by Anne Mather
‘Only because you’ve been staying up late with Giles and David.’
‘Late?’ Matteo pulled a wry face. ‘Half-past ten is not late, cara, and you know it. And I’d rather be with you, as you’re aware.’
Grace expelled a breath. ‘All right. All right. I’m pregnant.’ She hunched her shoulders. ‘I was afraid to tell you, that’s all. I know you didn’t want another baby. I—I didn’t arrange it to happen, if that’s what you think.’
Matteo left his chair to put both hands on the arms of hers, leaning over her, his eyes dark and passionate. ‘You have no need to be afraid of me,’ he told her huskily. ‘Dio, Grace, I realised there was always a chance it could happen again. I have had to come to terms with this possibility. But know this: it is not that I don’t want another baby; it is only that I cannot bear the thought of losing you.’
‘I know. And you won’t.’ Grace reached up to stroke his face with gentle fingers. ‘Oh, Matteo, I want this baby—our baby—so much.’
‘Do you think I don’t?’ Matteo breathed a little unevenly at the thought. ‘But afterwards we will have some time alone together. I love my children, but I love my wife so very much...’
He kissed her then, supporting himself with his hands until Grace arched up to him, then he collapsed beside her on the lounger with a helpless groan. ‘Have a care, cara,’ he said. ‘Our guests will be arriving for the party very shortly. Not least, your mother and your sisters. You would not wish for them to find us making love right here.’
Grace chuckled. ‘I will if you will,’ she said mischievously, and Matteo buried his face against her throat.
‘Perhaps tonight I will not entertain your brothers-in-law,’ he told her in a strangled voice. ‘Tonight there will be no “headaches”, eh, cara?’
Their daughter, Anna Maria, was born a little under eight months later, and once again Grace had had a fairly easy confinement So much so that when Matteo brought the baby to her she was already anticipating the trip he had promised months before.
They went to the Caribbean for their second honeymoon six months later, leaving the marchesa and Grace’s mother in charge in their absence. It had been Matteo’s idea that Mrs Horton should winter in Valle di Falco, and for the last two years she had occupied her own suite on the south side of the villa.
Perhaps not surprisingly, she and the marchesa had become good friends, and there was no doubt that the warmer climate was a boon to Mrs Horton’s arthritis. But she still spent the summer in England, catching up with her other daughters and their families, and checking on the house in Islington Crescent where Giles and Pauline still lived.
The trip to the Caribbean was heavenly. As well as Matteo’s satisfaction at having his wife all to himself, Grace appreciated having her husband’s undivided attention. At home, there was always some problem to be dealt with. In Barbados, there was just sun and sea and love.
‘By the way, Mum told me she’d heard from Pauline that Julia got married last week,’ Grace murmured sleepily, relaxing in the aftermath of an afternoon making love. ‘It was apparently announced in the paper. Some businessman or other, I believe.’
‘Who cares?’ groaned Matteo, grasping her hand when it would have roamed down over his stomach. ‘I’m grateful to her for bringing us together, but nothing else.’
‘Isn’t it enough?’ whispered Grace, finding it in her heart to be charitable. She hoped Julia was happy. But no one could be happier than she was herself...
ISBN-13: 9781460393161
THE BABY GAMBIT
© 1999 Anne Mather
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