Claiming His Wedding Night Consequence

by Abby Green

  Nico felt as if a layer of skin was being peeled away to reveal the tender underside of a wound. It was disconcerting. ‘Why would I mind? The truth is that it should never have been allowed to become overgrown in the first place.’

  ‘No, it shouldn’t,’ she said quietly. ‘And I thought that this would at least go some way to rectifying the situation.’

  What Chiara had done cut right to the heart of him. Nico knew his reaction was irrational, but he couldn’t control it—there was much he couldn’t control at the moment. He felt as if his heart was expanding in his chest, cutting off all the oxygen, making it hard to breathe. He also—ridiculously—felt his eyes stinging.

  All he could think of to counteract his reaction was to push Chiara back to where he might be able to breathe again.

  He turned to her. ‘Cleaning a graveyard won’t do much to rectify the fact that your family wilfully denied us our home for generations. The only thing that will is when our daughter is born, and then a son, to breathe life back into the Santo Domenico name indelibly.’

  Nico walked away from Chiara, but her stricken, hurt expression was burnt onto his brain. He told himself it was for the best. The sooner she remembered why they were married, the better.

  * * *

  ‘You haven’t forgotten about the charity ball tonight in Naples? We’ll be staying over, so you need to pack a bag.’

  Chiara closed the book on pregnancy she’d been reading in the library and looked up. Hurt at the way Nico had reacted to the graveyard yesterday was still fresh in her stomach, making her feel ill, but she suppressed it.

  ‘I’ve packed a bag. I’m ready to go when you are.’

  He looked at his watch. ‘We’ll leave in an hour.’

  Chiara didn’t pick up her book again when he’d left. She couldn’t concentrate. She rubbed her belly distractedly. The baby had been restless over the past few days. She figured it was just because she was getting closer and closer to her due date.

  The cracks that she’d envisaged as being just below the surface of her marriage with Nico were becoming more apparent. And even though he’d shown her again and again that he wasn’t ready to give more, that little kernel of hope inside her wouldn’t die.

  She hated herself for it, but sometimes she saw an expression on Nico’s face, or in his eyes, before he blanked it, that made her heart thump hard and made her think there might be a chance he could feel something for her.

  But yesterday had been a brutal lesson in remembering her place. She had thought the restoration of the graveyard would please him, but maybe inadvertently she’d reminded him of his priorities.

  She levered herself out of the chair to go and gather her things, telling herself that what she had to focus on was the baby—that had to be her priority for now, not wishing for things that would never happen.

  * * *

  Nico knew he was behaving like a boor, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. They’d taken his private jet for the short flight to Naples, and he’d booked them into one of Naples’s most exclusive hotels to get ready.

  When Chiara had emerged from the dressing room he’d wanted to march her right back inside and peel the grey Grecian-style dress from her body. It was one-shouldered, and totally modest, but it seemed to cling indecently to every rounded curve.

  She’d left her hair down and coiled it over one shoulder in a loose plait, and it glowed with brown and faint auburn highlights. She looked young and modern and fresh—and far too sexy for Nico’s equilibrium.

  He’d said nothing, though and they’d left, with the tension that had been between them since the graveyard incident yesterday still simmering. Nico knew he should apologise—Chiara was not to blame for the decisions made by her family many years ago, and he’d told her from the start that he didn’t hold her personally responsible. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it because he was afraid of the softening he’d see in those green eyes. He was afraid of how badly he wanted to see it. To have it soothe something ragged inside him.

  When they’d arrived at the function he’d been cornered by some business associates who had been chasing him for weeks and Chiara had said, ‘Go on—I’ll find a drink and a seat.’

  And now he couldn’t see her, and frustration was prickling over his skin. He was feeling claustrophobic.

  And then finally he did spot her, over in the corner, and hated how his heart-rate immediately eased.

  He kept her in his sights after that.

  * * *

  ‘Do you mind if I join you?’

  Chiara looked up to see a tall and very elegant grey-haired woman dressed in black hovering over the chair beside her.

  She put out a hand. ‘Not at all. I’m afraid I’m not being very sociable. High heels and swollen ankles don’t really mix very well.’

  The woman sat down.

  She looked familiar to Chiara, and she asked impulsively, ‘Have we met before?’

  The woman shook her head. ‘No, my dear, we haven’t. I’d remember you—you’re one of the most naturally beautiful women I’ve seen in these circles in a long time.’

  Chiara blushed, embarrassed by this compliment from a stranger. ‘Thank you—what a nice thing to say.’

  The woman looked at her bump. ‘Due soon?’

  Chiara put a hand on her bump. ‘In a couple of weeks. But I’ve been warned it could go over—most first babies do.’

  Then the woman said, ‘I’m sorry—how rude of me. I’m Patrizia Sorellani. Pleased to meet you.’

  Chiara took her outstretched hand. ‘Chiara Santo Domenico.’

  The woman held on to her hand. ‘You’re married to Nicolo Santo Domenico?’

  Chiara nodded. ‘Yes. Do you know him?’

  The women pulled her hand back and nodded. She looked sad. ‘Yes, I do...in a way. I’m his mother.’

  Chiara absorbed the shock. ‘You knew who I was before you came over?’

  The woman nodded unhappily. ‘I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been trying to get him to meet me for some time now, but he keeps rebuffing me. I thought that maybe—’

  ‘What are you doing here? You are not welcome.’

  Both women looked up to see Nico towering over them. He was glaring at his mother in a way that Chiara recognised from their first meeting. She barely knew the other woman, but she knew instinctively what she should do—even though it would incur Nico’s wrath.

  She stood up. ‘Your mother is here because she wants to speak with you.’

  Nico turned his glare on Chiara, but she met it full-on.

  ‘Can’t you give her just five minutes?’

  For what seemed like an aeon Nico said nothing, and then, finally, ‘Very well. Five minutes. Come with me.’

  He turned and stalked off. Patrizia turned to Chiara for a moment, saying emotionally, ‘Thank you so much.’ Then she hurried after her son.

  Chiara sat down again, a little shell-shocked.

  It was about fifteen minutes before Nico reappeared, and he looked grim.

  Chiara put down her glass. ‘What is it? Is everything okay?’

  He took her arm. ‘We’re leaving.’

  He all but marched her out of the function room to where his car was waiting outside. Once in the back of the car, and when it was moving Chiara said, ‘How did it go with your mother? She seemed...nice...’ she finished lamely.

  Nico was looking out of the other window, his whole form tense. ‘I listened to what she had to say.’

  ‘Nico—’

  He turned to her. ‘Something else has come up. I’m going to drop you at the hotel and then I’m going to fly to Rome tonight. The plane will return to take you home in the morning. I’ll be back tomorrow evening.’

  In other words he wasn’t going to discuss his mother or whatever else was going on.

/>   They were pulling up outside the hotel now. Nico got out and came around to let Chiara out of the car. He escorted her inside and left her at the lift. By the time she was in the suite and kicking off her shoes frustration was bubbling up inside her.

  Maybe Nico did have a crisis to attend to—maybe he didn’t. But one thing was clear: she was not welcome to stray out of the clear boundary zone he’d put her in all those months ago.

  Chiara undressed and undid her hair, cleaned off her make-up. Then she pulled on a thick robe and went on to the outdoor balcony, leaning on the railing, drinking in the view of Naples at night, this thriving, hectic, chaotic city.

  She sucked in a deep breath. It was time to face facts. Nico wasn’t going to miraculously fall in love with her. He was going to continue to operate like a lone wolf and punish her for getting too close by shutting her out.

  The future she faced was stark. It was also lonely. And Chiara needed to figure out what was best for her and her baby.

  * * *

  By the time Nico returned to the castello the following evening—late—Chiara was waiting. Nervous but composed. She had let all the staff have a night off, because there was a fête in the local village, so there would be no interruptions.

  He came into the reception room and saw her straight away. ‘You shouldn’t have waited up.’

  Chiara noticed that he looked tired and her silly heart clenched. His jaw was stubbled. ‘Was everything okay?’

  He moved over to the drinks cabinet, pulling at his tie as he did so. He poured himself a shot of whisky and downed it in one. And then he turned around.

  ‘There was a fire at a tech plant I own outside Rome.’

  Chiara gasped, and immediately felt guilty for having thought he was just trying to avoid her. ‘Was anyone hurt?’

  He shook his head. ‘Thankfully there were no employees there—just security guards, and they raised the alarm. It’ll be covered by insurance.’

  Chiara said, ‘You should have told me, Nico. I want to know when things like that happen.’

  ‘But it’s nothing to do with you.’

  ‘Of course it is! I’m your wife.’

  For a long moment he said nothing, and then he said, ‘Fair enough. And I owe you an apology. I handled the graveyard thing badly. It was a shock to see it like that...exposed, and being taken care of, after all these years. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you—you did a good thing.’

  ‘I wanted to do a good thing. I never meant anything else. But maybe I should have asked first. After all, this isn’t my home any more.’

  He frowned. ‘Yes, it is, Chiara—you’re having my child.’

  She felt desperation rise in the face of Nico’s infuriating calm. This was what he did—retreated to that civil place. No emotion.

  ‘But it’s not really my home, is it? I’m here mainly under sufferance—because you didn’t want to wait until the castello was in the bank’s hands and I didn’t want to let it go. And then I got pregnant. We both know I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that sequence of events.’ She continued painfully, ‘I know you wouldn’t throw me out...but I’ll never be anything more than a glorified guest.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m talking about the fact that you are determined to shut me out at all costs, Nico. Whenever I stray too close you push me away. And I know you told me you can’t ever give me more, and I know I thought I could deal with that, but the fact is... I can’t.’

  He just looked at her.

  Chiara kept going before she lost her nerve.

  ‘The truth is that I fell in love with you, Nico, way back... I think on our wedding night. And when you were so clinical the next morning, so unmoved, I realised that I had it all wrong. It had just been a physical thing for you, while for me...it changed my life. Me. I was so terrified you’d notice that I ran away, hoping I’d never see you again. But then I became pregnant. And you brought me back.

  ‘Even then I tried to tell myself it wasn’t love. That it was infatuation because you’d been my first lover. But it wasn’t. I love you, Nico, and I do want more, and I won’t survive with you unless you can give me that... So I think the best thing, once the baby comes, is if I move somewhere else. We can talk about custody arrangements at a later date.’

  She finished speaking and felt her heart beating wildly. Nico looked stunned. As if someone had just punched him.

  ‘Why are you telling me you love me? Is it because you’re hoping it might get you back on the deeds of the castello? Is that what this is all about?’

  Chiara should have known to expect Nico’s ever-present cynicism, but it was still a shock.

  She shook her head. ‘No, it’s not about me trying to get anything. It’s about self-preservation.’

  His eyes were burning. ‘You’re having my child. You can’t leave.’

  Chiara tipped up her chin. She felt as if her insides were being lacerated, and there was a dull pain at the base of her spine. ‘Nico, after the baby is born I’m going to ask for a divorce.’

  He shook his head and put the glass in his hand down with a clatter on the drinks tray. ‘Chiara, this is crazy. You know what we have...’

  He started walking towards her and panic galvanised Chiara into action. If he touched her she’d crumble.

  She put up her hand. ‘Please—don’t. I don’t want you, Nico. Not like that. Not now.’

  Liar. You’ll always want him.

  She saw that look in his eye—the look that told her he was thinking that all he had to do was touch her and she’d acquiesce.

  Her panic intensified. ‘I’m sleeping alone tonight, Nico. I need some space.’

  The intense expression on his face and in his eyes faded, to be replaced with the mask Chiara recognised well.

  She was doing the right thing. She had to do this.

  The tone in Nico’s voice when he spoke was ominous. ‘We’ll talk in the morning.’

  Chiara had said her piece and now just wanted to escape, so she could lick her wounds. She left Nico behind in the reception room and went up to the bedroom. The pain in her back had intensified and she was feeling crampy. She put it down to emotional stress and got ready for bed.

  It was when she was about to get into bed that the first crippling spasm of pain hit her—right across her belly. It was so strong she couldn’t breathe for a long moment. When it had passed she gasped for air, and it was only then that she noticed she was wet. She looked down and for a horrific moment thought she’d wet herself, But then she realised what it was and said wonderingly, ‘My waters have broken...’

  A wholly different kind of panic surged as reality set in and Chiara rushed out of the bedroom, cold and clammy. She went back down to the reception room, but Nico wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the study either.

  By now Chiara was sweating, and she felt another wave of pain about to hit. She doubled over at the bottom of the stairs, groaning. This spasm was longer and more painful. She was also feeling an urge to push, which terrified her.

  She forced herself to breathe deeply and calmly as she checked all the bedrooms, and she was almost giving up hope when she saw a light coming from under the door leading to the gym that Nico had had installed. She pushed open the door and he was there, dressed in sweats, punching a bag with a ferocity she’d never seen him exhibit before.

  She collapsed to her knees as another contraction hit and Nico saw her. He threw off his gloves and rushed over, crouching down.

  She gripped him and got out, ‘Waters broken...contractions...the baby is coming.’

  He looked at her stupidly for a moment, and as the contraction died away Chiara gripped his hand.

  ‘This is what happened to my mother, Nico. She had me here at the castello...then there were complications...she couldn’t have any more children... I’m scar
ed.’

  Nico rose to his feet in a smooth movement, lifting her into his arms. He said grimly, ‘That won’t happen. I’m going to put you in the car and take you to the hospital.’

  Chiara could feel the next contraction coming and said urgently, ‘There’s no time, Nico. She’s coming... I need to push. You have to call an ambulance—they’ll tell you what to do.’

  After Nico had laid her down on the bed he got someone on the end of the phone—a paramedic—and it all became a blur to Chiara. She was in the grip of an elemental force and just had to hang on for dear life.

  All she could do was focus on Nico and do as he told her to do. After what felt like hours of excruciating pain she felt a rush of energy between her legs—a great release—and then she had an image of Nico’s awestruck face as he held his tiny daughter in his hands. There was an impression of flashing lights before she slipped into blessed darkness and relief from pain.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘I’M VERY HAPPY to be able to tell you, Signora Santo Domenico, that all is well. There is no reason why you can’t go home tomorrow.’

  Chiara couldn’t stop the knot of anxiety tightening inside her even though she held her perfect sleeping baby in her arms. ‘There were no complications?’

  The hospital doctor glanced at Nico, who was also in the room. ‘Your husband did tell me what happened to your mother, but, no, happily things have moved on from those days, and there is nothing to worry about. You had a textbook birth—thanks to your husband—and the only reason you fainted was because of pain and shock.’ He patted her hand reassuringly and said, ‘I’ll come back later to check on you, but please don’t worry. Everything is fine.’

  Chiara forced a smile and felt relief wash through her. She knew that everything wasn’t fine, though. She had told Nico that she loved him and it hadn’t precipitated a declaration of anything from him except that she couldn’t leave. She could still recall finding him in the gym, punching that bag with all his might...