Bought with His Name & the Sicilian's Bought Bride

by Penny Jordan

  ‘When?’

  She shook her head, too raw to contemplate a future when she could see Rico without breaking down, share in her niece’s birthdays and milestones without dying a little inside for all she had lost.

  ‘I don’t know, Rico.’ She stared up at him, this haughty, brooding man she had loved—yes, loved—from the second she had laid eyes on him. A difficult, complicated man who simply couldn’t lower his guard, a man with a brilliant mind who couldn’t get his head around something as simple as love, and the distance between them, the safety of the front door open in her hands gave her the strength to finally speak the truth. ‘You were right to be suspicious of Antonia, Rico, and you were right about Janey. But you were so very wrong about me. I never wanted this house, Rico, never wanted the servants or the cars. I love you. The only thing I wanted out of this marriage was you, and it was the one thing you weren’t prepared to give, the one thing that wasn’t up for negotiation. Well, I can’t do it—I can’t live in a marriage that looks good on paper; I can’t survive in a marriage without love.’

  ‘Catherine, please!’ He was bounding down the stairs three and four at a time, taking the impressive stairwell in barely a stride, but she was too quick for him, slipping out of the heavy door like a thief in the night and then slamming it closed.

  He didn’t follow.

  She’d never really expected him to.

  It had all just been a game.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EXHAUSTION, grief, pain—they had no meaning now. It was as if she had somehow passed through a barrier and come out the other side, numb, almost without emotion, as if Rico had wrung every last drop out of her and left her with a curious void that must surely be her life now—an empty, dark abyss where her heart and her spirit used to reside.

  She drove aimlessly, taking the beach road from the city and heading along the horseshoe of Port Phillip Bay, watching the still, inky water. The same moon that had drifted past her window was like a glitter ball above the water, and the stars danced around, inviting her to step out and take in their grandeur, but for a while she ignored the call, driving with more purpose. Her journey had meaning now, and she acknowledged the magnet that had drawn her here. The grief that had never really been explored was a festering wound that needed to be lanced if ever she were to find peace…

  Pulling her car in amongst the tea trees, she gazed at the tombstones silhouetted in the moonlight, then wandered through the stony paths till she came to the soft mound of earth that was Janey’s. The funeral flowers had long since died, but a fresh sprig lay on top, beautiful in its simplicity, and sinking to her knees she fingered the warm soil, ran her fingers along the petals of the flowers. She pulled the card out and read it, and her heart seemed to split in two.

  Sleep peacefully

  We will do our best for Lily

  Rico and Catherine.

  The fact he had been there, that the detached, distant Rico had been to Janey’s grave, blurred the edges of her reality. He had spoken on behalf of them both, signed her name, promising to do their best for a child left alone, and it tore at her very being.

  The tears that had always been there were given permission to fall then, and she sobbed into the lonely darkness, her wails guttural, primitive as she wept for the beautiful sister she had lost, the sister taken too soon, wept for the parents she would always miss and for the baby she would never hold.

  She cried for Rico too.

  For the man who had danced in her dreams, who had allowed her to glimpse all he could be, if only for a fleeting time—the man who had held her, loved her, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself.

  A man she would mourn now for ever.

  ‘Let it out, Catherine.’

  For a second she stilled, frozen for a moment in time as Rico knelt beside her.

  ‘Leave me,’ she sobbed, but Rico as usual ignored her, instead wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace as she struggled like a cat. ‘Leave me,’ she pleaded again, but she felt him shake his head, and the vice of his grip was curiously comforting, something to hold onto as tears again took over.

  ‘Let it out, Catherine,’ he said again, and suddenly the whys didn’t matter. Rico was here, and as she wept his arms were around her, holding her, almost an extension of her own body, a rock to lean on. And however temporary, however ill-fated their union, for a moment or two she allowed herself to cling to him, not strong enough to face this moment alone.

  ‘Janey loved you.’ He was trying to comfort her, trying to say the right thing, but his words only fuelled her pain, only widened the abyss of her loss.

  ‘She hated me—how can I look after her daughter when she hated me?’ Catherine gulped. ‘It’s time I faced the truth.’

  ‘Is it?’ His question forced her attention. Her shimmering eyes flicked up to his, and her sobs gave way to gentle hiccoughs as he stared back at her. ‘Tonight I found out the truth, Catherine. Tonight I found out what really happened to Janey and Marco—that is why I didn’t come to you. I truly thought you were too weak to hear it, that now wasn’t the time.’ He took a deep breath, and for a second so small it was barely there she swore she registered tears glistening in the dark pools of his eyes, swore that for once in his life emotion truly had the better of him. ‘It wasn’t easy to hear, Catherine, but it is something you need to know, whenever you are ready.’

  Summoning strength, she stared bravely back at him. ‘I’m ready.’

  ‘Not here.’ Standing, he pulled her up, led her out from the graveyard, across the deserted street. They wandered through the bracken till she felt the cool crunch of stones beneath her sandals. She gazed out at the water before sitting down on the cool ground and staring up at the stars. He wrapped his jacket around her, his eyes narrowing in concern as he felt her frozen pale cheeks.

  ‘It is too cold here, Catherine. You are not well; you should be at home…’ His voice trailed off, the word ‘home’ had been placed out of bounds by Catherine, and as much as it tore him he had to respect that.

  ‘I can’t go back, Rico.’

  He nodded, staring at her for a moment, clearly desperate to take her in his arms, to tell her the truths that needed to come out, but her pallor concerned him.

  ‘We could sit in the car; I could put the heater on.’

  A tiny shift of her head told him he was wasting his breath.

  ‘Wait there.’

  She didn’t respond, just stared into the twinkling sky as Rico wandered over the beach, gathering driftwood. Her tears had left her exhausted—spent, but curiously detached. It had been cathartic cleansing so deep she felt almost void of emotion now, as if nothing more could hurt her, nothing more could touch her.

  He knelt close by, parting the stones and filling them with driftwood, lighting the leaves and fanning the tiny flames until the wood caught. And still she said nothing, just gazed into the firelight, mesmerised by its beauty. The hint of eucalyptus as the flames licked the heavy logs was comforting somehow, and the heat from the fire warmed her chilled bones as Rico sat beside her.

  ‘They weren’t drinking, Catherine.’ His words were soft, but very measured. ‘And they hadn’t been taking any drugs. As I was seeing Antonia out Dr Sellers came back. We both spoke to him; he took us through the post mortem results.’

  ‘But Marco staggered out of the restaurant; the doorman said he was so drunk he could barely speak…’

  ‘He had a stroke.’

  A gasp escaped her lips, a strangled gasp and her hands shot down and held her cheeks. Her mouth opened and shallow breaths came out in a grief so raw, so painful she was sure the scream that resonated around her head must be audible.

  ‘Marco had a stroke—that’s why he lost control of the car, that’s why everyone assumed he had been drinking. And the saddest part of it is they were actually out celebrating—celebrating the fact they were going to get their lives on track.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’

&nb
sp; ‘I spoke with Jessica; when she returned from the shops we had a long talk. I think she was waiting for me to ask.’

  ‘She probably was,’ Catherine admitted. ‘She’s been trying to talk to me about it, but I kept pushing her away.’

  ‘You should have listened,’ Rico scolded softly. ‘We both should have listened. Janey loved you, Catherine. She told Jessica that you had both been right to say something, that you in particular had always been right, that she was living life too fast and too dangerously and it was time to slow down. She said she knew it was time to grow up, to take a leaf out of your book and face up to her responsibilities. She was proud of you, Catherine; she wanted to be like you. You should talk to Jessica also,’ he added. ‘I think it might help you.’

  Catherine nodded, staring into the flickering fire for a pensive moment, then turning back to Rico as he carried on talking. ‘Jessica gave me some home movies—videos they had taken…’ He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and she could feel his hesitation. His usual reserve was battling to take over, but he fought it, dragging his eyes back to her as if she was what he needed to continue. ‘I prepared myself for the worst when I put them on—a drunken party, perhaps, Lily crying in a corner…I’ve no idea what I expected to see, but never in a million years could I have envisaged the love I witnessed.’

  ‘Love?’

  She was sure she must have misheard him, somehow misinterpreted the simple yet intricate word, but Rico nodded slowly, that beautiful full mouth wavering slightly as emotion betrayed his usually steady voice. ‘They loved each other, Catherine. To anyone else it would have been the most boring home movie ever, but there they were, cooing not just over Lily, but each other. And, as blind as I might appear in matters of the heart, their love was obvious.’

  ‘So why did she say those terrible things?’ Catherine asked.

  ‘Maybe it was safer for her to believe them?’ Rico suggested gently, taking in the tiny frown that puckered her brow, those delicious brown eyes blinking at the brilliance of new perception. ‘Maybe in that messed-up head of Janey’s it was easier to convince herself she was in control of her own emotions? Maybe she loved Marco so much that she did trap him, did everything in her power to ensure he married her? I don’t know all the answers, Catherine, but one look at the video and you will be convinced also.’

  ‘We can play it for Lily.’ Her words were a whisper as bittersweet relief flooded her veins, because something had finally been salvaged from the wreckage, because Lily would have some precious memories to cling to of parents who had, it seemed, loved her after all.

  ‘You can play it for Lily,’ Rico corrected softly. ‘Catherine, I love Lily, but despite your doubts, despite how hard it has been for you, I know in my heart you are the best person for her. You will be a wonderful mother.’ His hand dusted down over her stomach, held the hollow where there should have been their child, and it was Rico’s tears she witnessed now, with pain, pride, agony etched in each proud tear that scraped the razor of his cheekbones. ‘You would have been a wonderful mother to this one too.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rico. Maybe I did do too much. Maybe going back to work after all I’d been through was just—’

  ‘Hush.’ He placed a finger to her lips. ‘Don’t do that to yourself. I never blamed you, Catherine, not even for a moment,’ he whispered. ‘I blame myself.’

  ‘But why?’ Catherine begged, her mind in turmoil. Seeing Rico, usually so strong, so utterly self-righteous, plagued by doubt, seeing this proud, dignified man in such pain, tore at her very being. The pain they had unwittingly inflicted on each other was almost more than she could bear. ‘How could it be your fault?’

  ‘Because when I found out you were carrying my child I was pleased for all the wrong reasons. I wanted you to be pregnant, Catherine—wanted you to be having my child. Not because I wanted another baby, but because I wanted you! But seeing your pain, hearing Antonia talk, it hit me just what we had lost. Our baby, Catherine. Our child. It was only then I realised how much I’d wanted it too.’

  And though she ached to comfort him, to say the right thing, her mind stalled on the middle of his heartfelt speech, the rest of the words a blur as those three little words hit home.

  ‘You wanted me?’ Her voice was incredulous and she quickly fought to check it—scared, so scared, of raising her hopes only to have them dashed again; sure, so sure, she must somehow have misheard him, misunderstood. But those dark eyes were staring back at her unwavering, with love blazing brighter than the fire that warmed them.

  ‘I’ve always wanted you,’ Rico said slowly. ‘I’ve always needed you. You changed my world, Catherine, made me open my eyes and see things from your wonderful perspective. You see the good in people,’ he explained gently. ‘You hang on in there despite the punches and somehow you find the best in everyone—even me. Tonight, when you told me you loved me, I wanted so badly to tell you I loved you too—to take you in my arms and weep with you for our baby…’

  ‘You got here in the end.’ Catherine smiled bravely, but when he shook his head and the shutters came down again she felt her heart split in two.

  ‘It is too late for us, Catherine.’

  ‘No!’ Her shout was instantaneous, a furious yet heartfelt reaction; to be so near, to have got so close only for him to pull back, was more than she could take.

  ‘Don’t you dare hold back on me now, Rico. Don’t you dare give with one hand and then take with the other. How can you say you love me, you need me, and then just shut me out?’

  ‘Because as you said before, Catherine, you should be loved as you deserve to be loved, and I cannot promise you that. My mother died young, my brother also. Dr Sellers wants me to have tests; he says it may be hereditary, that there is a chance it could happen to me also. I cannot put Lily through another loss, and I will not put you through it either. How can I stay when I don’t know if I can promise you a future? How can I be the husband you deserve when I don’t know how many tomorrows there will be?’

  ‘And how can you not?’

  There was a simplicity to her question, clarity that cleared the littered way for him.

  ‘Rico, there are no guarantees in life; we’ve both learnt that the hard way. But if you love me as much as I love you then there can be no question of you walking away, no question of you dealing with this alone. I’d rather face the rest of my life without you, knowing I had one tiny slice when you were truly mine, than face a world without you ever having loved me at all.’

  ‘I’ve always loved you, Catherine…’ She heard his pause, knew there was more to come, but she shook her head and this time it was her finger hushing him with the softest of touches.

  There was nothing left to qualify.

  No words were needed now.

  Love would see them through.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘I REALLY don’t think you have anything to worry about. I know the books say that at this age toddlers can be very jealous of a new baby, but you must remember that Lily’s very advanced.’

  Antonia’s voice carried across the veranda table and Catherine smothered a smile as Rico caught her eye.

  ‘She is,’ Antonia insisted. ‘Anyway, we’ll make sure she doesn’t have a moment alone to feel jealous. Your father and I can hardly wait to have her stay with us.’ She shot a rather impatient look across the table and this time Catherine didn’t try to smother her smile; in fact, she threw her head back and laughed.

  ‘I’m not due for another two weeks yet, Antonia. And, given the fact that first babies often come late, you might be in for a wait before Lily comes and stays with you.’

  Selecting a strawberry from the fruit platter, Catherine bit into it, enjoying the sweet ripe taste, enjoying this lazy Saturday afternoon with her family by her side and a glimpse of the exciting times that lay ahead, and trying not to spoil this precious time with the pensive mood that had taken her today.

  ‘Maybe Lily should have a trial run?’ Ri
co’s voice was so casual, his stance so nonchalant anyone else would have missed the meaning behind his words, and Catherine’s eyes darted nervously to Antonia, watching the older woman’s reaction as Rico’s words hit home. ‘Maybe she should go home with you both tonight?’

  ‘You mean it?’ Antonia didn’t wait for an answer, scooping Lily up in her arms, ordering Carlos to load the car and showering her beloved granddaughter with kisses as Catherine packed an overnight bag. She slipped in a couple of bedtime stories for Carlos to read to her, albeit slowly. But Three Little Ducks was somehow so much more romantic with a Sicilian accent, and Lily was eternally patient, delighting in her doting grandfather’s efforts, the perfect audience as he falteringly discovered the joy of reading.

  ‘You’ve made their day.’ Catherine sighed as they waved them off, leaning back on Rico, resting her head against his chest as his hands cupped her swollen stomach.

  ‘It’s the right thing to do,’ Rico murmured, more to himself than to Catherine. ‘Anyway, I had an ulterior motive. Do you realise this is probably our last night alone for a very, very long time?’

  ‘Night feeds, dirty nappies.’ Catherine sighed again. ‘Are you sure you’re ready to do it all again?’

  ‘More than ready,’ Rico affirmed. ‘Aren’t you?’

  She was! Oh, for a while she’d been scared to glimpse the future. Rico’s multitude of tests had consumed them, brave words no barrier against fear, but they had faced it together. Dark times were so much easier shared, and the blessed relief of a clean bill of health was so much sweeter with a family beside you.

  ‘I’m ready, Rico.’ She nestled against him, forcing herself to continue, forcing herself to share what was in her mind, as they had promised each other they would—only Rico got there first.

  ‘Just not today, huh?’