What would Nico think? He’d said he would consider letting her work for him, but she didn’t imagine he would do so anytime soon. More likely, he’d said it to appease her because he’d made no mention of it since the plane ride back from Gibraltar.
When she let herself into the apartment, she could hear Nico’s voice coming from the open door to his home office. He did not sound happy and she stopped, unsure whether to turn around and leave again until he was finished or to let him know she was home.
But the cold tone of his voice with its underlying hint of despair had her moving forward until she stopped in the living area, her heart pounding in her throat. Her progress ceased when she heard a woman’s voice.
The woman sounded haughty. She had the cultured tones of an aristocrat, and she seemed very angry. It took Tina a moment to realize that her voice was coming from the speakerphone.
“You are an ungrateful son, Niccolo,” she snapped. “I sacrificed everything I had for you.”
“What did you sacrifice, mother? As I recall, it was very little.”
She sniffed. “You’re just like your father. You don’t care about me at all. You took his side against me. You always did.”
“I did not,” Nico growled. “I was a child. I had no idea who was right or who was wrong. But I knew one thing, and that was that neither of you seemed to want me around.”
“It was difficult,” his mother said after a long silence. “We pretended for your sake until you went to school. There was little point in it afterward.”
“Yes, and when I begged to be allowed to come home, you were always unavailable for some reason or other. Traveling abroad or checking into a spa. How difficult life was for you, Mother.”
Tina’s heart ached to hear him sound so bitter. And she ached for the little boy he must have been, so lonely and unwanted. How cruel this woman was! And how Tina wanted to wrap her hands around his mother’s neck and squeeze. What kind of mother did that to her child?
“It is difficult now,” she said. “I put up with your father’s philandering for years. The humiliation. But I always knew I would be taken care of in my old age. And now you have inherited and I’m begging for alms at your feet.”
“You are not a beggar,” Nico said, his voice a harsh growl full of emotion that stunned her with its intensity. “You have a very generous allowance, and you will live within your means from now on. I will not allow the Gavretti holdings to be siphoned off and sold piecemeal in order to gratify your urges.”
“That is ridiculous,” she said. “There is no danger of that. You are simply a cruel and ungrateful son who would see his mother suffer rather than take care of her needs.”
“It’s time this conversation was over,” Nico said.
“But I’m not finished—”
“I am.”
His mother didn’t speak again, and Tina knew he must have hung up on her. She walked to the entrance of the office, a lump in her throat. How awful it must have been to grow up with a woman like that, a woman who’d had no warmth for her child. Tina may not have known her father, but her mother was the most effusive and lovely person on the planet.
Mama had done everything possible to keep her and Renzo fed and clothed and happy. The only harsh words in their home came when someone was upset or angry over something—but they were gone quickly, and everyone was happy again. Tina had never felt like a burden to her mother, even when she probably had been at times.
Nico sat with his head in his hands and her heart squeezed hard at the sight of him like that. He looked defeated, the weight of his worries pressing down hard on those strong shoulders.
Something twisted inside her then, something that stole her breath and made her stomach sink into her toes. She stood there as a maelstrom of emotion whipped her in its currents. Everything she had within her wanted to go to him and put her arms around him. To hold him tight and tell him that someone loved him even if his mother did not.
Tina pressed her hand to her mouth. She’d just told herself all the reasons why she did not love him. And yet none of them made sense any longer. Not in light of the feeling swelling in her heart.
But it couldn’t be love. Sympathy. Yes, it had to be sympathy. She couldn’t bear to see him hurting like this, and it made her want to hold him close and soothe him.
She must have made a sound, a sniffle as she tried to keep from letting any of the tears welling in her eyes fall, because he looked up, his dark gaze clashing with hers.
“I didn’t know you were home,” she said lamely, her body trembling with the force of the feelings whipping through her. She felt as though she’d tumbled over the edge of a cliff and there was no going back. She couldn’t seem to find her equilibrium.
He pushed to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked uncomfortable, restless. “I finished my meetings early.”
She wanted to reach out to him, take him in her arms. But she didn’t think he would welcome it. She tried to smile as if everything were normal. As if her heart weren’t breaking for him.
“I went to lunch with my friend Lucia. It was nice to get out for a while.”
The look on his face told her that she probably shouldn’t have added that last bit. It was an innocuous enough statement, and yet it sounded as if she’d been feeling trapped.
“Do I make too many demands on your time?” His tone was dangerously cool. She knew he was only lashing out because he was still angry over the conversation with his mother.
“That’s not what I meant. You’ve had so many meetings lately and it was nice to see my friend. That’s all.”
He shoved a hand through his hair and turned away. “I have work to do, Tina.”
She walked over and stood behind him. She started to put a hand on his arm, but thought better of it. “Do you want to talk, Nico?”
He spun on her. “About what?” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the phone. “About my mother? There is nothing you can say, cara, that will change the situation.”
Tina took a deep breath. “No, I didn’t think I could. But you’re obviously upset about it. Sometimes it helps to talk.”
His laugh was harsh and bitter. “You know nothing of my life, Tina. Nothing. You can’t just come in here and ask me to talk and think it will make everything better.”
“I didn’t say it would make it better. I said that sometimes it helps.”
“You are a child,” he spat at her. “A naive woman who knows nothing of relationships. You grew up sheltered by your family and loved no matter what. What would you know about a life like mine? My only value to my parents was that I was a boy and an heir.”
His words stung her to the core, and yet she refused to walk away. She didn’t know what it was like to be shuffled between parents, but she did understand what it was like to feel lonely. Though how could she compare her loneliness to his? She couldn’t and she knew it.
“If it makes you feel better to heap scorn on me, then fine. Do it.”
He stared at her for a long minute, his eyes flashing with pain. And then he swore as he took a step backward. “Just go, Tina. Leave me alone. I’ll get over it soon enough.”
Tina was sitting on the terrace with a cup of tea and her phone, texting Faith and pretending that everything was well. Faith sent pictures of Renzo and baby Domenico that caught at Tina’s heart and made her ache with longing for what they had.
She didn’t know if she and Nico would ever have that, but she could hope. Though it seemed a somewhat futile hope at the moment, she had to admit.
She felt guilty sending texts back and forth with no mention of her pregnancy and marriage, but it was clear that her brother didn’t yet know. Thankfully. She couldn’t imagine how angry he would be when he did, but she was certain it was going to be bad.
Faith had asked her to fly out and join them, but Tina refused, saying she and Lucia had plans to go to Tenerife. She felt bad telling a lie, but sending a text with the truth wasn’t quite how s
he envisioned breaking the news to her family.
Finally, the texts ended and she sat and looked at the dome of St. Peter’s in the distance. The bells sounded the hour while below the apartment she could hear the traffic whizzing by and the occasional shouts of people greeting or cursing each other in the street.
Rome was always bustling with activity. She loved the city, but right now she felt as if she would like to be somewhere quieter, more placid. Castello di Casari. She could still picture the beauty of that pergola—and the look in Nico’s eyes when he’d got down on one knee to propose. It hadn’t been real in the sense that they’d been in love, but he sure had made her believe for a second there.
“Tina.”
She turned toward his voice. He stood in the terrace doors, watching her. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulder leaning against the door frame. He looked delicious, as always, and a tiny thrill flared to life in her belly. He was wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned to show a slice of skin, and a pair of faded jeans with loafers.
He walked over to her and stood beside her chair, not looking at her, but gazing out at the city lights. She wanted to twine her hand in his and press it to her cheek. Love, a voice whispered. You love him.
No, not love. Sympathy.
“Finish your work?” she asked brightly. She would not let him see how much he’d hurt her by shutting her out earlier.
He pulled a chair out and sat across from her. “Sì.” He didn’t say anything for a long minute. And then he pulled a small box from his pocket and set it on the table between them. When she didn’t say anything, he pushed it toward her.
Her heart began to thrum. “What’s this?” She took the velvet box, but she didn’t open it.
“An apology,” he said. “And something I neglected to do.”
She popped the top open and stared. The diamond inside caught the light and refracted it, sparkling in the Roman dusk. It was at least six carats, she decided. And it was surrounded by yet more diamonds. A very expensive and elegant ring.
“It’s beautiful.” It was true, and it made her heart ache. Perversely, she wanted it to mean something to him. But it didn’t. He’d bought her a ring and now he was giving it to her along with an apology. As if the way to make up for not trusting her enough to talk to her was to buy her things.
Silly, silly Tina. But what had she expected?
He took the box from her and removed the ring. Then he slipped it onto her hand and she pulled it closer, turning her hand this way and that to catch the light.
“If you don’t like it, you can pick something else.”
She shook her head. The ring was gorgeous, and definitely something she would have chosen for herself. It wasn’t modest or understated, but it wasn’t gaudy, either. It was elegant, the kind of jewelry worn by a marchesa.
“Thank you,” she said, keeping her eyes downcast so he wouldn’t see the hint of sadness in them. He’d given her a wedding ring, but it didn’t feel as if it meant anything to him. It was just one more thing to check off his list of things to do. And a way to soothe any hurt she might be feeling over the way he’d treated her earlier.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said, as if on cue.
“You were upset.”
“Nevertheless, it was not your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” She shrugged and played with her phone where it sat on the table. “Who am I to give advice? I’m pregnant and married and I still haven’t told my family. Until I solve my problems, I probably shouldn’t attempt to give advice on yours.”
“Your family loves you, Tina. Renzo loves you. He’s going to be angry, not because of what you’ve done, but because of who you’ve done it with. But he won’t stop loving you.”
It was her turn to be taken aback. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how you can possibly know that. He hates you, and I’ve betrayed him.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think he’ll stop loving me. But he won’t want to see me.”
He blew out a breath. “Why did you tell me about the baby? You didn’t have to. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have to worry about what happens next.”
The lump in her throat hurt, but she swallowed it down. “I can’t believe you’re asking me this when you wouldn’t talk to me earlier.” She spread her hands on the table, shaking her head. “But I’ll tell you. I’ll prove that you can talk about the things that bother you and the world won’t end if you do. I told you about the baby because I grew up without a father. I always wanted to know who he was, but my mother wouldn’t tell me. And I was determined that wouldn’t happen to this child. I didn’t expect you’d insist on getting married, however.”
His eyes flashed. “No, you thought we’d live separate lives and I’d come visit the baby from time to time. When it was convenient, of course. And only so long as your brother didn’t decide to prevent it.”
She wanted to deny it, but the truth was that’s exactly what she’d thought. She’d thought it would be so easy, that she would tell him she was pregnant, tell him she wanted nothing from him, and they’d arrange civilized visitation as the baby grew. She’d known Renzo wouldn’t approve, but she’d intended to put her foot down.
She dropped her gaze from Nico’s. “I won’t deny it,” she said. “I truthfully didn’t think you’d be interested in being a father. I had hoped you would want to be a part of the baby’s life, but I didn’t expect it.”
“I’d ask what gave you that idea, but I’m sure I can guess.”
They both knew he’d been quite a fixture in the tabloids over the years. “You haven’t exactly had any long-term relationships.”
“In my experience, they don’t work out.”
A pinprick of pain throbbed in her heart. “Is that from personal experience or from observation? Because I’d say the two are not interchangeable.”
He looked resigned for a moment. Uncertain. But then his expression hardened again. “My parents have rather warped my view of what a marriage is supposed to be.”
“They are only two people,” she said. “They don’t represent everyone.” She didn’t even want to think about how his views impacted their marriage.
He shook his head. “Nevertheless, they are what I grew up with. They should have divorced years ago, but they stayed together instead and made each other miserable.”
“And you,” she added softly.
She expected he’d grow angry but he only ran his palms over his face before spearing her with a glare. “And me. Yes, they made me miserable. They still do.”
“Why did you marry me, Nico?” She had to ask, in light of what he’d said about his parents’ marriage.
He looked away, as if he couldn’t quite face her at that moment. “You know why.”
“Yes, I suppose I do. But what happens after the baby is born?”
He shrugged. “We take it a day at a time, Tina. I can promise you I won’t ever let this child feel the way I felt. And I’m confident you won’t, either. We’ll figure something out, and we’ll be far better parents than I had.”
Her heart thumped. He was actually talking to her, though she didn’t know for how long. “I appreciate that. And I think I understand now.”
“Understand what?”
She shrugged self-consciously. “You looked uncomfortable when Giuseppe expressed his sympathies for your father’s death, and later, when I did, as if you didn’t want them but felt you had to accept them anyway.”
He didn’t say anything for a long minute. He just stared at her, his nostrils flaring as if he were holding in a great deal of emotion. “The truth is that I despised him. But not always. I worshipped him for years, craved his affection—yes, even beyond my mother’s. She’s right about that. I did side with him when I grew older. She was so … bitchy and petty, while he seemed regal, controlled. But I soon realized he only cared about himself.”
Tears sheened her eyes. She didn’t care if he saw them. She reached for his hand, squeezed it tight. �
��I’m sorry, Nico.”
He didn’t jerk his hand from hers. Instead, he squeezed their palms together. “I wanted what you had,” he said, the words almost choked from him. “I came to your place so often because I wanted to be a part of what your family had together. Your mother is kind, accepting. I loved sitting at the kitchen table with all of you and eating dinner. It felt far more real than anything else in my life at that time.”
“I loved having you there,” she admitted. “I think we all did. Renzo looked upon you like a brother.”
He pulled his hand away then, and she regretted the impulse to say such a thing. But it had been the truth. He and Renzo had been so close, and now they weren’t.
And now he was closing up again. Closing in on himself like an exquisite flower that only bloomed for a few hours and then shut the world out once more.
“It was a long time ago,” he said stiffly.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It could be that way again. If only you and Renzo would talk—”
“Maledizione,” he swore, rocketing to his feet, his entire body vibrating with anger. She could only stare up at him in shocked fascination. “Don’t you understand? I am a Gavretti. I ruin everything I touch.”
He turned and stalked inside while she sat helplessly and stared at the suddenly shimmering dome of St. Peter’s in the distance.
Not everything, she hoped.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHY had he told her those things? Nico paced inside the darkened study, angry with himself for letting her see that far into him. He hated being vulnerable. He’d sworn to himself, when he’d been eight years old and crying because his mother wouldn’t let him come home on a school break, that he would never let anyone see how much he hurt ever again.
It was about survival. About appearing strong and self-sufficient. The world couldn’t exploit what it didn’t know. If he appeared strong, then he was strong.
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