Right now he acted as if he’d enjoy doing the same with the doctor. And his adolescent sister was sitting in the room!
An adolescent sister who clearly was enthralled by her brother as well. But where Rachel was trusting the brother she’d only heard about, Gemma was more circumspect. As she’d discovered of late, brothers could deceive in the cruelest of ways.
If her own brother whom she’d loved and nurtured could stab her in the back, how safe could Rachel be with a sibling who was a virtual stranger? One who’d had no difficulty turning his back on his family before.
“I assume you are aware we are still keeping close watch over Rachel,” the doctor said to Stefano.
Stefano made a seesaw motion with one long-fingered hand as if to indicate that he only had a sketchy idea of all Rachel had been through and what she still faced. “I would appreciate it if you would enlighten me.”
“Gladly.” The doctor launched into a detailed version of Rachel’s surgery, recovery and regimen of drugs designed to hold her markers low.
“I don’t want to guess what the outcome would’ve been if you hadn’t found a donor,” he said.
The doctor inclined her head. “We would not be here now.”
“Papa was upset that he wasn’t a match,” Rachel said.
“I should hope so,” Stefano said. “It would’ve grieved me to know I could not save my sister’s life.”
“Would you have donated your marrow?” Gemma asked.
“Without hesitation,” he said, and she knew he meant it.
This was a side of him that she’d never seen before and she didn’t know quite what to make of the changes. Gone was the austere demeanor. He seemed younger. More relaxed. More open.
“If you’ve no more questions, I’ll return to talk with you after Rachel’s CT scan and blood work is finished,” the doctor said.
Gemma forced a calm mien as the nurse took Rachel from the room for her tests. The old worry that the girl’s numbers would be high or the technician would see something that indicated the cancer had returned plagued her.
She wanted her to be free of the disease that had taken her own mother’s life. She’d failed to save her mother and this was her redemption. More, actually, for she’d come to know Rachel and love the child nobody had wanted.
The second the door to the examination room closed, the walls fairly swelled with tension. She turned to Stefano who was watching her with eyes that mirrored the depth and mystery of the Mediterranean Sea.
“Why wasn’t I consulted as a bone marrow donor?” Stefano asked, pushing to his feet to prowl the small room.
Why indeed? Gemma could only guess from what Cesare had told her.
“Your father didn’t want his wife to know about Rachel. If you’d been called in to test for a match, his secret would have been revealed,” she said.
His hand cut the air in an impatient gesture she’d come to recognize. “Was he too cowardly to confess his infidelity?”
“Perhaps protective is a better word,” Gemma said. “He told me his wife lacked a forgiving nature and she’d already suffered enough grief with the death of your brother and his family.”
The grim lines on his face told her that he’d suffered as well. “He should have told her about his love child years ago.”
She shook her head. “Cesare didn’t know Rachel existed until a year ago. That’s when a social worker at the hospital contacted him about her grave condition.”
He scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Was it before or after Davide’s accident?”
“After,” she said. “Rachel was sick. Dying. He’d just buried one son and family. He couldn’t let his daughter die as well. So he took money from the company and from his wife’s trust fund to pay for Rachel’s care.”
He cut her a cold look that enveloped her in ice, but she refused to shrink from his anger on this. For Rachel she’d brave anything—she had braved it already by facing her deepest fears.
“How in the hell did a woman from Manarolo become involved in my father’s business? Was it money?”
The accusation stung, but considering the troubled past between them, she let the comment go.
Tell him all of it. Get it all out in the open now. But that meant she’d have to divulge her own fears and guilt.
“I attended university in Milan and volunteered at the hospital every weekend,” she admitted. “I was working here nights when Rachel was admitted. There was a letter with her explaining that the mother could no longer care for her. Cesare was listed as the father, so we notified him.”
“He took a paternity test?”
“Right away and it was conclusive proof.”
“That is obvious just looking at her,” he said. “I take it you were the stranger my papa could confide in.”
“Yes.” And the one whose marrow was a perfect match, but she couldn’t bring herself to discuss that now, not when there was a greater issue at stake.
“Now that you know about Rachel, you can see that she leads a normal life. She shouldn’t have to remain hidden here.”
He stalked to the window and splayed a hand on the glass, the fingers long and bent just enough to remind her his relative calm was a tenuous thing—as if she needed a reminder!
“The school Rachel attends is elite but it is not a boarding school,” he said. “Who takes care of her?”
“Your father hired a nanny who sees to Rachel’s daily needs, but it isn’t the same as living with family.”
“Does Rachel know the difference?”
“I’m sure she does,” Gemma said. “She needs to live in Viareggio with her family. She deserves to live a normal life.”
“Normal how?” he asked. “I went to a private school. I rarely saw my family. This doesn’t differ that much. The girl attends school in Milan. Her doctors are in Milan.”
“In other words she is out of your hair if she stays here,” she said, and when he didn’t refute that she wanted to scream. “Of course you’d take this stance.”
“It is logical and the best solution for my half sister.”
Couldn’t he address the child by name? “You’ve no idea what is best for Rachel. You don’t know her and it is clear you have no intention of getting to know her.”
A charged quiet arced between them, like the wake of an electrical storm. He didn’t pace. He didn’t scowl. He just stared at her with a face burned clean of emotions.
“My father arranged for her to stay here so I trust this was his choice,” Stefano said.
He would take that logic. “It was his only choice at the time. Keeping Rachel here was ideal during the worst of her medical care, but of late Cesare had talked about moving her to Viareggio.”
“That is out of the question now,” he said. “My father’s doctors say it is unlikely he will recover enough to care for himself, let alone a business and a child.”
Gemma had suspected as much, but hearing it made her heart ache for Cesare and Rachel. She met Stefano’s stoic gaze without flinching despite the stab of regret that he wouldn’t open his arms and heart to Rachel.
“You should know that Cesare asked me to assume Rachel’s care should something happen to him, and I trust he made the proper arrangement,” she said and hoped that were true. “You will not have to bother yourself about her welfare.”
“Did my father establish a separate trust fund for her?” he asked. “Is that why you are so keen to take over the care of my sister? Do you hope to gain control of her fortune?”
The verbal slap sent her emotions reeling again. “I am doing this because I love her. If Cesare set aside any money for Rachel, it will be hers.”
“How noble of you.” He straightened, becoming six foot three of domineering male. “She is not your responsibility.”
A chill whispered over Gemma’s heart as she stared into his enigmatic eyes and read the challenge there. “You don’t want her so why are you fighting me on this?”
“She is a Marinetti.�
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As if saying that meant anything. “She’s a child in need of love. I can give her that. Can you?”
“I will provide for my sister.”
She stamped a foot in frustration. “That is not the same thing as opening your heart to her!”
“I am her brother,” he said. “If my father can no longer see to Rachel’s care then it falls to me.”
“You don’t want her.”
“I doubt my father did, either,” he said.
Gemma moved to the other window and stared out at a city that bustled with activity for she simply couldn’t bear to look into Stefano’s hard eyes again.
Was there any way that she could reach his heart? Could she get him to see that having his family around him would make him a better man?
“You’re wrong,” she said. “Cesare could have stood by and done nothing to save Rachel, but he hired the best doctors. He sat by her bedside when she was frail and sickly and given little chance to survive even after they found a perfect donor match. Does that sound like a man who didn’t want to be near his child?”
Stefano was silent for so long she feared he wouldn’t answer her. “No, it does not.”
She didn’t delude herself into thinking that small concession was a sign he’d softened. She doubted that Stefano had ever conceded defeat in his life.
But she couldn’t give up Rachel, either. “Please, let me assume her care. She needs me.”
He turned her to face him and nudged her chin up with a curled finger, his touch igniting a torrent of conflicting emotions in her—anger, fear, desire.
“Does she really need you, bella? Or do you need her?”
CHAPTER TEN
THE lush lips that trembled apart confirmed what Stefano had sensed in her. Gemma Cardone was obsessed with seeing to his sister’s welfare.
It made no sense to him that a stranger would become so attached to a sick child, especially one she’d only known a short time. But it was clear his sister was equally close to Gemma—the two shared a bond that was as strong as blood ties.
“This donor that was a perfect match. It was you,” he said, certain he had pieced that much together now.
She met his stare head-on. “Yes.”
Her admission allowed the rest to fall into order. The massive sums of money his father had routinely spent in Milan had been for Rachel’s care. The small fortune Gemma had suddenly acquired had been her reward for her life-giving marrow.
“You were well paid,” he said.
“I didn’t ask for the money or want it.”
“Yet you took it anyway.”
“Cesare insisted,” she said.
“Did he also insist that you become his personal secretary?”
She bit her lip, and that slight hesitation was blood to a shark. She was still hiding something from him. But what?
“I needed a job,” she said.
“And he needed a confidant as well as a secretary to manage his secret and his business.”
“Yes. He never meant to hurt his family,” she said.
He nodded, believing that as well. His father had found himself in a precarious position with a sick, illegitimate child and a jealous wife who would never have accepted Rachel.
“Are you related to Rachel?”
She shook her head and he knew before she voiced the denial that she was telling the truth. “No. Why do you ask?”
“I am trying to determine why a young woman would give so much to a stranger, even for free, as you claim.”
She looked away, clearly uncomfortable again. “It was the right thing to do.”
“Come now. You should know by now that you can trust me with your secret.” He stroked her cheek with a finger and had the satisfaction of watching color bloom in its wake. “Why were you even tested, bella?”
She shrugged, but the movement screamed of soul-deep tension. “I was on the donor list as a possible match.”
“Why were you on the list?”
She gave a sharp shake of her head as if a part of her was reluctant to share the truth. “I wanted to be of help. I wanted to save a life.”
“There’s more to it than that. Tell me.”
She tried to pull away from him but he closed in on her, maintaining his hold and edging her further into distress. He had her trapped and they both knew it.
“Why, Gemma? Why did you put your name on a bone marrow registry?”
She trembled, quaking silently and uncontrollably. But it was her eyes filling with moisture that made his gut clench. He’d never been moved by a woman’s tears before, but he was now and that scared the hell out of him.
“Because I’d promised myself that I’d not hesitate to save a life if I ever had the chance to do so again,” she said.
Again? “What happened before that drove you to do this?”
She swallowed hard, her eyes so glassy with moisture he was sure she could see nothing but the past that tormented her. For once his impatience crumbled around him. Seeing her in such raw pain lashed his soul and he drew her into his arms, offering her comfort and taking the same from her nearness.
“It’s all right,” he said, wiping away the silent tears that streamed down her face and feeling closer to her now than he had when they’d made love.
She sniffled loudly and tried to compose herself. “My mother had leukemia and needed a bone marrow transplant,” she said at last. “Nobody in the family was a match. Nobody but me.”
“You donated your marrow to save your mother?”
“No. I was confused and afraid.” She bit her lower lip so hard he feared she’d draw blood. “I was too young to understand it all. Mamma insisted I be spared the pain of it.”
“She was protecting you.”
Again the abrupt shake of her head. “Perhaps that was part of it. But I was terrified of the procedure, selfish and fearful that giving part of me would somehow make me more vulnerable to the disease that was killing Mamma. I put my feelings above her life. I believed that in all of Italy they’d find another donor.” She swallowed hard. “But they didn’t.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he simply pulled her into his arms. “How old were you?”
“Twelve.” She lifted her eyes to his then and his gut clenched from the guilt she’d heaped on herself. “I could have saved her life if I’d acted sooner, if I’d realized how desperately she needed me. By the time I agreed to be a donor, she was too weak for the surgery. She died the next day.”
“Bella.” Stefano cradled her close and dropped kisses on her closed eyes that were still damp with tears. “You must let the past go.”
And wouldn’t he be wise to take his own advice as well? He couldn’t continue to think every woman was a gold-digger, that they were out for money and position.
He couldn’t continue to isolate himself from his family, especially now with a gravely ill father and a sister who’d need care. No, a family.
As if reading his thoughts, she said, “Please think about moving Rachel to Viareggio.”
The door opened and Rachel bounded into the room, putting an end to that conversation. “May we go for ices now?”
“That’s a fabulous idea,” Gemma said, her voice still holding a tremor of sadness. “Stefano? Will you join us?”
“I wouldn’t dream of letting two lovely ladies leave without me,” he said, gaining a squeal from his sister and a deepening blush from Gemma.
Her affection toward his sister touched something deep inside him. Something that had lain hidden for years.
She was a good woman. She’d make a fine mother. A fabulous wife. But was he ready for such a commitment? Or was he seeing her as the one who’d make his life easier, and his nights far more interesting?
He wished to hell he knew, for Gemma deserved more than what his money could offer her. She deserved his love.
Gemma had expected Stefano to be stiff and withdrawn around Rachel, but he treated her as if he’d known her all his life. As if
she was family that he cared about.
In fact, it had been the most delightful day that she’d spent in his company, with the exception of baring her own soul. But even then he’d held her with such tenderness that she’d finally done as he’d suggested and let go of some of the guilt that had gripped her for so long.
Now the question remained what would the future hold for all of them. Gemma expected Stefano would be eager to return to Viareggio, but after seeing Rachel returned to her nanny at the modest house in Milan, he seemed in no hurry to leave.
“I am ravenous,” he said as he escorted Gemma into an upscale restaurant. “You must be as well.”
“Maybe a little hungry.”
He smiled, a flash of teeth made more white against his tanned olive skin. The glint in his dark, magnetic eyes hinted he was hungry for more than food, but it was the slow curl of his fingers against the small of her back that had her own desire blossoming.
She swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on their surroundings, but a glance at the intimate tables and couples with eyes for each other only brought images of her and Stefano doing the same. How easy it would be to fall in love with him. Or had she already done that?
The waiter showed them to a table tucked in a corner that was made more private by the gorgeous specimens of potted ferns. He waited until Stefano had seated Gemma before rattling off an impressive wine list.
“The night calls for champagne,” Stefano said, and Gemma wondered what had suddenly put him in such a celebratory mood.
“Would you like to hear the menu now?” the waiter asked, and at Stefano’s nod, he listed the house specials.
All were marvelous dishes, but Gemma couldn’t do justice to a meal, not the way her stomach was in knots over this emotional day followed by this new side of Stefano.
She hoped that meeting his sister had brought about the change in him. Would he give his sister’s care more thought? Would he finally realize the importance of family and embrace it instead of shunning it?
Or was he simply of a mind to romance her tonight? Her body warmed at the thought, even though her mind rebelled. She had too much to consider. Too many worries.
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