"By bullying me the moment I walk in the door?"
The already reddish tinge to Marco's features flushed deeper and she witnessed the frustration etched in his eyes. She felt the same.
Marco dragged a hand through his tousled dark locks. “Cara."
"Don't call me that."
His lips curved into a grim downward curve and his gaze narrowed. “If that is what you wish."
"Wish,” Carly parroted with soul-destroying exhaustion. She closed her eyes for a moment. She wished this were over. She wasn't sure she would survive an uncaring Marco. It was far harder than she'd ever expected.
The instant his fingers touched hers, flames of desire ignited in her veins and her eyes flew open, caught in the haunting gaze of her husband's sapphire blue stare. His fingers curled round hers, his warmth permeating her body, firing her chilled senses. Gently he tugged her forward.
On autopilot, Carly followed him as he led her toward the lounge and nudged her down onto the sofa.
"Stay still and silent,” he instructed. “If you can."
"What's this all about Marco?"
"You, and our baby."
Confused and so tired she could barely function let alone think, she wordlessly watched Marco move around the room as he brought a large towel and a bottle of lilac colored oil. Without speaking he knelt down in front of her and lifted her feet, placing them down on the towel. He took her shoes off, tossing them aside and lifted one foot and let if rest gently on his bunched thighs. Carly's breath caught in her throat as she watched his movements, felt his touch and the strength and tautness of his hard muscular thighs beneath her feet.
"Lavender,” he said holding the bottle. “They say it helps you to sleep.” He poured the rich aromatic oil onto the palm of his hand and Carly's nostrils flared as the sweet elixir stirred her senses.
Cradling her foot in one hand, his fingers deftly massaged the oil into her foot and within seconds, as his intimately erotic touch intensified, a groan of pure indulgent pleasure escaped her lips and she began to relax.
Through hooded lashes, Marco looked up at her, desire reflected in their darkened depths. “It's good you relax,” he said.
Finished with one foot, he began the same process on the other. Carly writhed on the sofa, biting back an urge so intense her fingers ached to hold onto him. She licked her lips, desperately aware of the need to taste his mouth on hers. Then without realizing it, her toes curled.
A burst of throaty laughter erupted from Marco making her jump and her eyes shot open. She looked down at her husband, her left foot still cradled in his oil soaked palms.
"Your toes curled."
Carly said nothing, but a scorching heat flushed her face.
"They say curling toes are an indication of sexual excitement."
"Oh.” She tried to sound vague and barely interested. But who was she trying to kid? “Glad you're amused.” She tried to straighten them, but they curled right up again and she groaned inwardly.
Straighten damn you, she cursed her toes. They remained curled.
"Am I driving you wild, cara?"
Carly could barely look at him, embarrassed he could read her so easily.
"I have never seen someone as sexy as you, cara."
"But I'm so ... pregnant,” she returned.
"Si, but I still desire you."
He desired her. He didn't say he loved her.
Carly ignored her own conscience and let her body dictate her needs. She desired Marco. She loved him. It was enough she told herself, and finally she gave herself permission to let go.
* * * *
"It's too early,” Carly gasped later that night as a tearing pain ripped through her and she struggled to find her breath.
Marco shot bolt up right, knocking the bedside phone to the floor as he lurched to find the light switch in the darkness. “Cara?"
"The baby. It's too early,” Carly cried. The pain subsided and she relaxed fractionally, until a few minutes later when her eyes blurred from another surging spasm and she automatically stiffened, stifling back a scream.
Within seconds Marco had flung some clothes on and raced around to her side of the bed. He crouched low, his face ashen. “Are you sure?"
"No. I have no idea. I've never had a baby before. Have you?"
Concern darkened his eyes and his lips thinned. “But you are only thirty-six weeks. Maybe it's indigestion."
"If this is indigestion,” Carly bit back, “I must have eaten an elephant. I think it's time to phone the hospital."
While Marco did as she asked, she eased herself off the bed. Pains came every few minutes. Wasn't that a bit fast? She wished it was indigestion, but somehow knew it wasn't. This baby was about to arrive whether she was ready or not.
Despite her protests, she was taken to the hospital by ambulance. At the hospital the white lights and voices passed in a blur as she concentrated on her baby. Marco never left her side.
"I'm right here."
She nodded. “Perhaps you could do this next time,” she whispered, teeth clenched as another pain subsided and they wheeled her into a side room. Carly looked backwards. Marco's face was gray, his eyes somber.
"Don't worry,” she said trying to smile, “the baby will be fine."
"It's not the...” but his word were broken off as they wheeled her through the swing doors, closing behind her and cutting him off from view.
* * * *
"Where is my wife?” Marco demanded.
"Mr. Valente if you will lower your voice a moment."
"No,” Marco stormed. “My wife is about to have my baby. I demand to see her."
"Yes, yes,” the nurse muttered, giving the other staff a rolling glance. “Another first timer,” she muttered under her breath. The other nurses merely smiled.
"Your wife is delivering rather fast Mr. Valente, she's loosing a bit of blood."
Marco shuddered and the nurse gave him a concerned look.
"You're not going to faint on me are you?"
Marco brushed aside her concern. “No. My wife?"
"Come with me."
He followed right on her heels, not giving the woman a moment to change her mind.
"Your wife is fine,” she said, making conversation. “A bit tired that's all. We've already put her on a drip and she's getting a bit of plasma. We don't want her to become anemic."
Marco said nothing and his thoughts raced with ‘what ifs’ as the nurse held the door open and he walked in. He took two steps to her side and reached for her hand, holding it in both of his. “Cara?"
"The baby,” Carly's eyes fluttered open.
"Fine,” the nurse interrupted. “Baby wants a quick entry."
"Push,” the doctor instructed.
Marco's head jerked sideways. At the end of the bed stood the doctor. He gave Marco a cursory nod and looked back at the action. “She's nearly there."
Marco stared down at his wife. Her eyes were squeezed shut and jaw clamped as she concentrated. Beads of sweat dotted her brow. Holding her hand, he reached for a nearby cloth and brushed aside the straggling damp strands of her hair. “I'm so proud of you,” he said. What he didn't add was that he'd never been so scared.
White faced and already bracing for the next wave of contractions, Carly still managed to giggle. “I've never seen you so circumspect."
But before he had time to reply, she let out a wail and her nails dug hard into his palm. His gut churned. He wanted this over. He didn't want to see her in pain.
"Here it comes,” the doctor announced.
Marco didn't know what to do. He felt more than useless, but as Carly exhaled a last harsh whoosh rushing from her lungs, he felt her suddenly relax. A hive of activity erupted around him, the baby taken by a nurse. Then, suddenly, the beautiful sound of their baby echoed around the room.
"Congratulations, you have a daughter Mr. and Mrs. Valente,” the doctor exclaimed as the whispered tones of an attending nurse passed the baby to Carly, a
nd then retreated to finish with the delivery.
A daughter.
He was a father.
A swell of exulting pride rippled through Marco as he stared on in wonderment at the baby now snuggling against Carly. His child. “She looks like a cherubic angel,” he whispered, smiling. “Just like you.” He bent to kiss the top of his daughter's head.
Just then the head nurse walked in. “Right you two, no more canoodling. That's what got you here in the first place, Mr. Valente."
Marco chuckled. Nothing could drown his buoyant mood.
"Now, I need to take baby for a few minutes to weigh her."
"Is there something wrong?"
"No sir, you've got a fine and healthy baby. It's simply procedure. Won't be long.” With that, the nurse gathered the baby in her arms, whispering cooing noises as if the wee babe was her own and retreated to an auxiliary room off to one side.
"Marco,” Carly began, but he placed a finger on her mouth and felt the light rush of her breath against his skin.
"Shush,” he quieted. “The baby is fine. It's you I..."
"Don't worry about me."
"I do, cara,” he said dropping a kiss to her tousled hair.
But as Carly let out a heavy sigh and a tear trailed down her cheek, pain ripped at his heart. The most joyous day of his life and he watched his wife cry. He lifted a finger and wiped away the tear, brushing the corner of her mouth. Her lips trembled and she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.
"I didn't try and trap you. I want our baby, and would never have gotten rid of it. If you want to carry on with Rosaria, it's okay. Just don't forget our baby, that's all."
"Carry on with...? You think that I've been ... that I'm interested in her? No, cara, never. And how could I forget our child, or her beautiful mother? You are unforgettable, Carly Valente. Your auburn curls and luscious body.” Marco searched for the right word, then he smiled, remembering. “You empower me."
"Empower? That sounds mighty challenging."
"Si. Like Mama said, two hearts, one soul, equals empowering love."
"One soul ... Love?” Carly's brow creased, eyes darkening with confusion, a wariness washing across her face.
"Mama is a wise woman when it comes to these things."
"I want to believe you, Marco, but I...” she stalled over her words.
No! He had to make her believe in his love for her. He gripped her hands in his, pleading silently with his touch, his heart.
"Oh, Marco, it's just the emotional high of becoming a father.” Her voice was but a whisper and he had the distinct and fearful sense he was losing her. “There's been so much anger between us, so much distrust, for too long."
"But if those hearts change,” he said, hope coloring his every word. “It's not just the baby, cara. It's you. From the very start it was you who stole my sanity, kept me up at night, made me want things I never thought I'd want from a woman."
For a moment, there was silence and he watched his wife, searching her face as if seeking assurance. He brushed his lips across hers and felt her tremble again. He pulled away.
"Don't go.” Her voice was a plea and stirred his dreams and hopes.
He clasped her hand firmly, his fingers stroking in circles on her palm. “Never,” he replied.
It brought a tentative smile to her lips. Seeing it swelled his heart and he realized with distinct clarity he had to take a chance. He glanced over his shoulder toward the other room where the nurse was busy settling their daughter, then back to his wife. Dragging in a breath, he prayed as he'd never done before. He was about to gamble his life, everything he'd known or thought he'd wanted, on the most precious thing in his life, the love he felt for his wife. “I don't want to lose you."
"You won't,” Carly confirmed.
"I need to explain."
Carly shook her head, but he silenced her with a soft kiss on her warm lips. “I must. When you told me you were pregnant, it was as if it was happening all over again,” Marco bit out.
"Again?"
"Some time ago, before we met,” he admitted, “Rosaria Santos led me to believe she was pregnant with my child. She got rid of it."
"Oh God, no.” Carly's nails dug into his forearms, but he ignored the pain. It was no more than what he had felt hearing Rosaria's cruel words.
"However, she wasn't pregnant—at least not by me. The night she phoned she admitted she'd made those calls to you. She also told me she had taken an overdose."
"That other phone call, in the bathroom?” Carly questioned.
"To the hospital. I wanted to tell you, but she pleaded with me not to."
"Loyal till the end.” Carly said dully. “To another woman, Marco. Not me!"
"I'm truly sorry. It was foolish and cruel, something I will regret for all my days. Rosaria and I were once friends, good friends, but I have never ever felt for her what I feel for you, cara mia, believe me."
Marco waited, his heart hammering in his chest, hoping and praying his gamble on life would pay off. It had to!
"I want to,” Carly said lifting tear-filled eyes up to him. “But you hurt me. I married you understanding you didn't love me, but you abandoned me for another woman. You cheapened our marriage. Oh, I know it wasn't a real marriage..."
A vicious pain tore into Marco's heart. What had he done? “What I feel for you is real, cara mia."
"Until she turns up again. Or you get tired of playing Daddy."
"No. That's not going to happen. Do you hear me? I need you in my life Carly Valente. Need our daughter. But mostly I need and want you at my side. Please understand."
For a long moment, Marco didn't dare breathe, but clutched his wife's hands in his. He searched her face. “You are everything to me, and I've been foolish, scared to believe in love, scared to even try, until I nearly lost it all. Help me believe, Carly. Stand at my side."
Watching Carly, Marco saw a flurry of emotions cross her face. He desperately wanted her to understand and to forgive him. “I need to tell you about Rosaria."
"You don't have to."
Marco's chest heaved with a raw and caustic sigh. Oh yes he did. “If I am to expunge her from our marriage, cara, I do.” For a few moments, he offered a silent prayer to the heavens. Then he began. “Rosaria got caught up with some casino high flyer. Trouble was she fell in love, hard and fast,” he shrugged ruefully. “But her gambler was gambling not just with money but her heart, and she fell pregnant."
Carly's eyes widened.
"Yes, I know. A bit like calling wolf. However, the father didn't want to know.” Marco bent closer to Carly and stroked her cheek with the side of his hand. “But believe me, Carly Valente, I have been with no other woman since our time in paradise."
A slow, lingering smile lit Carly's face. “That long, huh?"
"Si. How could I?"
"Thank you. To know that means everything to me, Marco and despite my disapproval of the sex-pot, I do feel sorry for her. To love and not be loved in return is a cruel fate."
"Si. Rosaria thought to end her life, or at least to try would bring him back."
"And has it?"
"No,” he admitted with sadness. “She has gone back to Italy to heal her wounds. She won't bother us again."
"Good,” Carly affirmed.
"My love, you are the one for me. You are my heart, my life. I fought hard to resist. I struggled to understand love. I didn't want to believe it, tried to ignore my heart. I couldn't. It wouldn't let me."
"So you forced me back."
Guilt washed over Marco, but he knew the accusation was deserved. “I was determined to use anything to get you back. I know it was harsh, but I was a desperate man."
"And desperate people use desperate measures,” Carly added.
"It was the ‘L’ word."
"Love?"
"It was foreign to me, an emotion I had dodged with ruthless determination for years. But once you came into my life, lighting up my heart and soul, love grabbed me when
I wasn't expecting it. The way I feel for you threw me. It was a new experience, something I wasn't sure how to handle. I was scared. Can you forgive me? I never meant to hurt you. I only want to love you."
Marco waited. How he loved this woman. He prayed to the gods for forgiveness, that she could love him enough.
"You want my forgiveness?"
He nodded. “Desperately."
"Well,” she hesitated, then her eyes lit up with a twinkle. “I love you, too, Marco Valente, though like you I fought hard against it. My father disappeared when I was a child and I grew up with a string of ‘uncles', while my sisters’ constant stream of men didn't impress me much either. It warned me off men. I thought they were unreliable and I determined I would ‘go it alone’ and be independent."
"And my trying to blackmail you didn't improve the image I bet."
Carly gave him a sheepish grin. “But how can a woman resist a knight in shining armor?"
"Your car?"
"Mm. The fates were with me that night. Oh, Marco, I love you. I always have, and will. I want you to be in our baby's life."
Tears glistened in Carly's eyes and his heart broke in two. “Shush, don't cry,” he pleaded, brushing away the sprinkle of teardrops. “To think I have done this to you."
"No, it's not you. Giving birth, seeing your joy at becoming a father is wonderful, but tinged too with sadness. I may not have liked my father's desertion, but it hasn't stopped me loving him. Not really, not deep down. And yet he left me with the belief that when a woman loves a man, that man eventually breaks her heart and leaves her."
Marco walked to the window and stared for the briefest moment down into the car park, watching patients and visitors alike, intent on their business. He turned back to Carly. She had to believe him. “You question what I want? Carly, you are my life. I want you in it forever. I was a fool. My mother has a penchant for husbands, giving me too many fathers that weren't particularly fond of having someone else's offspring hampering their lives.” Marco grimaced as he finally doused the mental pictures of his tormented childhood once and forever. Carly squeezed his hand slightly, encouraging him, giving him the confidence to carry on.
"Mother loved all her husbands. However, sending me off to distant relations in Italy wasn't conducive to giving me a good idea of family life, or a good impression of fathers. I vowed never to marry, never to have a child and risk putting an innocent life through that much heartbreak."
Hiring Cupid Page 18