‘You can cook?’
‘Anyone who bears the Martini name has to know how to make the perfect lasagne. Just ask any one of my sisters.’
‘Oh...’ Georgia let the bag full of the papers she had brought home slip from her hand.
She was late. Coming home to a house that had its lights twinkling in the darkness had been a lift all by itself. Entering a kitchen that was redolent with the most delicious smell she had ever encountered was actually overwhelming enough to make her feel unsteady on her feet.
Maybe that was because her feet were so swollen today. Or that she’d been pushing herself so hard at work for the last week or more that she was exhausted. It had worked, though. Any issues that were bothering her hadn’t been allowed any significant head space and Matteo had made it easier out of work hours, too, with the way he had been using her home as little more than a hotel, always gone so early and often back so late their paths had barely crossed.
Which made this scenario even more blindsiding.
‘You’ve been working too hard,’ Matteo told her. ‘And I’ve been rude. I’ve hardly been here. I had a night out with the guys from work. With Luke. At the gym. Anyway... This is my way of saying thank you. Please...sit down. I thought it would be more comfortable for you on the couch. Can I get you something to drink?’
There was bottle of red wine open on the coffee table in the small sitting room, between a basket of freshly sliced baguette and a bowl of what looked like a very crispy green salad.
The wine was tempting but Georgia’s hand went automatically to her belly, where it was rewarded with the bump of a kick from a tiny foot.
‘A water would be great.’
‘Sparkling or still?’
‘Oh...sparkling, please. I could pretend it’s champagne.’
‘Which is exactly why I bought some.’ Matteo’s smile curled more widely. ‘I hadn’t forgotten your preference.’
He had brought a chilled bottle of champagne to the table at the end of the competition, hadn’t he? For her. The first move in that dance that had led them to its memorably intimate conclusion.
Georgia sank onto the couch. The wave of emotion threatened to drown her but she was too tired to fight.
Maybe she could just float for a while, she decided, easing off shoes that had become far too tight.
Every mouthful of this unexpected dinner was delicious, possibly because of far more than the actual taste of the food. What was astonishingly powerful was this feeling of being cared for.
Of feeling...safe...
Oh, man... Georgia took a large gulp of her water. She hadn’t been this close to crying since she’d first found out she was pregnant. Or when she’d been standing there in that ancient chapel, listening to Luke and Kate pledge their undying love for each other.
Thank goodness the chirp of Matteo’s phone broke the atmosphere.
‘Ah...’ His face broke into a grin as he opened his text message. ‘Bel bambino... Look.’ He held the screen for Georgia to see. ‘That’s Arlo, waving hello to his uncle while he’s having his bath.’
A fat, adorable baby with soap bubbles adorning his curly, dark hair was beaming at the camera, his chubby arms held up as if he was asking for a cuddle.
‘Arlo?’
‘My youngest nephew. Siena’s first baby. Adrianna’s pregnant again now. She’ll be having her third, after a bit of a gap after the twins. I’ll bet that will make Allegra jealous so I expect there’ll be a new addition to her family soon as well.’
‘How many nephews and nieces have you got?’
Matteo squinted as he concentrated and Georgia lost count as Italian names tumbled from his lips. He was scrolling through the photos on his phone at the same time. He leaned back on the couch for a moment in silence and Georgia watched the expression on his face change. His grin faded into something far more poignant and then he actually sniffed and rubbed at his forehead as if fighting back tears.
‘What?’ Georgia asked quietly.
‘It’s a video. My nieces—Mita and Lia. It was their third birthday last year.’
He tapped the arrow on the centre of the screen as he tilted it towards her. The sound of giggles filled the room. Two identical small girls wearing frilly white dresses, with flowers in their hair, were climbing all over a man who was lying on the grass.
Matteo. He was laughing, too, as he scooped a child under each arm and sat up, kissing first one girl and then the other. One of the twins wriggled free and reached into the grass to pluck a daisy, which she triumphantly presented to her uncle.
‘Grazie mille, tesoro. Ti amo...’
The words didn’t need any translation. That expression on Matteo’s face was tearing at a part of Georgia’s heart.
‘You really love kids, don’t you?’ she murmured, as the video ended.
‘Of course. They are the most important thing in the world. I ask for nothing more than to have the gift of my own family one day.’ Matteo’s smile was still poignant. ‘No. I want more than that. I want to live to be a grandfather so that I don’t leave my family with the sadness that we have.’
‘You lost your father?’
‘Many years ago. But I miss him every day.’
‘And your mother?’
‘My mama—Teresa Martini—is the proudest grandmother on the face of the earth. She welcomes every new baby as if it’s the greatest gift possible. And she moves in with each of my sisters, every time. For at least a month after the birth.’ Matteo’s gaze was sombre. ‘I’m sad that you don’t have your mother to help you. It’s a time when family comes together. Not just to celebrate but to make life easier.’ He was frowning now. ‘How will you manage, Georgie?’
She swallowed hard. ‘I’ll manage.’
‘You must miss your mother so much.’
Georgia nodded slowly. As the birth of her babies drew closer she was missing that rock in her life more and more every day. She had to press her lips tightly together to cope with a stab of loss that was the biggest yet but she could still feel them tremble.
Only for a heartbeat, but Matteo must have seen her reaction because he lifted his hand and touched her lips with the pad of his thumb, his fingers cupping her cheek and jaw.
It was the most exquisitely tender gesture. In no way sexual but the response of her body and her heart had a kick that was far more powerful.
This...this felt like real love.
The kind that could last a lifetime?
‘It’s not long now, is it?’
‘Um...no...’ Her brain was too tired to try and do the maths that would keep her story straight but if she was a month more pregnant than she really was—as she’d allowed him to believe—that would mean she was due...
Oh, help...next week?
Was Matteo going to push her for an actual date?
No. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was staring at her belly. Looking down, Georgia realised why. She was so used to the rippling sensations of her babies moving within her that she’d almost forgotten how extraordinary it was to see that movement as well as feel it.
She had long ago given up trying to wear anything like uniform pants. She had some comfortable maternity jeans on today, with the silky, stretch fabric of the insert a thin layer under the uniform polo shirt. A shirt that was visibly moving at the moment.
A look of something like reverence claimed Matteo’s features and his gaze, when it captured hers, was the most intense she’d ever seen it.
‘May I?’ he asked softly.
It was impossible not to grant permission with the spell that that look was putting her under, but Georgia had to close her eyes as she felt the gentle weight of his hand outstretched on her belly.
Her skin was aware of the pressure on both sides. Her babies beneath and Matteo’s hand on top.
Their fa
ther’s hand.
It was too much. Too wrong...
He had to know the truth, didn’t he?
She turned, tilting her head upwards to catch his gaze, her lips parting ready to release the words he had to hear.
But Matteo’s head was closer than she’d realised. He had tears in his eyes as his gaze locked with hers.
And it took only the smallest movement for his lips to make contact with her own.
A brief, soft kiss. As tender as that touch of his fingers on her face had been.
She could feel his breath on her skin when they finally broke that kiss and his words were no more than a sigh.
‘Ti amo, tesoro mio.’
Again, the words needed no translation. His eyes were telling her exactly what he’d whispered but maybe he hadn’t intended her to understand them. Or even realise that they’d been audible.
How could she could tell him the truth now? If she said anything at all, it was more likely to be that she loved him as well.
And how could she say that when he didn’t know the truth?
It was wrong, too.
Everything about this situation was so wrong. Perfect but twisted. And Georgia had no idea how to fix it.
Something of her dilemma must have shown on her face but Matteo didn’t seem to be bothered. He was smiling at her.
‘I excuse you the dishes,’ he told her. ‘Go to bed, cara. You’re exhausted, yes?’
Georgia nodded. She swallowed hard.
‘Thanks, Matteo.’
‘For what? The food?’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘It was nothing.’
‘It wasn’t nothing. It was...perfect.’
He was moving now. Collecting the empty plates as if this was just a part of a normal, everyday life.
‘I’m glad you liked it. We’ll do it again. We have plenty of time before I have to go back to Luke’s apartment.’
Finally, Georgia could return the smile.
Plenty of time...
That was something else her mother used to say, too.
There’s plenty of time, love.
Give it time...it’ll be okay.
Time heals everything...
There was comfort to be found in those echoes of her mother’s voice.
Hope, even.
* * *
Teresa Martini’s lasagne had been a favourite for Matteo for as long as he could remember but it had just become even more significant in his life.
He’d taken a huge step towards his goal tonight.
He had been permitted to show Georgia a part of how he felt about her. The food he’d made for her hadn’t been rejected. He’d been allowed to share the miracle of feeling the new life stirring within her.
He’d kissed her even. A kiss of nothing more than tenderness because anything else at this point in time was unthinkable.
And even though nothing had been said aloud, he was quite certain that she had felt the same as he had—the profound depth of the connection between them. That she was thinking exactly what he was.
That she was in love...
It was enough of a declaration for now. He wasn’t going to scare her again by trying to force something on her that she wasn’t ready for.
Like too much of his company.
Or too much touching.
Or something stupid like offering to marry her again.
It was hard. Possibly the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he could take this slowly.
He could wait.
Until Georgia showed him that she was ready for more.
CHAPTER TEN
‘THEY’LL BE THERE by now.’
‘I know. Are you okay?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Georgia picked up the pot Matteo had just put onto the draining board and started to dry it.
Matteo was scrubbing the next pot. ‘There were a lot of tears at the airport yesterday. From Kate, anyway.’ An eyebrow quirked in her direction. ‘You are much tougher, I think.’
Georgia shrugged, her gaze sliding away from his. ‘I just don’t cry.’
‘What...never? I have five sisters and a mother who cry all the time. I cry sometimes. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
Yes. She could remember the times she had seen tears glinting in his eyes. Happy tears that were evoked by tapping into the enormous love he had for his family.
He had an infinite capacity for love, this man, didn’t he?
When he’d had his hand on her belly that night, she could imagine that he was already feeling that love for a child that he still had no idea he had a close connection with.
There it was again.
That pressure.
The feeling that the account in the bank of time she’d believed she had was rapidly draining.
‘Just because I don’t cry on the outside doesn’t mean I don’t feel things. And Kate was upset that she couldn’t be here to be my birth partner. She said that she’d tried to delay the start of her new job but just couldn’t make it work when we can’t be sure of an exact date.’
‘It can’t be far away.’ Matteo’s head turned again. ‘Look how far back you have to stand from the bench.’
‘I know. I won’t be able to reach the steering wheel of my car soon because my arms won’t be long enough. Just as well I’m allowed to work from home until I start my maternity leave officially.’
‘That decides it, then.’
‘Decides what?’ Georgia could feel her eyes widening. Oh, help...the pressure had just kicked up another notch. How had she become so used to the luxury of thinking she had plenty of time to pick the right moment to tell Matteo what he had to know? Relaxing enough to find an excuse every time anything like an opportunity presented itself because she couldn’t figure out a way of softening the shock by giving him some kind of a warning.
Opportunities like now, when they were sharing such a domestic task like washing dishes. When they were becoming so at ease with each other’s company. Matteo had said he would never force himself on her and he’d proved that his word was his bond in the last couple of weeks. He’d been nothing more than a perfect flatmate.
A friend.
But that tone in his voice suggested something was about to change.
‘I can’t move back to Luke’s apartment.’
‘Oh?’ It wasn’t that Georgia wanted him to move out but the decisiveness of this statement was a little disturbing. What if he simply decided he had no intention of moving out of her life, full stop?
That was a battle she might not want to win. It could well be only wishful thinking but the idea of having Matteo in her life for ever had a glow of being as close to perfect as anything could get.
‘Not yet, anyway. Not when you’ll need someone to drive your car. To get groceries, for example.’
‘I can order online. They deliver these days, you know.’
Matteo scowled at her. ‘You might need to go to the hospital.’
A flutter of something like panic was trying to make itself felt. It wouldn’t be perfect to have Matteo here for ever. Arguing with every decision she tried to make.
Taking control...
‘I have a phone.’ Her voice tightened. ‘I could call you.’
‘You might need to go in a hurry.’
Muscles in Georgia’s jaw tightened. ‘I can call an ambulance. I know a few people who work there and they’d get here pretty fast.’
‘You want me to move out?’
If she said yes, would he pack his bag and leave instantly?
She wasn’t ready for that. If he left, it would be even easier to avoid finding the right moment to tell him.
‘Um...’ Georgia bit her lip. This was getting onto dangerous territory. Her mind was spinning.
There was a soft chant as bac
kground to the conflicting thoughts.
Tell him...tell him...tell him...
‘Ah...maybe not quite yet. There won’t be much room when the...when the...’
‘Baby arrives. I get it.’
But he didn’t get it. Georgia had slammed on the mental brakes when the word ‘babies’ had been about to emerge. She’d sworn Kate to secrecy about that, on the grounds that she wanted to surprise everyone she knew. It was gratifying to know that she hadn’t even told Luke. Or maybe she had. Maybe guys didn’t pass on that sort of information because it wasn’t interesting enough.
The moment he knew she was carrying twins, the game would be over. He’d know that she was bigger than expected for dates and that her pregnancy wasn’t nearly as advanced as she’d let him assume. It would force the truth to come out.
‘When is it due?’
‘You never know with first babies.’
The response was evasive. Despite trying to make that chant go away by giving in to it, something was overriding her determination and making it impossible.
‘They’re rarely on time,’ she added, a little desperately, ‘and usually late.’
She hurriedly poked the last pot lid into the cupboard and then reached for the drainer to stand it upright at the end of the bench. But Matteo was reaching for it as well and his hand caught her wrist.
‘I need to know,’ he said quietly. ‘My mother and sisters are putting pressure on for me to go home for a few days. My work schedule will allow it in a couple of weeks but that could be just the wrong time. I want to be here for you.’ He was making circles on her wrist with his thumb. ‘I could be your birth partner instead of Kate if you like.’
The sensation of those circles on her skin was travelling up Georgia’s arm like wildfire, obliterating every other thought that was still spinning. Up her arm, through her chest and straight down to an area low in her belly. It felt odd to experience a bolt of pure desire like this. Did pregnant woman still have sex when they were the size of a small elephant?
Would anyone other than the father of the baby even want to?
And, if he did, how exactly did they make it work?
She closed her eyes on a long blink as that thought pushed the others away. She might know a way...
Twin Surprise for the Italian Doc Page 12