The Italian's One-Night Baby

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The Italian's One-Night Baby Page 12

by Lynne Graham


  ‘I’m good at a lot of things,’ Rio husked, all sexual promise and dominance as he rose over her, rearranging her singing body to his satisfaction.

  And if he was set on proving the fact, he proved it as he plunged into her tender depths with passionate force, reawakening her to arousal. Her heart hammered, her adrenalin kicking in as she arched beneath him, deepening his penetration, and suddenly she was greedy to experience every thrilling sensation. He moved faster, lithe and potent. Her excitement climbed with every compelling thrust. Perspiration dampened her skin, a furnace-like heat rising from the heart of her as the desire for fulfilment clawed at her. And then she was there at the summit and the blinding surge of heart-stopping pleasure seized her body and soul. She jerked and shuddered and cried out, thrown over the boundary between reality and fantasy.

  Afterwards, Ellie wrapped her arms tight round Rio, feeling madly affectionate and happy.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Rio asked, tensing.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘I’M HUGGING YOU,’ Ellie said witheringly.

  ‘I don’t do hugs.’

  ‘I do a lot of hugging. You’ll have to get used to it.’ She sighed, blissfully unconcerned by his objection. She loved the hot, damp heaviness of him against her and smoothed her fingers gently down the long line of his spine. ‘If I’m pregnant, you’ll have a child to hug.’

  She felt the charge of tension that stiffened him in her arms.

  ‘That day…you went pale at the prospect too,’ she pointed out sleepily, exhaustion weighing heavily on her.

  ‘Of course I did. I haven’t a clue how to be a parent,’ Rio pointed out feelingly. ‘How could I? I never had one—’

  ‘Just like me. You’ll learn as you go along,’ Ellie told him drowsily, the words slurring slightly.

  Rio lifted his tousled dark head. ‘You can’t go to sleep yet… It’s our wedding night.’

  But Ellie was already sound asleep. He went for a shower and eventually climbed back into bed.

  Ellie wakened while it was still dark and suppressed a sigh. Her sleeping pattern had been disrupted by ever-changing shifts and a regular shortage of sufficient rest while she worked. Knowing that she was unlikely to drift off again, she got up and put on a comfy dress while scrutinising Rio as he lay sprawled in bed. He was taking up more than his share of the space, she noted without surprise. It was as well for him that he could look so good doing it, she acknowledged with tender amusement, noting the black hair curling against the pillow, the angular bone structure shaded in by stubble, the relaxed line of his mouth. Asleep he looked younger than his thirty years.

  Dragging her attention from him, she went downstairs and the first thing she noticed in the sink of the elegant little kitchen was the bouquet of flowers, and guilt shot through her. A trawl through the cupboards produced a vase and she settled the blooms into water and put them on display in the sitting room. A search of the fridge revealed bottled water and savoury pastries and she ate standing up, watching the dawn light rise over the building on the other side of the canal and slowly illuminate the little garden.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Rio asked from behind her.

  Ellie turned her head to take in Rio clad only in a pair of ripped blue jeans, his feet bare. ‘Violet,’ she mused wryly. ‘The old lady who died in the hospice. She loved to see the dawn. If I was on duty I’d open the curtains early for her. I was thinking of how much she would have loved Venice but she never got to travel because her husband liked home best and in her day husbands ruled the roost—’

  Rio grinned. ‘Dare I hope it’ll be the same for us?’

  ‘Wouldn’t hold my breath on that one,’ Ellie advised.

  ‘Why are you out of bed so early?’

  ‘I’ve always been an early riser,’ she confided. ‘But then I’m not used to having the freedom to sleep in. If I wasn’t working the past few years, I was studying for exams. The pressure is constant.’

  Rio groaned out loud. ‘Tell me about Violet while I order breakfast.’

  ‘She was lonely. She’d outlived everyone who mattered to her,’ Ellie told him. ‘She had no visitors. Her nephew came once when she first entered the facility but he didn’t come back. Some relatives can’t handle the last stages of a terminal illness. You can’t judge them for it. We’re supposed to stay detached…and I never thought I’d have a problem with that.’

  ‘Sometimes you get involved whether you want to or not.’

  Ellie squared her slight shoulders. ‘When I had a few minutes free I kept Violet company. That was all. She reminisced about her past and I would listen and it made her happy. Once she was asleep I would tiptoe out again. I knew nothing about her changing her will until her solicitor contacted me after her death,’ she admitted. ‘I couldn’t have accepted anything from her anyway because it’s against the rules of the trust that employed me for medical staff to make a financial gain from patients. Even though I’d turned it down, the nephew made an official complaint against me and the whole business dragged on for months before it got to the enquiry stage and I was officially cleared. Why would I have wanted her money anyway?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Rashad and Polly insisted on paying off my student loans but they also tried to persuade me to accept a large lump sum off them to buy a property. It was very generous of them but I turned it down because, while I can deal with the extravagant gifts they insist on giving me, I don’t want to be the family charity case,’ Ellie admitted ruefully. ‘Polly buys all my clothes as it is, but she’s married to Rashad and I’m not. That’s her life, not mine.’

  ‘And now you’ve got a life with me,’ Rio murmured, tugging her backwards into the circle of his arms.

  ‘I’m not sure how much of a life I can have with a man who thinks I’m after his money.’ Ellie sighed just as a loud knock sounded on the front door.

  Without responding to that leading comment, Rio went to answer it.

  It was a waiter with a covered trolley and at Ellie’s instigation it was wheeled out to the small patio, which was now bathed in early morning sunshine. The screening shrubs in the garden gave it all the charm of a forest glade.

  Ellie poured the coffee. ‘So now you know about Violet. It was a storm in a teacup but it had long-lasting repercussions. Mud sticks. People I trusted made nasty comments. I was worried it would damage my career and I got very stressed.’

  ‘Naturally,’ Rio conceded, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to him that, had she been mercenary, Ellie could have chosen to rely on her seriously rich brother-in-law for financial support. Rashad was very generous and very family-orientated. Had she so desired, Ellie could have given up work and lived the life of a rich socialite. Why had that very obvious fact never crossed his mind at any stage? Had he preferred to think of Ellie as a gold-digger? And if so, why was that?

  ‘That’s why this break in Italy was so important to me. I needed a holiday—’

  ‘And instead you got me—’

  A natural smile tilted Ellie’s lips as she looked at him, lounging back shirtless in his seat, a beautiful, self-assured and ruthless work of art, who continually surprised her. ‘Yes, I got you.’

  ‘When do we find out whether or not you’re pregnant?’ he prompted without warning.

  ‘I was planning to do a test now,’ she confided.

  ‘For yourself?’ Rio queried in visible consternation. ‘No, that won’t do at all. We’ll go and see a doctor, get it done properly—’

  ‘I am a doctor—’

  ‘Sì…’ Rio gave a fluid, very Italian shrug ‘…but this is an occasion and it requires special treatment.’

  Midmorning, following their visit to a very charming private doctor, they sat down to coffee and pastries in the atmospheric Piazza San Marco. Both of them were shell-shocked, Ellie most of all, because she had believed she would recognise some tiny sign and somehow know. But she hadn’t known, hadn’t recognised anything that different w
ith the exception of being more tired than usual, and with all the fuss of the wedding that hadn’t seemed worthy of note.

  ‘So, now we know,’ Rio pronounced without any expression at all.

  And Ellie recognised the dazed light in his eyes and knew that he was just as stunned as she was to learn that he was going to become a parent in a few months.

  ‘I just didn’t really think it could happen that…easily,’ he admitted in an almost embarrassed undertone.

  ‘I’ve met a few distressed teenagers who made the same assumption,’ Ellie admitted, smiling to herself, quietly pleased with the knowledge that she was carrying her first child. And no, their baby hadn’t been planned and was likely to drive a horse and cart through her career choices, but neither of those facts mattered when set beside the wonder of conception, which she had watched give such great joy to Polly and Rashad. She would gladly make space in her life for her child, she acknowledged, recognising that in the blink of an eye after hearing that news that her goals had changed.

  ‘Saying we would make the best of this development if it happened wasn’t the most supportive or sensitive approach,’ Rio conceded belatedly. ‘I want to celebrate now but not only can you not drink, you’ve even been warned off coffee.’

  There it was again, that ability to surprise her that made her love Rio all the more, Ellie reflected. In fact, loving Rio seemed to have been stamped into her genes like a no-escape clause because, of course, she loved him, didn’t know quite when it had happened and certainly not how. She smiled, happiness bubbling through her that he was so flexible, so willing to happily embrace their unplanned baby. ‘I’ll drink decaf—’

  Rio grimaced at the idea for he had a true Italian love of unadulterated coffee.

  ‘There are other ways of celebrating,’ Ellie pointed out, lashes screening her eyes as she covertly studied him, recognising that she would never tire of this particular view. Rio, hair blue-black and gleaming in the sunshine, stunning dark golden eyes welded to her with an intensity she could feel, sprawled back with indolent grace in his seat, his shirt pulled taut across his broad chest, his trousers straining over his powerful thighs. Her mouth ran dry.

  ‘Eat your ice cream, Signora Benedetti. I love your curves—’

  ‘Just as well. My curves will be expanding—’

  A slashing grin curved his sculpted mouth. ‘I can only look forward to it, principessa. But when it comes to celebrating—’

  ‘You could take me out on a gondola,’ Ellie suggested with enthusiasm.

  Rio looked pained. ‘Seriously uncool. That’s a touristy thing—’

  ‘Please…’ Ellie urged.

  And she got her gondola ride the whole length of the Grand Canal. Rio had caved and she was touched. He was much more comfortable sweeping her into a fancy jeweller’s store afterwards, where he insisted on buying her an emerald pendant to mark the occasion. They lunched back at the house and he watched her smother a yawn.

  ‘You should lie down for a while—’

  ‘Only if you lie down with me,’ Ellie murmured softly.

  Disconcerted, Rio flashed her a glance as if he couldn’t quite credit the invitation. But without hesitation he lifted her up out of her seat and crushed her ripe mouth under his own, all the seething passion of his intense sexuality rising to the fore.

  He tumbled her down on the bed but he unwrapped her from her clothes like a precious parcel, pausing to admire and tease what he exposed, and she writhed like a wanton on top of the silk bedspread in the full glare of the Venetian sunlight, utterly lost in passion and equally lost to all shame. He took her from behind then, hands firm on her overheated body as he drove into her with a roughened growl of satisfaction. His urgent rhythm was wildly exciting. Heart pounding, breathing forgotten, Ellie reached a peak and her body detonated in an explosive charge of pleasure. She slumped down winded on the bed with Rio on top of her.

  He released her from his weight and settled down beside her, reaching for her to pull her into his arms.

  ‘Thought you didn’t do hugs,’ Ellie commented.

  Rio splayed a large hand across her flat stomach and said piously, ‘I’m hugging my child.’

  Ellie laughed, feeling amazingly relaxed and at peace. Her fingers lifted and fiddled absently with the emerald she still wore round her neck.

  ‘You can tell me about your uncle now,’ Rio informed her in the tone of someone doing her a favour.

  Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘Jim Dixon? My mother’s brother? I guessed he would be the family member you mentioned. I take it he’s still peddling his sob story about how I ripped him off?’

  ‘You’re not surprised?’

  ‘Jim’s vilified me everywhere and no matter what I said to him, he refused to listen. He doesn’t want the truth. He didn’t get on with my mother and he never liked Polly and me, but my grandmother was living on the poverty line when she agreed to raise us. Our mother gave her a lot of money to take care of us and the arrangement suited them both from that point of view. Unfortunately my uncle always resented us being there.’

  ‘Tell me about the brooch,’ Rio urged with typical impatience.

  ‘Oh, the famous diamond brooch, the family heirloom for several generations and the only item of worth the Dixons ever owned,’ Ellie recounted ruefully. ‘My grandmother sent me a letter during my first term at medical school. In it she told me she wanted me to have the brooch because she was so proud that I was going to be a doctor. She gave it to me the first weekend I was home after that. I didn’t tell Polly, well, I couldn’t bear to—’

  Rio had sat up, glorious dark eyes locked to her expressive face and narrowing. ‘Why not? I thought you and your sister were really close.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Rio, think about it! Polly was the eldest and the brooch should have gone to her if it had gone to anyone!’ Ellie argued. ‘Polly sacrificed her chance to go to art college to get a job and help out financially and when Gran developed dementia, it was Polly who looked after her. She deserved the brooch, not me, and I was astonished enough to get it because our grandmother wasn’t a warm woman. She didn’t neglect or abuse us but she didn’t love us either. Polly would’ve been hurt by me getting the brooch, so I decided to sell it and split the proceeds with her and make up some story about where I got the money from.’

  ‘Women… Why do you always complicate things?’ Rio groaned. ‘A man would just have told the truth. It wasn’t your fault that your grandmother chose to give it to you.’

  Ellie rolled her eyes, unimpressed. ‘But when I tried to sell the brooch, I discovered it was only paste, not real diamonds, which made better sense to me. I mean, why would a poor family have held on to a valuable diamond brooch all those years? It was worth so little that I didn’t bother selling it but I still haven’t told Polly about it,’ she completed guiltily.

  ‘Where does your uncle come into this?’

  ‘Our grandmother left her son the contents of her house when she died and, of course, he assumed that the brooch would be there and when I told him she’d given it to me a couple of years earlier, Jim accused me of being a thief. While Polly was out applying for the death certificate and making burial arrangements, I was wrangling with Jim. I told him the brooch was only a costume piece but he wouldn’t believe me and he stomped off and wouldn’t speak to us at the funeral. A few weeks later he got the police involved,’ she revealed wryly. ‘They came to see me at university. I showed them the letter. They were satisfied—’

  ‘But your uncle wasn’t?’

  ‘No, he’ll probably go to his grave convinced that I deprived him of his prized inheritance. I tried to sort it out with him and he wouldn’t listen and by that stage I was past caring. I was sick and tired of the whole stupid business,’ she confessed.

  Rio traced a fingertip over the shadows below her eyes. ‘You look tired, principessa. Have a nap.’

  He owed her an apology for having entertained the ridiculous idea that she could be a gold-digger, E
llie thought in annoyance, but she was still waiting for that apology. He was far from perfect, she mused, and he was too strong to find it easy to own up to being in the wrong. On the other hand, he had wonderful taste in emeralds, had endured a gondola ride at her behest, was learning to hug and he was happy about the baby, she reasoned with sneaking contentment while swallowing another yawn.

  Rio watched Ellie sleep and heaved a sigh. Had she noticed his moment of sheer panic when her pregnancy was confirmed? His blood had run cold. He had asked himself how he could possibly be a decent parent when his own parents had had more in common with the dregs of humanity. He didn’t know what was in his genes, never would know, but that sort of stuff was important to Ellie. Was that why he still hadn’t told her about the dumpster? Pride? He had always told himself that where he started out didn’t matter; indeed that all that really mattered was where he ended up.

  And where had he ended up? Married to a woman he had treated badly! His sins had come back to find him out and haunt him. So, he had to reinvent himself again, just as he had as a boy, as a young failed businessman, a student and, finally, a success story. He would change and adapt to his new lifestyle. He would be the perfect husband. That was what Ellie deserved. He owed her that. All her life, Ellie had only had her sister Polly to rely on but now she had him. He smoothed a corkscrew curl back from her pale brow, careful not to wake her, and abstractedly wondered if it would be too soon to visit a toy shop. Probably as uncool as that awful gondola ride, he conceded ruefully. But then wasn’t he supposed to be reinventing himself?

  *

  ‘So how do you think my Italian is coming on?’ Ellie enquired in the language.

  ‘You are learning quickly and the accent, it is good,’ Beppe told her cheerfully. ‘Rio must be a better and more patient teacher than I expected.’

  ‘He’s been very patient but we only talk in Italian for a couple of hours a day. I find it exhausting,’ she admitted. ‘But I have a good memory. Outside of maths and science, languages were my best subject.’

 

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