"Come here, sweetie, and let Papa sit up." Claire pulled the wriggling bundle of sharp knees and elbows into her arms and kissed the soft, fragrant curls on the top of her head. How she loved Violet's baby smell, her sweet voice, and her boundless energy.
Over the last few weeks, it wasn't just Leo who had stolen her heart; Violet had worked her way in there as well.
Unable to remain still, Violet hugged for a moment, then struggled to get off the bed. "Come on, hurry up."
"The presents La Befana has left you will still be there later on." The teasing note in Leo's voice brought a smile to Claire's lips.
"Oh, Papa." Violet huffed and bounced on her toes, her excitement almost too much to contain.
"We're coming, sweetie." Claire climbed out of bed and quickly washed her face to wake herself up before slipping on her dressing gown.
Leo did the same, then they both followed Violet into the hall. She dashed up to Gina's door and slapped both palms on the wood. "Wake up, Zia Gina. La Befana has called."
"Violet, no!" Leo dashed after her but she scampered ahead of him and banged on Savino's door. Leo caught the little rascal up in his arms before she reached his parents' room.
"It's too early to wake everyone else. Especially Nonna and Nonno. They'll see your presents later."
Gina appeared at her door, blinking owlishly. "Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be down."
Violet clapped her hands with glee, and Leo shook his head.
Then Savino's door opened and he emerged in a dark blue silk dressing gown, a smile on his face, looking suave and wide awake. "I can't miss this."
Violet wriggled down out of Leo's arms and ran to her uncle. She grabbed his hand and towed him towards the top of the stairs. "Come on, Zio Savi. We'll get there first."
Savino switched on the lights, and they all trailed down the stairs and along the hallway to the family room.
Leo lit the strings of lights on the presepe and over the fireplace to cast the room in a magical glow.
Gina joined them and held up her phone to snap photos as Violet dashed across the room to a huge bulging stocking beside the fireplace.
"Look at mine. It's the biggest."
"So it is," Leo said, pretending surprise. He glanced at Claire and they shared a secret smile.
Leo had waited until past midnight before he filled Violet's stocking with presents last night. Claire had held the stocking open while he deposited the mountain of gifts inside, including the monkey she had bought for Violet in San Gregorio Armeno when they visited the presepe stalls before Christmas.
They all sat around Violet on the squashy white leather chairs, laughing as she pulled out presents and tore the wrapping off them.
After Violet dug out the last lump of striped candy from the toe of her stocking, Leo rose and gathered the discarded scraps of paper into a bundle and stuffed them in a trash bag.
Then he unhooked a small red stocking decorated with a picture of La Befana on her broomstick from the side of the fireplace. "This is for you, Claire."
"Gosh." She put her hand to her chest. She hadn't expected a stocking of her own. "I'll open it later with the rest of you."
"Do it now. Please."
Leo laid the stocking across her knees, then lowered himself to the floor at her feet.
Claire glanced at Savino and Gina self-consciously. There was something going on here that she didn't quite understand.
Gina grinned broadly and curled her feet beneath her, turning to watch Claire while Savino seemed to be occupied with Violet on his lap, helping her color in a picture on a children's tablet device.
"Okay, then. Thank you."
As she reached into the stocking and pulled out colorfully wrapped pieces of candy, nuts, and dried fruit, Leo leaned his cheek against her knee and smiled as he watched. She melted inside, her heart overflowing with love for this wonderful man who'd quickly become the center of her world.
In a few short weeks, he'd transformed her life from one of angst and fear to happiness and joy. She didn't ever remember a time when she'd felt this relaxed and secure.
Her fingers found something hard. She pulled out a small box, beautifully wrapped in silver and gold. "This is so neat, someone must have wrapped it for you," she quipped, butterflies fluttering in her belly. This was the size and shape of a ring box, but it couldn't be.
"Go on." Leo kissed her knee, a twinkle of anticipation in his dark eyes.
Everyone in the room had fallen silent. Even Violet had stilled to watch.
Her heart thumping, Claire pulled off the paper to reveal a blue leather box with a gold shield symbol on the top. She opened the lid and her breath caught in her chest.
She pressed a hand over her mouth and tears of happiness filled her eyes. A stunning diamond and sapphire ring glinted in the lights of the presepe as if catching some of their magic.
Gently, Leo took the box from her trembling fingers and pulled out the ring. He rose to his knees and took her left hand in his. "Claire Chadwick, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
"Yes." Claire's heart beat so fast she could hardly speak, and the word came out as little more than a whisper.
Leo pushed the ring onto her finger and rose to take her in his arms. She held him tightly, falling into the kiss, her last fear of what was waiting for her at home in England slipping away as this wonderful man held her safely in his arms.
She would never have to worry about Jonathan again. He couldn't hurt her anymore. Now she had Leo by her side forever.
Gina squealed and rushed over. "Congratulations. Let me see." She held Claire's hand to examine the ring. "Beautiful, and it suits you so well. My brother is a true romantic." She kissed Leo on the cheek.
Savino joined them, kissed Claire's cheek, and embraced Leo.
Violet wormed her way between the people and climbed onto Claire's lap to press her tiny fingers on the engagement ring. "This is pretty. Can I have one?"
Everyone laughed as Violet looked up, eyes wide and uncomprehending.
"This is an engagement ring, piccolina. It means Claire is going to marry me and then she'll be your mamma."
Violet grinned and wrapped her arms around Claire's neck. "Can I call you Mamma now?"
Joy sang through Claire as she held this dear little girl close. "I'd love that if your papa agrees."
"Of course Papa agrees." Leo enfolded them both in his arms and kissed their cheeks.
"Are you going to look in your stocking to see what La Befana brought you, Papa?"
"I don't need a stocking, angel. You and your new mamma are the best gifts in the world. I don't need anything else but the two of you."
Epilogue
Claire sat in the back of a white limousine as it wound its way through the narrow streets to the church on the top of a hill overlooking Naples. Diaphanous streaks of cloud decorated the azure-blue sky, and the sun sparkled off the rippling water in Naples Bay.
The last few months had been hectic as she and Leo arranged their wedding. Now the day was finally here. Her mother and father had flown over from England with her other relatives and were staying in a luxurious hotel not far from Leo's home.
A light breeze flowed in the open car window, stirring the sprigs of white jasmine in her bouquet. Claire drew in a breath of the sweet fragrance and released it slowly, trying to relax, but it was difficult when she was alone in the car with her father. He wasn't one for pleasant small talk, and today he seemed restless.
He cleared his throat. "Claire, I'm sorry your mother and I didn't see Jonathan in his true light. He deceived us."
The apology took Claire by surprise. She knew Leo had taken her father aside and explained how badly Jonathan had behaved when he followed her to Italy, but she hadn't expected her father to say anything to her about it.
Emotion tightened her chest. It had hurt so much when her mum and dad discounted her complaints about Jonathan, but she didn't want to dwell on that today—her wedding day. N
o, Jonathan and all the trouble he'd caused belonged in the past.
"Thank you," she said. "You weren't the only ones he fooled. He was clever at manipulating people."
The car rounded a bend in the road, and the yellow brickwork on the outside of the Gothic church glowed gold in the sun. The limousine pulled up at the bottom of the stone steps that led to the entrance. The driver came around to open the door for Claire. She stepped out, gathering the gauzy folds of chiffon that cascaded from the single jeweled shoulder strap of her Roman-style wedding dress.
Her father offered his hand and helped her out.
"Thank you," she whispered, suddenly overcome by the way he gripped her fingers gently and steadied her.
Her mother stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek. "You look lovely, Claire. And your young man is such a gentleman." She adjusted Claire's veil, then with a smile she stepped back to make way for Gina, who was babbling in Italian to some guests as she shooed them up the steps to find their seats.
Stunning in lemon-yellow silk with a yellow rose in her dark hair, Gina adjusted the way Claire's dress fell from the jeweled belt and stood back to admire her.
"Oh my. You look beautiful. This style was such a good choice for you."
Claire touched a hand to the neckline of her toga-inspired dress. She'd commissioned it specially based on ancient Roman designs. The magic in the air at Pompeii had tempted her to first kiss Leo, and she wanted to summon that magic on her wedding day.
Violet skipped around holding hands with Clara Rossellini, Leo's little niece who was two months younger than his daughter. Both girls looked adorable in their lemon-colored dresses with matching hair ribbons in their dark wavy hair.
"Come here, girls," Gina said. "Stand behind Claire." She gave each child a jasmine posy. They both sniffed their flowers and chattered together, slipping seamlessly between Italian and English.
Claire focused on the church door, breathed slowly to calm her fluttering nerves, and relaxed. She smiled when Gina pronounced her ready and stepped behind her, supervising the two tiny bridesmaids.
"All set, then?" Her father smiled. "Your mother was right. You look very pretty today. Leo is a lucky man to be marrying my daughter."
"Thank you, Dad." Warmed by her father's compliment and the heat from the blazing Italian sun, Claire rested her hand on her father's arm. They mounted the steps and walked sedately into the church.
Claire had visited the historic building a number of times now, but the beauty of the place, with its sculpted marble statues and Renaissance paintings, still stole her breath.
Only her closest relatives were here, but Leo's family filled the church. When they sent out the invitations, she couldn't believe how many relations he had.
Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the dark interior of the old building as she turned down the aisle and searched the faces at the front for Leo. Then she saw him, so handsome in his dark suit with Savino at his side, grinning.
Leo held out his hand to her, and she hurried the last few steps to slide her fingers into his. At his touch, her fluttering nerves settled, and a sense of calm and peace filled her.
The priest conducted the wedding ceremony in Italian. Claire and Leo both spoke their vows and slipped wedding rings on each other's fingers. Then Leo drew her into his arms and kissed her.
Leo put his lips to her ear. "Ti amo. I love you."
"I love you too, Leo. So much." Claire looped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, momentarily forgetting they were standing in front of the priest with all their family members looking on.
"Kiss me too, Mamma." Violet pulled on Claire's arm, reminding her where she was.
Leo chuckled as Claire bent to hug and kiss their little girl. With Violet holding her hand, she slipped her arm through Leo's, and the three of them made their way back down the aisle to the sound of Leo's cousin Dino Rossellini singing.
Claire had come to Italy to escape Jonathan and make something more of her life. She'd thought she would do that through her travel website, but she had no interest in traveling anywhere without Leo. What she'd really been searching for was love and acceptance, and she'd found that right here in his arms.
All she needed was Leo and Violet, and she would be happy forever.
Italian Christmas Baby
Chapter One
Emily Trevathan had everything prepared for the birth of her baby in four weeks. Her Cornish cottage was full of baby equipment, and a newborn-sized car seat was already strapped into the back of her car. With enough money saved so she wouldn't have to take any translation jobs for a while after the birth, she planned to devote herself to her baby. The only thing she hadn't done was tell the father.
She stared out the back window of the taxi at banners advertising Future Tech Convention. All along the road from the station to the convention center, the light poles were decorated with futuristic images of robots, space vehicles, and other tech stuff.
The taxi peeled away from the line of traffic heading for the car park and stopped in the drop-off zone outside the convention center just outside London. Emily paid the driver and pushed open her door. Finally the time had come; she couldn't put it off any longer.
Savino Marin was a big shot in the world of robotics and a keynote speaker at the convention. He was also about to become a father, although he didn't know that yet—and she had no idea what his reaction would be.
Right up until he'd walked away from her eight months ago, she'd believed he was a nice guy. Their whirlwind affair had only lasted three weeks, but she'd fallen truly, madly, deeply in love with him and thought she'd met her soul mate. From the passionate, devoted way he'd behaved, she'd assumed he felt the same. It just showed one should never assume anything.
Emily stepped out of the taxi, pressed her palms to the small of her back, and stretched. Her auntie Bea said pregnancy suited her and she glowed. She'd certainly felt well and enjoyed the experience so far. Apart from a little backache and weariness during the last few weeks, and needing to use the bathroom every thirty minutes, she felt fine.
The bitter bite of the December wind urged her forward to join the people heading through the row of glass doors into the massive convention center. She handed over her credit card and held out her arm for the paper wristband that showed she'd paid.
Trying not to waddle, she hitched her bag strap on her shoulder and headed for the ladies' facilities. Once she'd relieved herself, she brushed her windblown hair and added a fresh coat of lipstick. She might be the size of a hippopotamus, but she still wanted to look her best when she faced Savino.
"Savi," she whispered, her chest suddenly tight with pain as the reality of what she was about to do hit her. Heart pounding, she gripped the sink and pulled in a deep breath, trying to stay calm. She kept telling herself she'd moved on and she didn't care about him anymore. But he'd hurt her so much. How would she cope with seeing him again?
When she'd first found out she was pregnant, she'd been too raw and heartbroken to contact him. As the months passed, good sense won out and she'd accepted he had a right to know. More importantly, she would not deprive her baby boy of his daddy. She just hoped Savino would want to know his son.
Gathering her composure, she checked the floor plan in the program to find the route to the main auditorium where Savino was scheduled to speak.
After leaving the bathroom, Emily joined the throng of people tramping along the aisles between the booths, her hand resting protectively on her baby bump. She tried to rehearse in her mind what she planned to say to Savino, but she could hardly think for nerves, and it was so noisy.
The rumble of conversation all around was punctuated by electronic squeaks, beeps, and clicks as business people mixed with members of the public, all pushing to see the displays of cutting-edge technology.
At last she eased out of the crowd towards the door that led into the lecture room. Someone came out as she approached. For a few seconds, the fluid, melodic tone of Sav
ino's Italian-accented English leaked out of the room before the door closed.
The shock of hearing his voice stilled Emily's feet. She rested a hand on the wall and closed her eyes as the last eight months of trying to forget him fell away. Suddenly she was back in her hotel room in Brussels with Savino. She'd been working as a translator in the European parliament while he was there giving advice to a committee examining the ethics of using artificial intelligence.
How sweetly he'd kissed her that last morning when they finished their breakfast in bed, as if she were precious and fragile and he really cared for her. While they dressed, she'd asked him when they could see each other again. He'd turned to look in the mirror to knot his tie. "I'm too busy for a serious relationship," he'd said.
He'd gone on, explaining how he had to travel and so did she. How they would never have time to see each other. But his excuses barely penetrated Emily's shock and hurt. Thirty minutes later, he'd walked out of her life and she hadn't spoken to him since.
She kidded herself she'd recovered and moved on, but she hadn't. That memory still tore her up inside nearly as much as the moment it happened. She kept asking herself how she'd been so wrong, how she'd thought he cared for her when he obviously hadn't.
Her heart still ached for Savino, but she would never let him know. She couldn't risk being hurt again, especially when she would be responsible for a tiny newborn. She must build a wall around her heart and keep Savino out.
She could do this. She had to for her baby boy.
Determined to stay in control of her feelings, she pulled open the door and stepped into the darkened space. Rows of chairs faced the raised platform where Savino spoke into a headset, his hands dancing in the air to emphasize his points.
His dark hair gleamed beneath the spotlight, his chocolate-colored eyes alight with enthusiasm. Stunningly handsome in a navy suit and white shirt, he strode back and forth, lithe and fit, energy radiating from him as he explained the functions of a small robot that another man was controlling.
Sweet Italian Christmas: Three Christmas Romances Page 8