by Helen Brooks
'Oh, no.' Claire sat up straighter. 'Was anything of value taken?'
'Not in the way of cash—it has never been a practice of mine to hold large sums of money either at the office or here at home—but there were some papers of a confidential nature that might prove troublesome in the wrong hands,' Donato answered distractedly. 'The police would like me to go and see what, if anything, is missing.'
'You go, then.' Claire smiled up at him as his eyes moved to her. 'I'm here with Grace so everything's all right.'
'I could be some time, and Grace was very uncomfortable at dinner,' Donato said worriedly. 'I do not feel I want to leave her tonight.'
'She's been uncomfortable before, Donato.' Claire found it both amusing and touching that this hard, ruthless business tycoon, who had a reputation for rapier-sharp shrewdness and inexorable authority, had been in a state of quiet agitation for days now, every twinge or ache that Grace experienced throwing him into a mild panic. 'And I'm here. I won't leave her for a minute until you get back, OK? I'll sleep in one of the spare bedrooms in Bambina Pontina if you aren't home before we go to bed.'
'I am sorry, Claire.' He smiled at her ruefully. 'You think I am the fool, eh? The—what does Grace say, now?—ah, yes, the whittler?'
'Of course not.' She grinned back. 'She's precious to you, and the babies are precious, but everything is going to be fine, I promise you. Now you go and sort out what's what and I'll let Grace sleep as long as she wants before we move indoors.'
Once he had gone, albeit reluctantly, Claire sank back on the lounger and reached for a magazine from the pile at the side of her. She wasn't going to think of Romano, she wasn't—because it was a sure-fire bet he certainly wasn't thinking of her. OK, so she'd been less than wise that evening, but he hadn't exactly been whiter than white, had he? And his attitude since had been plain…insulting. She nodded fiercely and buried her head in the glossy pages.
He had known exactly what he was doing. Once it was there she worried at the thought, unable to let it go. It had been a calculated assault on her senses from beginning to end, a coldblooded exercise to get what he wanted. It was clear he was an accomplished lover and a brilliant strategist.
The memory of how it had felt to be in his arms swept over her and she shivered helplessly. Yes, definitely accomplished, she thought wretchedly. Oh, she hated him. But she didn't. She loved him. And therein lay the root of all her anguish.
When Grace woke an hour later Claire was still gazing blindly at the same magazine, but she immediately roused herself and smiled warmly, as though she hadn't got a care in the world, as she said, 'Hello, sleepyhead. Enjoy your nap?'
'Yes, I— Oh—oh, Claire…' A few moments of gasping in air later Grace said, 'I think…I think you'd better call Donate'
Claire had sprung to kneel at her friend's side, and now she was the one who gasped slightly. 'It's not— they aren't coming?'
'They are.' There was a finality in Grace's voice that brooked no argument. 'I was dreaming I was having pains, but I was so exhausted I think I slept through it anyway. But that last one was a definite "get your bag packed".'
'Grace, Donato isn't here.' Claire explained quickly and then added hopefully, 'Do you think you can wait until he gets back?'
'I—'
Again Grace's voice was cut off by a contraction, clearly more powerful than the one before, and it was Claire who said, 'No, you can't, can you? I…I'd better call a taxi. Just try and relax.'
'Not a taxi.' Grace reached out a hand and grasped her arm as she pulled herself into a sitting position. 'I need to go to the loo and get my things anyway, and in that time Romano could be here. Donato would never forgive me if I didn't call him,' she added ruefully.
'Romano?' She knew Donato would want it.
'Yes, call him, would you, and give Donato's office a ring to let him know what's happening? You might get the answering machine but leave a message anyway. That's all we can do.' Grace's voice was marvellously matter-of-fact, she had clearly switched into birth mode and wasn't about to be flummoxed by anyone or anything. 'Ring the hospital too, and tell them we're on our way. All the numbers are by the phone in the hall.'
By the time Romano strode through the door, after Claire's terse telephone call of very few words, Grace had just walked through from her own quarters with Lorenzo and Claire at her side and sunk into a chair by the front door.
'You must have driven like a madman,' Grace said blithely, ignoring his frowning dark face as she stood up slowly, Claire holding her elbow. 'There was no need—'
Her voice was cut off, and Claire and Romano took her weight as she leant forward, breathing heavily, as another pain hit. 'They're every six minutes now, so I think there is a need,' Claire said grimly, and their eyes met over Grace's red-gold curls. 'I'd get there as fast as possible, if I were you. Now they've decided to be born they can't wait.'
Romano swore, softly but with heartfelt intensity, and then lifted Grace bodily into his arms, beckoning with his head for Claire to open the front door and saying to Lorenzo, 'Hold the fort, OK? You are in charge now. Claire has told you she has left a message for Donato?' Lorenzo nodded, his brown eyes enormous. 'He will probably come straight to the hospital, but if he telephones tell him what is happening—you understand?'
'Sì.' Lorenzo's voice was little more than a whisper. 'And…and Grace…?'
'Grace is going to be fine.' Romano's voice was soft now, tender, and it made Claire want to howl as it touched something deep inside. 'Trust me, Lorenzo. All is well, OK?' His dark eyes were steady as they held the boy's gaze. 'You know I would not lie to you?' he said as he let Grace's feet touch the floor again.
'Sì.' Lorenzo's voice was a little stronger.
'Then take care of things here—I can ask you to do this?' Romano asked quietly. 'As soon as there is news you will be the first to know, but for now Donato needs you to take charge so that he can concentrate on Grace and the babies without worrying about home.'
'I can do this.' Lorenzo's voice was suddenly ridiculously like Donato's, and the lump in Claire's throat grew.
'I know.' Romano leant forward, but instead of patting Lorenzo on the head, or ruffling his black curls as he had been wont to do in the past, he held out his hand for the young boy to shake, causing Lorenzo to swell visibly as he solemnly shook his brother-in-law's hand before Romano lifted Grace into his arms again.
He'd handled Lorenzo's nerves perfectly. The thought was at the forefront of Claire's mind as Romano carried Grace, who was now protesting strongly that she was quite capable of walking, out to the BMW, where he deposited her on the back seat and placed a light blanket over her legs. 'Be quiet, woman, and put your mind to your breathing or panting or whatever it is women do at this time,' he said with mock severity, before shutting the car door and indicating for Claire to sit in the front passenger seat.
As the powerful engine purred into life and the car moved smoothly away Claire waved at Lorenzo, who was standing on the steps, until they turned a corner in the long drive and he was lost to view. 'You were very good with him back there.' She spoke the thought that had been on her mind, and Grace added her agreement from the back seat.
'He needed to be given something to do, something to focus his mind on, that is all,' Romano said quietly. 'He is a Vittoria. It is not in his nature to sit around and twiddle his thumbs.'
'It's not in a Bellini's nature either,' Grace piped up again, before a slight groan and some heavy breathing told the two in the front that the conversation was finished.
Once they were at the hospital the medical machine took over, but when Grace was established in a private room a nurse came to tell Claire that she was wanted. 'I understand the husband, he is on his way?' the rotund middle-aged woman asked quietly, with a polite nod at Romano, who was sitting in the small waiting room, legs outstretched and seemingly relaxed. But he wasn't. Claire knew he wasn't. Quite how she knew, she wasn't sure, but this calm, composed air was an act
. She knew it. 'If your husband does not mind waiting, Signora Vittoria would like to see you.'
'He…I'm not married. This is a friend of Signor Vittoria,' Claire said stiffly, her cheeks flaming. 'You'll wait for Donato?' she added as she turned to face Romano. 'The policeman who was manning the phone at his office was going to find him straight away. He was out somewhere talking to one of the security people, so he shouldn't be long.'
'Of course I will wait,' he said quietly, the dark eyes expressionless as they looked into hers and his aura of cool remoteness sitting on him like a cloak.
How could one man be so…complete? she asked herself painfully as she followed the nurse out of the room and into the gleaming white corridor outside. Didn't he let anything touch him any more? He was so contained, so in control. She had never met anyone who had such command of themselves and their emotions. It wasn't just intimidating, it was frightening.
He wasn't going to be able to take this. Once he was alone Romano sprung up out of his seat, his teeth clenched and his body taut as he strode across to the small, narrow window and stared out into the darkness beyond.
He had dreamt her, breathed her, tasted her for weeks… It was a physical thing, dammit, it was just a physical thing—and as such could be dealt with. The thought was hot and fierce.
He thrust his hands deep into his pockets, his black leather jacket and black jeans emphasising the dark aura that permeated from the powerful frame like an icy cold cloud.
Why hadn't he gone out and got a woman—any woman—to relieve the ache inside him? he asked himself savagely. There were any number he knew who would be only too willing to fall into his bed, so why hadn't he behaved as she expected him to behave, dammit? She credited him with as little finesse in these matters as a stud stallion, she had made that clear from day one, so why didn't he kill this ridiculous craving in the age-old way? This was a body thing, an annoying and inconvenient irritation. That was all it was. He knew it— hell, he knew it in his head, so why didn't his body take notice?
A sudden noise from the corridor outside caught his attention and he swung round to face the door, but when it remained closed he turned back to the darkness outside the window, his thoughts moving off at a tangent now. He should be thinking about Grace and Donato at a time like this, not of his own needs. What sort of a friend was he anyway? He shook his head angrily. After all they'd gone through, all they'd suffered, everything had to be all right with these babies—had to be. Anything else was unthinkable.
Unbidden, a sweet little face topped by silky black curls formed on the screen of his mind. Paolo, Donato's first child, who had been so loved and so cherished, and whose death had caused such devastation. They had grieved for him and they still grieved, they always would, and although the twins wouldn't take his place they would help to soothe the ache he knew Grace and Donato still lived with.
He glanced at his watch, his eyes narrowing as he saw that some thirty minutes had elapsed since they had arrived at the hospital. Where the hell was Donato anyway? He'd give it another five minutes and then—
The door opening brought him swinging round to see Claire entering with a tray holding two cups of coffee. 'Donato's here. He's gone straight in,' she said shortly.
'And Grace?'
'She's OK. They think it will be an hour or two yet before she gives birth. She…she's in a lot of pain,' she added, so quietly he only just caught what she had said, 'but they appear to think that's normal.' She hadn't meant to say that last bit, it had just popped out of its own volition.
'Hey, come on.' He wasn't distant now. His voice was warm and husky as he moved swiftly to her side, taking the tray from her hands and placing it on the coffee-table before enfolding her into his arms. 'This is all new territory to me and you, but do not forget they have been through it before. Everything will be all right.'
'You don't know that.' Her stomach was churning violently, but to her chagrin she knew it was less out of worry for Grace—real though her anxiety was—and more because of the terrible enchantment of being held so close to the big male body she had dreamt about every night for weeks.
'This is a first-rate hospital and the facilities are second to none,' he said softly, resting his chin on the top of her head as he shaped her against his frame, moving in such a way that her hands crept round his waist as he snuggled her into him. 'Grace is young and healthy, and the babies are a good weight…you only have to have seen Grace over the last weeks to know that,' he added with wry amusement.
'But they're early—'
'Two, at the most three weeks,' he countered tenderly, 'which is nothing with twins—especially when the mother resembles an elephant!'
'Romano!' But she was laughing now, and as she relaxed against him, shutting her eyes for a moment and breathing in the heady fragrance of clean male skin and expensive aftershave, he felt his loins tighten and swell, and after a moment moved her from him to look down into her face.
'Is that coffee you brought in with you?' he asked lightly. 'Because I could certainly do with a cup.'
'Oh, of course.' He had retreated again, gently this time, kindly even, but just as implacably as before, she thought numbly, feeling the rebuff right down to her toes. And that hug—it had clearly meant as little to him as if he'd been hugging his grandmother. Whereas she… She had felt the contact in every nerve and sinew, and a few other places she could well have done without. It was humiliating, embarrassing to feel this way about a man who barely knew she existed. But at least he couldn't read her mind, he didn't know what she was feeling, and she'd rather die than let him guess.
For the first hour after they had drunk their coffee Romano was the suave, amusing companion he had been on one or two other occasions, exerting himself to keep her entertained and her mind off what was happening a few rooms away. And although she was aware it was a facade that he had perfected it was nevertheless engaging. As time went on, however, she noticed his eyes moved more and more often to the door until, some two hours and thirty minutes after they had entered the hospital, Donato made an appearance.
'Is everything all right?' They had both risen to their feet, but even as Claire asked the question she knew everything was not all right. The information was there to read in the set of Donato's face and the tightness of his mouth.
'They are talking about the possibility of a Caesarean.' Donato's voice was calm; his eyes were anything but. 'The first baby, the one already in the birth canal, is not coming as it should, and Grace is getting tired.'
'Oh, Donato…'
'Please, do not worry, Claire.' Donato was quick to reassure her, but all three of them knew his heart wasn't in it. 'She is in the best place for any decisions that need to be made. Look, I must get back, but I just wanted to say that if you two want to go home…'
'No.' Romano's answer was instant. 'We will wait.' He turned to her as he added, 'You wish this?'
'Of course—you know I do,' she said quietly.
'Yes, I know.' His eyes held hers for a long moment and then he stepped forward, hugging Donato to him briefly before he pushed him gently towards the door. 'Go on—go back to her,' he said softly. 'Everything will be well.'
They sat in a stunned kind of silence for some minutes after Donato had left, the muted sounds of the hospital filtering through to their quiet little room now and again, and then Romano began to talk, his defences lowered by his overriding worry for his friends.
Claire knew she was in a unique position, that she was hearing things he had probably never expressed before, and she sat quietly at first, barely breathing.
'Nothing can be allowed to go wrong with this birth— nothing. Not after all they have gone through. When I think of all the children who are unwanted and unloved, born to parents who have no time for them… But Grace and Donato are not like that.' He was staring at her without really seeing her. 'They loved Paolo so much it was almost painful to see them all together. They will love these two in the same way.'
'I know.'
'You were born into a happy family?' he asked, his eyes focusing on her troubled face.
'Yes, very happy,' she said quietly. 'I have five older brothers, so I was teased unmercifully, but I always knew they would have done anything for me, and Mum and Dad loved us all. We had a lot of fun together, the eight of us.'
'Sì, this is how it should be.' He smiled mirthlessly, his eyes remote again as he looked inward. 'My mother gave birth to me just twelve months after she married my father, and fortunately I was the heir my father wanted. I say fortunately because if there had been girls before me they would have had to endure the same loveless existence I did, and I would not wish that on any child. My father's life was his own small empire. He lived to exert power and make money, nothing else mattered, and he was easily the most ruthless individual I have ever come across. I have seen him break a man, emotionally and mentally, and take great pleasure in doing so.'
'But your mother—she wasn't like that?' Claire asked softly, trying to hide the horror she was feeling.
'My mother was a social animal of the highest order,' he said quietly. 'She lived to entertain and be entertained. I heard her say on numerous occasions when I was growing up that if she had had to endure another pregnancy she would have killed herself, and there is no doubt that she meant every word.'
His beautiful dark eyes registered her shock and he smiled coldly, the black eyebrows twisting sardonically. 'You do not think a woman could feel like this? Oh, I assure you it is true,' he said softly. 'Not that she had a particularly bad time, as I understand, she just couldn't bear the physical changes of carrying a child. I do not think she ever forgave me for what she termed the most debasing and degrading experience of her life. So you see she too was unutterably thankful I was the required heir and her duty was done.'