away.
“Did your sister tell you she asked me to be Rosabella’s godmother?” she asked him.
“She did?” He hadn’t known, but he wasn’t surprised. Marianna had told him how much she’d come to care about Louisa these past months.
“She said she picked me because I could teach her daughter about being strong. Funny, but I don’t think of myself as strong.”
Because she didn’t give herself enough credit. “You’re stronger than you think.”
“Maybe,” she said, looking away. The knot at the back of Nico’s neck returned as he guessed what her next comment would be. “She told me they asked you to be the godfather.”
“They did.” For some insane reason, they actually wanted him as a backup parent. The question had caught him so off guard he couldn’t answer.
“It’s not going to be a problem, is it?” Louisa asked. “Being paired with me? I know it’s a big deal here, and if you’d rather stand up with someone else...”
“What? No.” He hadn’t stopped to think that his unenthusiastic answer might sound like an objection to her. “I think you’ll be a wonderful godmother. It’s me that I’m worried about.”
“If you’re afraid you’re going to drop her...”
“No, I’m not afraid of dropping her.”
“Then, what’s the matter?”
“It’s complicated,” he replied. Hoping she’d drop the subject, Nico walked toward the fountain.
Monte Calanetti’s famed nymph reclined across her rocks, the clamshell in her hand beckoning to all who wanted to toss a coin. Based on the silver and gold coins shimmering beneath the water, a lot of tourists had tried today. “Have you ever wished on the fountain?” he asked when he felt Louisa standing behind him. A silly question. Everyone in Monte Calanetti had tried at least once to land a coin in the clamshell.
“Sure,” she replied. “My coin missed the shell, though.”
“Mine always missed, too.”
“And I thought you were perfect.”
She was joking, but Nico grimaced all the same. He was most definitely not perfect.
So much for changing the subject. “Didn’t matter. My wish came true anyway,” he replied.
“What did you used to wish for?”
“That I wouldn’t be like my parents. In and out of love. Jumping from one drama to another. I would not live on an emotional roller coaster.”
Her hand came to rest between his shoulder blades, the warmth from the contact reaching through his linen shirt. “Can’t blame you there,” she said “Who would?”
No one, or so he’d thought, which was why he’d stood here as a little boy and tossed coin after coin. He could see himself, standing at the fountain’s edge, his jaw clenched with determination. “Unfortunately, it worked too well,” he said, with a sigh.
“You’re confusing me.”
Of course he was. Louisa felt things deeply. He saw the warmth in her eyes when she looked at Rosa, the immediate affection. His sister couldn’t have picked a better woman to help guide his niece through life. She would love Baby Rosa like her own. Unlike...
Fear gripped his chest. “Everyone sees me as some kind of leader,” he said. “A man they can count on.”
“Because you are. You certainly hold Monte Calanetti together. Not to mention the vineyard, the palazzo.”
“Those are things, businesses. Anyone can manage a business. People, on the other hand...” He took off his sunglasses, wanting her to see how serious he was regarding his question. “What if I let her down?”
“Who?”
“Baby Rosa. What if she can’t count on me? What if I can’t love her enough to be there emotionally when she needs me to?”
“You’re serious? That’s why you kept pulling away when we talked about the baby.” She sank to sit on the fountain wall. “Do you really believe you won’t be able to care about your own niece?”
“Care about, yes, but care enough?” He shook his head. “I’ve already proven I can’t.”
“When? Oh, your fiancée.”
“My fiancée.” Taking a space next to her, he let his shopping bag rest on the ground between his feet. Thankfully the noontime heat had chased many of the tourists to the shade, leaving them momentarily alone.
“Floriana was a wonderful girl. Smart, beautiful, kind. We shared all the same interests. We never ever argued.”
“She sounds perfect.”
“She was,” he said, staring at his hands. “We were perfect for each other.” The answer tasted sour on his tongue. In a way, singing Floriana’s praises to Louisa felt wrong.
“What happened?”
“Simple,” he said. “I broke her heart.”
* * *
There had to be more to the story. Something that Nico wasn’t telling her. The man she knew wouldn’t carelessly break a woman’s heart.
Although wasn’t that exactly the kind of man she’d thought he was when she’d met him?
Yes, she had, but she knew better now. Knew him better now. “Surely it’s not as simple as that,” she said.
“Ah, but it is,” he replied. “As perfect as Floriana was—as we were for each other—I couldn’t love her. Not truly and deeply, the way a person should be loved. That’s when I realized I’ll never be like my parents or like Angelo or Marianna. I don’t have it in me.”
“It?”
“Passion. Real, deep emotion.
“It’s true,” he said when Louisa opened her mouth to argue. “Angelo and Marianna, they are like my parents. They feel things. Highs. Lows. Excitement. They thrive on it, even. But me... I don’t want highs and lows. I want calm. I want...”
“Consistency,” Louisa supplied. Certainty. To know when he walked through the door that his world hadn’t been turned upside down. She had the sudden flash that Nico had been as trapped by his parents’ chaos as she had been by Steven’s control.
“Consistency is one way of putting it, I suppose. Much better than saying I lack depth.”
“Is that what Floriana said? She was wrong.”
“Was she?”
“Just because you don’t throw plates like your parents doesn’t mean you’re not capable of passion.” It killed her to hear him beat himself up so needlessly. Couldn’t he see how impossibly wrong he was about himself? She’d witnessed his passion plenty of times. In the vineyards when he talked about Carlos. When he talked of Monte Calanetti’s traditions.
When he’d kissed her. She’d never felt such passion before.
Nico stared at his hands as if they held the argument he needed. “Then why didn’t I feel anything today?” he asked. “The three of you—Marianna, Ryan, you—you couldn’t stop oohing and aahing at Baby Rosa. Meanwhile, the only thing going through my mind was that she looked...small.”
“What did you expect to think? She’s three days old. It’s not like she’s going to be filled with personality.”
“But everyone else...”
Okay, now she wanted to shake him and make him see sense. For a smart man, he was being incredibly stupid. “Marianna and Ryan are her parents. If she wrinkles her nose they think it’s a sign of genius.”
Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 12