The Secret Kept from the Italian

by Kate Hewitt

  ‘Oh, Maisie.’ Max couldn’t hide his concern, and that made Maisie feel worse.

  ‘What? Is it wrong to love someone?’

  ‘Not wrong, but maybe dangerous. Not that I’m one to talk. I’ve never been in love.’ He gave a mock shudder, and Maisie tried to smile. ‘I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve had enough sadness in your life, Maise. We both have.’

  ‘I know. I don’t want any more sadness, trust me.’

  ‘Do you really think Ros—Antonio can make you happy? Can settle down?’

  Maisie tried for a laugh. ‘Those are two different questions.’

  ‘But they’re definitely related.’

  ‘True.’ She sighed and set a squirming Ella on a fleecy blanket on the floor. Her daughter was doing her best to sit up by herself, giving Maisie beaming, drooling grins all the while. Maisie’s heart clenched with love for her daughter.

  ‘And what about Ella?’ Max asked, making Maisie jerk up.

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘You don’t want her to get hurt, either,’ Max said seriously. ‘If Antonio isn’t in it for the long haul, Maisie...’

  ‘Maybe he is.’ Her heart had started thumping uncomfortably. She didn’t like what Max was saying, but she couldn’t really blame him for saying it. She knew he had her best interests at heart. He was only saying what she’d tried not to think about herself.

  Max looked so sceptical that Maisie wished she could laugh, but she couldn’t. It mattered too much. It hurt too deeply. ‘Maisie,’ her brother said. ‘The man is a known playboy. One internet search was all I needed to do. Do you know how many women he’s dated? Supermodels and actresses and all the rest? None of them has lasted more than a week, usually less. A lot less.’

  ‘I know that.’ Maisie’s chest felt tight as she sought to keep her voice steady. ‘I know his reputation, Max.’ Even if she tried not to dwell on it.

  ‘So why do you think he’s changed?’ Max’s hazel eyes were full of compassion and, Maisie feared, pity. ‘Why do you think he’s different with you?’

  What a question. How on earth could she answer it? Because it felt different? Because she wanted it to be different, so, so badly? ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. Her throat was starting to thicken and she blinked rapidly. ‘He just is, Max. At least... I hope he is. With me.’ Which said it all, really. Sometimes that felt like all she had...hope.

  Max was silent for a long moment, and Maisie could hardly look at him. She’d had three of the happiest months of her life, and yet here she was, still in a welter of fear and uncertainty. But was that her fault...or Antonio’s? They were both broken, scarred people, in different ways.

  ‘I’m just worried for you, Maise,’ Max said quietly. ‘That’s all. I want you to be happy. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course I know that.’ Maisie managed a watery smile. ‘Thank you, Max.’

  ‘You’ve done so much for me,’ he persisted. ‘And it’s the least I can do to give you a bit of a warning. It might seem like tough love, but you gave me that over the years, didn’t you?’ His smile was wobbly and wry. ‘Remember when I went to that party when I was seventeen and came back drunk?’

  ‘I might,’ Maisie said with a little answering smile. ‘I held the bucket while you were sick into it.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Max’s smile turned sheepish and apologetic. ‘Sorry about that. But my point is, you grounded me for two weeks. I was annoyed and angry at the time, but I know now you were right to do it. You did the hard stuff because you loved me.’

  ‘And this is you doing the hard stuff?’ Maisie brushed at her eyes. ‘Well, thanks. I do appreciate it, Max. I know you’re looking out for me.’

  ‘And you know if it all goes wrong or ends badly, you’ve got a home with me? No matter what?’

  Maisie suppressed a shudder at the thought of it ending badly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I mean that.’

  After she’d said goodbye, Maisie buckled Ella into her stroller and went for a walk, mainly to clear her head of her endlessly circling thoughts and fears. After living there for three months, the narrow, winding streets had become familiar to her, as had the central square with its fountain and square for bocce. As she sat on a bench and watched the men bowl, the sun warm on her arms and face, she tried to let the worries die down.

  So Antonio hadn’t said he loved her yet. She knew he was trying, and she thought he was happy. It should be okay. Saying three little words wasn’t insurance for anything, anyway. Her parents had told her they’d loved her plenty of times, and look how that had ended.

  Sudden tears filled her eyes. Was she always going to be haunted by the ghosts of her past, the old hurts and griefs, just as Antonio was? She’d thought she’d healed, or at least as much as you could from losing people you loved, but loving Antonio showed her how afraid she still was. Not of him dying the way her parents had, necessarily, but of losing him all the same.

  Ella was beginning to fuss and so, with a heavy heart, Maisie rose from the bench and started back towards the villa. She told herself she had so much to be thankful for—a beautiful home, a healthy baby, a kind and compassionate man in her life, new friends and, more recently, the opportunity to teach violin. She was really very blessed. Why couldn’t she be happy with what she had? Why did she have to constantly worry about losing it, and all the while wanting more?

  Her mobile trilled as she came into the house, and a glance at the screen told her it was Antonio.

  ‘Where are you?’ he asked as she unbuckled Ella from her stroller, the phone cradled between her neck and ear.

  ‘I’m at home. Why?’

  ‘I’m sending a car for you. I’ve got an engagement tonight and I need you there.’

  ‘You do?’ She hadn’t been to a social event since that first charity gala, and now she found herself both excited and slightly annoyed by the possibility. ‘Antonio, it’s already four o’clock and Ella hasn’t even been fed—’

  ‘You can bring her as well. I’ll hire a babysitter.’

  Maisie took a deep breath, determined not to find fault unnecessarily. The truth was, it would be fun to go out, and Ella was taking bottles easily now. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll get her ready.’

  * * *

  Antonio paced the living area of the penthouse as Maisie got ready in his bedroom. They’d spent very little time together in his apartment; in fact, she hadn’t been there since the night of the charity gala, when he’d felt as if his very soul were being blown apart and then reformed as something new and fragile. He had, Antonio reflected, compartmentalised his life quite neatly. Maisie and Ella tucked away in their villa, and his bachelor life in the city. Not that he’d taken advantage of the separation; he couldn’t begin to imagine being with another woman when he had Maisie in his life. But he’d done it unconsciously, as a way to keep that little bit of distance that felt so necessary and that he knew, deep down, could be so destructive.

  He wasn’t immune to the flash of disappointment he saw in Maisie’s eyes when he pulled away from her, or didn’t stay the night, or didn’t say the words he knew she was waiting to hear.

  Tonight was, he hoped, a way to remedy that. He was trying, he wanted to try, and he hoped Maisie realised that, because it was all he had to give.

  ‘I’m ready.’

  He turned at the sound of her quiet voice, and then drew his breath in sharply at the lovely sight of her. Her evening gown was a column of royal blue, emphasising her lush, lithe figure perfectly, and making her hair, worn loose about her face and shoulders, look like a golden-red crown.

  ‘You look like a queen.’

  ‘And you look like a king.’ She smiled uncertainly, and Antonio reached for her hand. Ella was already down for the night, the babysitter he’d engaged happy to listen for her. The evening was theirs.

  ‘Come,
’ he said, and she did.

  Antonio started to relax once they got to the engagement—a fundraising gala sponsored by one of his clients—and they began to circulate. Maisie, despite her nervousness, was a natural at chatting and socialising, her warmth and friendliness shining through. As ever, he was proud to have her on his arm—and he wanted her to know it. To feel it.

  And even though he didn’t have the words, he thought she did feel it; he felt it himself in the smiles she slid his way, the way her eyes lit up, sparkling jade.

  ‘You were magnificent,’ he told her when they were alone later, the babysitter dismissed, the apartment quiet and dark all around them. He drew her into his arms and she rested her head against his shoulder, both of them relaxed in the embrace.

  ‘It seems so surreal,’ Maisie said softly, her forehead pressed against his shoulder.

  ‘What does?’

  ‘Parties, limos, even the villa I live in.’ She paused, took a breath. ‘You.’

  Antonio tensed. He’d been expecting this conversation, had known it would become necessary, but he still didn’t welcome it. He didn’t feel ready. ‘Me?’ he answered carefully. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I just...’ Maisie let out a shuddering breath. ‘I don’t know what’s real, Antonio. What to trust. What to believe.’

  ‘Is it so very difficult?’ He tried to keep his voice even. ‘We’ve been happy, haven’t we, Maisie, these last few months?’

  ‘Happy...yes.’ She lifted her head to gaze at him seriously. ‘But happiness is fleeting, wonderful as it is, and I honestly don’t know whether our happiness has any sure foundation.’ She scanned his face, searching for an answer that Antonio didn’t think she’d be able to find. ‘Does it, Antonio?’ she asked quietly. ‘Are we...are we working towards something more? Something bigger than just this moment?’

  His chest felt tight, a pressure growing that made it hard to speak. ‘We’re trying,’ he said at last. ‘Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘I thought it was. I want it to be. And sometimes it has been. But...’ Maisie let out a soft, sad sigh. ‘You still feel so distant to me sometimes. Almost as if you’re intentionally cutting yourself off. And it makes me afraid, which might be my weakness, because I know what it is to lose somebody, and I don’t want to again.’

  ‘You won’t lose me, Maisie,’ Antonio said, his voice rough with emotion. ‘Not that way.’

  ‘But another way?’ she persisted softly, and Antonio couldn’t answer. So he kissed her instead, tenderly, thoroughly, and thankfully Maisie let herself be kissed.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ‘A DAY FOR ME?’

  Maisie blinked at Antonio uncertainly, the whole idea entirely novel and unexpected. She was lying in bed, the sun streaming through the windows, while he stretched out next to her, a cat-like grin on his undeniably handsome face.

  ‘Yes, for you. Why not? You work so hard, taking care of Ella, and you deserve to be pampered. I’ve arranged some beauty treatments and a full body massage for you at a local spa.’ His grin turned teasingly wolfish as he added, ‘Of course, I could give you the full body massage myself...’

  ‘You could.’ Maisie scooted up in bed, her mind still whirling. Last night she’d felt close to Antonio, despite the way the conversation had ended—with kisses rather than words. She told herself kisses could be enough, and today he seemed smiling and relaxed, which made her smiling and relaxed too. ‘I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a whole day to myself.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘But Ella...’

  ‘Can manage without you for the day. I’ll take care of her, and I’ll bring her back to the villa and put her to bed. It’ll be good for me. For us.’

  ‘Yes...’ She shook her head slowly as she let out a laugh. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Say yes.’

  ‘Okay.’ Maisie grinned; suddenly it seemed easy. ‘Thank you.’

  Antonio pulled her close for a kiss. ‘My pleasure.’

  An hour later Antonio’s driver dropped her off at a luxurious-looking spa, Ella asleep in her car seat next to Antonio in the back of the limo.

  ‘I hope you’ll manage,’ Maisie said with a bit of a grimace. ‘She’s been grumpy for the last few days... I think she’s coming down with a cold.’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ Antonio assured her. ‘I think I can manage twelve hours or so, if only just.’

  ‘Right.’ She was fussing, but only because this would be the longest she’d been away from Ella since she’d been born. ‘Thank you,’ Maisie said, and with one last kiss she slipped out of the car.

  Within minutes of stepping through the elegant tinted glass doors of the spa she was swept away by several glamorous assistants, and in only a few more minutes Maisie found herself in a dimly lit room with soothing music playing in the background, sipping a fruit smoothie as someone massaged her feet. She’d expected to feel awkward and nervous, but what she felt was sheer bliss.

  She couldn’t remember when she’d last been able to properly relax, to let herself be pampered. She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  The day flew by in a whirlwind of treatments—manicure, pedicure, massage, facial, haircut. As Maisie sat in a deep armchair waiting for her toenails to dry, one of the staff handed her a stack of magazines to look at and a foaming cappuccino sprinkled with chocolate. Bliss.

  She’d checked in with Antonio a few hours ago, and he’d assured her that all was fine. Now she flipped open the gossip magazine and happily immersed herself in the fairy-tale world of celebrities.

  By the time the day of treatments was finished, Maisie was glowing on the outside but feeling restless and a little bit anxious to see both Antonio and Ella again. She wanted their arms around her, to revel in the warm embrace of her daughter and the man she loved.

  Antonio had arranged for a car to fetch her and take her back to the villa, and she slid into its sumptuous interior with a breath of relief, happiness buoying inside her at the thought of seeing them both soon.

  When she arrived back at the villa, however, the house was empty and dark. Her joyous expectation soured to unease. It was nearly seven o’clock, Ella’s bedtime. Why on earth was Antonio out, and where was he? The stroller was in the front hall, so he hadn’t taken Ella for a walk. Where could he have gone?

  Maisie combed through the entire house and garden while she rang Antonio’s mobile over and over, only to have it switch to voicemail every time. Where was he? Where was her daughter? Unease gave way to panic as unlikely yet terrifying scenarios ran through her head, fuelled by the uncertainty that was always seething under the surface, waiting to strike.

  Had Antonio just left? Left her? Had he taken Ella somewhere, decided he’d had enough? Maybe the spa day had been some sort of awful ruse.

  Maisie told herself she was being ridiculously paranoid. She knew she was, that no matter how remote Antonio had seemed sometimes, she had no reason to distrust him that much. She loved him, and she hoped in time he would love her.

  And yet. And yet.

  Once before the playing field of her life had been torn up. Once before everything she’d thought certain had been swept away in a single moment. It was hard, so hard, not to fear it happening again. Not to brace herself for it, because that was what life did. It turned on you, pulled the rug right out from under you and left you flat on your back, reeling and devastated.

  Twenty minutes after she’d returned to the darkened house Antonio finally rang. Maisie answered with a gasp of relief.

  ‘Where are you?’ she demanded before either of them had had a chance to say hello. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Maisie—’ Antonio’s voice broke and Maisie went cold.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she asked numbly. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s Ella,’ Antonio said, and Maisie�
��s legs turned weak as she swayed where she stood.

  ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No, please.’

  ‘We’re at the hospital. I didn’t have time to send a car, or ring you, or anything...’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Her voice rose on a cry of pure terror. ‘Antonio, what’s happened to my baby?’

  ‘They’re saying it’s meningitis.’

  Maisie let out a soft cry. Meningitis. A parent’s worst nightmare, for the disease moved so quickly and aggressively.

  ‘Are you at home?’

  ‘Yes.’ Maisie gulped back a useless sob. ‘But I’ll come now. Just tell me which hospital and I’ll come right away.’

  Maisie knew she was in no fit state to drive. Twenty minutes later the taxi she’d called pulled into the paediatric unit of the nearest hospital, Maisie’s heart thudding harder than ever. Antonio met her at the doors, ushering her quickly inside.

  ‘How is she? How did this happen?’

  ‘She’s stable at the moment—’

  ‘At the moment?’ Panic clawed at Maisie’s insides. She couldn’t lose Ella. She just couldn’t. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘She has bacterial meningitis,’ Antonio said quietly. His voice was steady but his face was taut and pale, his eyes like dark shadows. ‘At least they think she does. It came on so suddenly...’ His voice choked and he took a quick breath. ‘I thought she was just upset because of a cold or teething...’

  ‘Just let me see her.’ Maisie couldn’t bear to hear any more, not when she hadn’t even seen Ella. ‘Where is she?’

  Moments later Maisie stood in front of a bassinet, Ella’s inert body lying in it, tubes snaking out of her. She looked tiny and so very sick. Tears started in her eyes and she brushed them away angrily, too impatient, too anxious to give in to such emotion now.