It was more torture, more ecstasy than she could withstand. Lacking his self-discipline, she exploded in a million dazzling sparks that left her begging him please, please, to fill the terrible void she’d lived with for so long.
He entered her with an urgency that belied his formidable control. Thrust himself so deep that he touched her soul. “I have dreamed of the way you sigh, as you do now, to let me know I please you,” he rasped at her ear. “And I have longed to feel you close around me and drain me of my strength…” He faltered, drew in a deep, agonized breath. “As you are about to do now…Arlene, mia innamorata…!”
He tensed, shuddered and spilled hot and free inside her. Caught in his frenzied rhythm, she climaxed again, her flesh contracting around his so fiercely that he groaned aloud with pleasure.
It should have been enough to satisfy them, but it wasn’t.
Insatiable, inexhaustible, thrilling, the passion swept them through the quiet hours of the night until, with dawn still too distant to touch the horizon, she finally slept in his arms again, truly at peace for the first time in months.
Cal had the fire blazing in the dining room and the table laid for three when she and Domenico came downstairs, the next morning. “Reckon I don’t need to ask if you got any rest last night,” he commented snidely, dishing out crisp bacon and farm fresh eggs. “The pair of you look plumb wore out.”
Arlene blushed, but Domenico laughed out loud. “I like a man who doesn’t mince his words. In the absence of her biological father, should I ask you for your blessing, Cal? Arlene has agreed to become my wife.”
“Figured somethin’ of the sort must’ve happened. Ain’t never seen her so chipper and rosy,” he said gruffly. “You aim to treat her right, do you?”
“In every way, every day.”
“Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want to have to take you out behind the woodshed and lay a lickin’ on you.”
Since Domenico stood at least six inches taller, the odds of Cal’s being able to carry out his threat were about as slim as his ever needing to try, Arlene thought, burying a smile. Yet despite his apparent satisfaction with the way things had turned out, something wasn’t quite right with her old friend.
“So when’s the wedding?” he inquired, concentrating on his eggs.
“We haven’t set a firm date,” she said, “but we’re thinking early in the new year.”
“Reckon you’ll soon be gone from here, then. Ain’t no reason for you to hang around a dump like this.”
“It’s not a dump!” she exclaimed. “It’s just…a little tired.”
But Domenico, picking up on the real problem, said, “My home’s in Sardinia, Cal, and yes, we’ll live there some of the time, but this is Arlene’s home and marrying me doesn’t mean she has to give it up.”
“We’ve talked about it, and we’re hoping you’ll take charge of things here when we’re away,” Arlene added.
“We understand you’ll need help getting the land back into shape, and exactly who you hire is your choice,” Domenico continued, “but you’re experienced enough to know you’re facing a mammoth task if you want to plant in the spring.”
“And since you can’t be in two places at once, we think it might be a good idea if you hire someone to take care of the household chores.” Arlene looked at him questioningly. “A couple, perhaps? A woman who’ll do the cooking and cleaning, and a man to tend the garden in summer, shovel snow and chop wood in winter. That kind of thing.”
“I’m pretty set in my ways. Don’t know as I’d want strangers underfoot all the time.” Cal scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I could ask my sister, though. She still lives on the Niagara Peninsula where we grew up, but she’s a widow and it’s been pretty lonely for her, the last few years, seein’ as she never had kids and there’s no one left in the family but me.”
“Do you think she’d move out here?”
“Don’t see why not. Ain’t nothin’ keeping her there. And it’d be a shame to let the house go, after all the work you’ve done to make it look nice.”
“We’d cover the cost of the move, of course,” Domenico said, “and pay her a decent salary, just as we will you.”
Cal shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “It ain’t got nothing to do with money. That’s not why I stuck around here all this time.”
“I know that,” Domenico said, “But a man deserves recognition for his loyalty, and Arlene is trusting you to look after her interests while she’s away.”
“But you’re more than an employee to me, Cal,” Arlene was quick to add. “You’re my family, and that brings me to something else I wanted to ask you. Will you walk me down the aisle on my wedding day?”
He stared at her a moment. “You don’t want me, missy. I’m not posh like you. Never have been, never will be.”
“It’s you or nobody—and I’m going to need a strong arm to lean on.”
He pulled a red checkered handkerchief out of his jeans pocket and blew his nose. “You’ll be wantin’ them dogs to be bridesmaids, next.”
“That hadn’t occurred to me,” she said, laughing. “But now that you mention it…! So what do you say, Cal? Can I count on you to be there for me?”
“Have I ever let you down?”
“Not once. I’d never have made it this far, if it hadn’t been for you.”
“Do I have to wear a monkey suit?”
“If I do, you do,” Domenico said, with a grin.
“Where’s this shindig taking place?”
Arlene was about to say they hadn’t decided, but Domenico jumped in before she could speak. “Here. A bride should always be married from her own home.”
“Goin’ to be a pretty small wedding, then. She don’t know anybody in these parts, except me.”
“Well, we haven’t drawn up a guest list, but my family will certainly attend, and there were twenty-three of them at the last count, although it’ll probably be twenty-four by the new year.”
“Spend a lot of time making babies, do they?”
“Among other things, yes.”
“You plan on doing the same?”
Domenico looked at her, his glance so warm and intimate that she blushed again. “As many as Arlene wants.”
“At least two,” she said. “As for guests, I do have friends, Cal. They just happen to live too far away to visit, but I’m sure they’ll come for my wedding. I hope your sister will, too. In fact, why don’t you phone her this morning and sound her out on the idea of moving here?”
“Invite her for Christmas,” Domenico suggested. “Give her the chance to look around the place and see what she’d be letting herself in for.”
Arlene shook her head. “It’s December 23. She’ll never get a flight at such short notice.”
“My jet’s sitting on the runway, not forty kilometers away, cara. My pilot will have her here in time for Christmas Eve, if she chooses.”
“But won’t you be using the jet yourself?”
“Today. For a little while.”
“More than just a little while, surely?” she said, stifling the disappointment welling up at the thought of his leaving again so soon. “It’s a long way from here to Sardinia.”
He raised her hand to his lips. “Who said anything about Sardinia? I’m spending Christmas with you, my love. And if it weren’t that they’ve already made plans, I’d have my family join us. They’re not used to this kind of weather, and the children would so much enjoy the snow. But there’s always next year.” He turned again to Cal. “Make that phone call, Cal.”
“Thank you, Domenico,” Arlene murmured, after Cal left the room. “I hadn’t realized the impact our news would have on him—that he’d feel so…displaced. Thank you for putting his mind at ease.”
“He’s a good man, and I’ll always be grateful to him for being here when you needed him.” He pushed back his chair and dropped a kiss on her mouth. “Much though I’d rather spend the rest of the morning with you, I have to head out to the airp
ort to take care of a little business, but I should be back no later than two or three o’clock.”
“Drive carefully.”
“Always,” he said, and kissed her again. “I have far too much to lose, to do otherwise.”
During the hours he was gone, Arlene first phoned Gail with her news and asked her to be her maid of honor, to which her friend gleefully agreed. Then, with Cal’s sister, Thelma, having reluctantly agreed to spend the holiday with them, but only after much persuasion and her insistence on supplying homemade plum pudding, fruitcake and shortbread, Arlene made a run into town.
Overnight, her solitary Christmas for two had doubled to a festive four, and the roasting chicken she’d originally planned to serve wouldn’t be enough. She stocked up on steaks for that night’s dinner, as well as a ham, a turkey and a few other essentials to see them through the next few days.
Then, with time still hanging heavy on her hands, she went in search of a gift for her guests. She bought a lambswool scarf and bath oil for Thelma, but finding something for Domenico, the man who had everything, proved more difficult. Finally, she settled on a pair of fur-lined leather gloves, and promised herself she’d do better next year.
After lunch, she prepared a guest room for Thelma, making up the bed with freshly ironed sheets, and leaving a couple of magazines on the night table. She hung thick towels in the second bathroom, and put a basket of toiletries on the vanity.
When two o’clock came and still no sign of Domenico, she kept anxiety at bay by baking an apple pie, and preparing stuffed mushrooms and a salad to go with the steaks. She polished a pair of glass candlesticks until they sparkled like crystal, and centered them on the dining table with white candles and the scarlet poinsettia she’d bought in town.
At three-thirty, Domenico finally returned. “I was worried,” she said, flying into his arms. “I thought you’d changed your mind about coming back.”
“Not a chance,” he assured her. “No matter where you happen to be, tesoro, I will always find my way back to you. Now put on a warm jacket and a pair of winter boots, and show me your garden. It is a picture such as I’m not accustomed to seeing.”
They took the dogs and walked down by the lake. The air was crisp and scented with woodsmoke; a Christmas card scene, with the water frozen to a sheen, the sky a pale, cloudless winter blue and the trees draped in snow.
“I’ll miss them,” Arlene said, watching as Sam and Sadie raced along the shore, sleek and swift under their faded plaid coats. “They’ve been such a comfort to me.”
“Would you like to take them to Sardinia?”
“No, they’re Cal’s dogs. They belong here with him.”
“You’ll come back and see them often,” he said, pulling her to a stop near an outcropping of rock. “In the meantime, I have something for you that might take your mind off leaving them. Consider it a promise for the future. Take off your gloves, my love.”
He withdrew from his pocket a watered silk jeweler’s box and opened it to reveal a solitaire diamond ring set in platinum. The fire of its many facets dazzled her. Magnificent in its classic simplicity, it left her breathless. “Where did you get it?” she gasped.
“In Vancouver. I phoned ahead to a jeweler I know of, and flew there this morning to select exactly the right engagement ring. I chose a round brilliant,” he continued, slipping it on her finger, “because I knew it would look perfect on your hand. What do you think?”
She shook her head, at a loss. Where were the words to describe not just the style and quality of the gem, but the man who’d gone to so much trouble to buy it for her? “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and gives me a reason to take better care of my nails from now on. You overwhelm me, Domenico.” Then, thinking of the leather gloves she’d bought for him, she grimaced. “But I don’t have anything to give you that comes close to matching it.”
“Are you happy?”
She drew his head down and brought her mouth to his. “Perfectly!”
“That’s all the gift I need.”
“So happy, I’m almost afraid.”
“Don’t be,” he said, feathering kisses along over her eyelids and down her nose. “We deserve this, Arlene, my love.”
A shout from the house intruded on the moment and, looking up, they saw Cal waving and gesturing from the back door. “Something about a phone call for you, I think,” Domenico said, straining to hear. “It must be important that he’s calling out like that. Go ahead and see what’s the matter, cara, and I’ll get the dogs.”
Slipping and sliding up the steep path, she hurried back. “What is it?” she panted, when she reached the house.
“That doctor you saw the other day just phoned,” Cal said soberly. “Claims it’s important you call him back before the clinic closes, seeing as how today’s the last day it’s open until after Christmas.”
A sliver of fear pierced her bliss. Spread like poison through her body, erasing all the light and joy and leaving nothing but darkness behind. She’d been too happy. Taken too much for granted. And this was her punishment. “Oh, Cal!”
He pressed a scrap of paper into her hand. “This here’s the number, missy. Better get to it and find out what’s going on.”
Peeling off her coat, she closeted herself in the little office off the hall and almost fell into the chair behind the desk. Her hand trembled so badly, she had to punch in the numbers twice before she made the connection, then waited an interminable thirty seconds before the nurse-receptionist put her call through.
Finally the doctor came on the line. “Your blood tests came back, Arlene,” he said.
“I see.” Her voice sounded high, unnatural, almost shrill. “Is there something wrong?”
“That depends.”
Her heart plummeted in her chest, so close to losing its moorings that she felt sick to her stomach. Just when paradise was within her grasp, fate was stepping in to snatch it away again. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Among others, the lab ran a quantitative pregnancy blood test. Your results show a high hCG count—Human Chorionic Gonadotropin. The pregnancy hormone, in layman’s terms.”
She dropped the phone. It hit the desk with a clatter and slithered onto her lap. Fumbling, she picked it up again. “Are you still there?” she heard him ask.
“Yes.” She drew in a steadying breath. “Doctor, are you telling me I’m pregnant?”
“According to what I’m looking at here, very definitely. Didn’t you suspect?”
“No,” she said. “Not for a moment.”
“When was your last menstrual period?”
She thought back, trying to remember. So much had happened in the last two months. “I’m not sure, although now that I think about it, I guess it must have been at the beginning of November.”
“About eight weeks, then. That sounds about right. And you’ve shown no symptoms? No nausea, nothing like that?”
“Not really, no. As I mentioned when I came to see you, I’ve felt more tired than usual lately, but I put that down to overwork.”
“Then I suggest you delegate for the next few months and start taking it easy. You’re showing a nice healthy level of hCG, but it doesn’t pay to take unnecessary chances, especially during the first trimester.” He paused, then asked, “Should I be congratulating you, Arlene, or is this not good news?”
“Its…amazing news! Congratulations are definitely in order. But I don’t understand why it was so urgent that I return your call this quickly. Are you quite certain there’s nothing wrong?”
“Well, we’ll schedule you for a complete checkup after the holidays, just to be sure, although I’m pretty confident everything’s in order. But the party season’s upon us and I wanted to give you a heads-up on alcohol. It doesn’t mix well with pregnancy.”
“Oh!” she said. “No, of course not.”
“That’s it, then. Nothing else to worry about. I’ll see you next week. In the meantime, Merry Christmas!”
“You, too,” she replied and, hanging up the phone, sat a moment, catching her breath and trying to wrap her mind around the news.
She was expecting a baby. Domenico’s baby. And she knew exactly when she’d conceived. The only time they hadn’t used protection had been in Paris on the Friday, when she’d lured Domenico back to bed in the middle of the night.
She cupped her hands over her abdomen. His baby was growing in there. All the time she’d been crying over him, reviling him, missing him, his baby had grown limbs and fingers and toes. It had ears and a dot of a nose, and if it mattered at all, a test could probably determine whether it was a girl or a boy. How could she not have known?
Still trembling, she pushed away from the desk and went to the door. Opening it, she found Domenico and Cal stationed in the hall, waiting for her. Cal appeared haggard. Domenico’s blue eyes had a bruised and hurting look to them.
He rushed forward. Gripped her arm and led her into the living room, with Cal shuffling along behind. “Tell us,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “We’ll deal with it together, Arlene. The best doctors, the best treatment—whatever it takes, it’s yours.”
Oh, she was cruel! “Well,” she said, drawing out the word until she thought Cal might smack her, “there’s really not much that anyone can do to change the way things are. But I do have a Christmas gift for you, Domenico, that more or less puts your lovely diamond in the shade. But it won’t be ready for a few months yet.”
She stopped and smiled sweetly at both of them. “I’m pregnant.”
“The hell you are!” Cal exploded, and fell into an armchair.
Domenico turned positively glassy-eyed. “Pregnant?”
“Yes,” she said. “That means I’m having your baby. Sometime in August, I believe. I’ll be able to give you a more accurate date after I see the doctor, next week.”
Then, because she was brimming over with more happiness than any one body could hope to contain, she started to laugh. “We’re having a baby, Domenico!” she chortled. “And you, Cal, you’re going to be a granddaddy!”
The Italian Billionaire's Christmas Miracle Page 16