by Day Leclaire
He swore. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry, Shayla. It can’t be good for either you or the baby.”
“I’m not a damn water tap,” she managed to protest through her tears. “It’s not like I can turn it off with a twist of a knob.”
For some reason that made his mouth twitch and a second later she was laughing and crying at the same time. He opened her purse, found a packet of tissues and pulled one out. He dabbed at her cheeks and eyes and nose.
“Listen to me, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re tired. I’m tired. We probably could have picked a better time for this conversation.”
“I needed to be honest with you.”
“I got that. Maybe all that honesty should have come at a slower pace and after a good night’s sleep.” He gave it further consideration. “And maybe accompanied by several shots of Johnnie Walker.”
“Okay.” She leaned back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. Exhaustion rolled across her like fog across the bay. “I’m trying, Draco. I’ve moved out here so our baby will be close to you and the rest of the Dantes. But that’s as far as I’m willing to go. I’m not sure I can handle marriage on top of everything else.”
“Why?” The question exploded from him, hanging in the air.
It took an unbelievable amount of effort just to open a single eye. “I don’t suppose there’s any Johnnie Walker stashed in here somewhere?”
“Am I going to need it?”
“Probably.”
“Hell.” He gave an irritable shrug. “You might as well get it all out. I can’t deal with it if I don’t know what the problem is.”
“That’s what you said last time,” she muttered.
“Go on. Hit me.”
“Okay, here it is . . . . I worked for four long years to carve out the sort of life I wanted. It only took me one night to put an end to that dream.” She splayed her hand across her extended abdomen, gave it a gentle rub. “Don’t misunderstand. I’ll love our baby. I’ll never regret having him.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Him? Now you have me doing it.”
“Trust me. It’s going to be a boy.”
“Fine.” She dismissed that with a flick of her fingers. “The point is, those few months abroad were the best of my life. I was unchained and independent. Until then, I’d never experienced that level of freedom before. Now you want me to marry you. To move in with you. To forcibly create a family. It’s going to be tough enough I’m here in a strange city with a newborn. I’m not sure I can handle marriage on top of everything else. To be honest, I don’t want to lose any more of my independence.”
Draco was silent for a long time and she wondered if she’d offended him again. “You don’t have to handle marriage,” he finally said. “There’s another option.”
Hope blossomed. “What option?”
“We’ll make a premarital agreement. A marriage pact, if that works for you. We marry to give the baby the Dante name, but we don’t have to live together, if you’d rather not.” She caught a certain grimness in his voice, a stoic quality that disturbed her. “It’ll be your choice. If and when you want a real marriage, we can reconsider the possibility.”
“You’d be willing to do that?” she asked in surprise. “Wouldn’t your family notice?”
“It’s none of their business.”
She gave a short laugh. “That might be your opinion and it might be mine, as well, but I’ve discovered that it’s never the opinion of the rest of the family. They always think they have the right to interfere.”
“There’s only one person’s opinion that matters to me and that’s yours. As for my family . . . Don’t worry about them. I’ll keep them off your back.”
She could feel herself softening. She probably should have insisted on revisiting the discussion in the morning when she’d had time to rest and consider. But instead, she found herself nodding. “Okay, I agree.”
He stilled. “You’ll marry me?”
“Yes,” she found herself saying. Clearly, she’d lost her mind.
“Tomorrow?”
Her eyebrows winged upward. “Can we get married that fast?”
“Absolutely. I’ll make the arrangements as soon as we get home.”
Panic built in the pit of her stomach and more than anything she wanted to change her mind. Instead, she nodded. “It’s a deal.”
He gathered her up in his arms. “Since we can’t toast our agreement with champagne, we’ll seal the deal with another time-honored tradition.”
She had a split second to prepare herself before he lowered his head and kissed her, kissed her with a thoroughness that drove every other thought from her head. Their kiss yesterday had been filled with hunger and demand. The one on the plane a gentle benediction. This one was sheer temptation, as though he were reminding her of that wonderfully illicit evening nine months ago when passion had ruled the night and she’d unknowingly surrendered to the ultimate temptation.
Now Draco’s kiss stormed her senses, making her forget everything but this man and this moment. For a brief instant she even forgot the baby tucked safely beneath her heart, a baby who’d been the result of that surrender. A baby born from passion and who would know the love of both parents, as well as countless family members.
For her baby’s sake, marrying Draco was the smart choice. The only choice. But for her own sake?
Before she could consider the question, he reluctantly glanced outside and released her, and Shayla realized they’d arrived. While the driver unloaded their bags, Draco helped her from the car, a process that became more difficult with each passing day. A tip passed from his hand to the chauffer’s and then they were alone.
She took a moment to study his home while she attempted to unknot the muscles in her back. The house stood wide and proud, a stunning multilevel wood-and-glass structure perched high on the hillside with an incredible view of the bay.
“It’s gorgeous,” she murmured.
“Wait until you see the inside.”
He guided her along the walkway to the front door, stuck his key in the lock and flung open the door. Gently, carefully, tenderly, he lifted her in his arms and carried her across the threshold. “Welcome home,” he said.
At the same moment an endless crowd of people jumped out from doorways and closets and from behind furniture, all shouting, “Surprise!”
The instant they realized Draco wasn’t alone, silence descended. All eyes locked on Shayla, or more specifically, Shayla’s belly. Primo stood front and center in the middle of the throng, his golden gaze taking in the situation in a single fierce glance.
“Well,” he said after a long, awkward moment. “It would seem the surprise is on us, eh?”
Chapter Six
Draco watched his wife-to-be take one look at Primo and start babbling. In Italian, no less.
“We’re getting married, I swear. First thing in the morning. Well, not first thing. I have a doctor’s appointment that I don’t think Draco will let me miss. But right after that we’re going straight to a justice of the peace and tying the knot. And don’t blame your grandson. It’s not his fault. He didn’t know I was pregnant and he’s been looking for me for nine months and would have insisted we marry even if I weren’t.” She paused long enough to snatch a quick breath. “Pregnant, I mean.”
Draco gently eased Shayla onto her feet. “So, what’s your surprise?” he asked his family.
Primo locked eyes with Draco, a wealth of information passing between them without a single word being spoken. “Your home. It is finished,” his grandfather announced at last. “We are giving you a surprise hothouse party. The women, they say it is tradition.”
It took Draco a split second to realize that hothouse meant housewarming. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Maybe we can also make it a pre-wedding celebration?”
His gaze swept his relatives, taking in the various reactions ranging from shock to bemusement to out-and-out laughter. Then they closed ranks. After all, they were Dante
s and Dantes protected their own. They swept up Shayla, carried her off and eased her onto a couch, building pillows around her for added comfort. One by one, family members approached and introduced themselves while they plied her with food and friendly get-to-know-you questions.
Primo jerked his head toward the outside deck and Draco released a sigh of regret that he wasn’t also being pillowed and fed—and wouldn’t be any time in the near future. Once they were outside Primo fumbled in his pocket for the cigar he always carried, much to Nonna’s annoyance, not to mention his physician’s. He offered a second to Draco, who knew better than to refuse, given the current circumstances. The two men took their time with the trimming and lighting.
Then Primo devastated Draco with a single look. “You did this to her?”
The words, the look, all had him flinching. “The baby is mine, yes. I’m sorry, Primo. This isn’t the way I’d planned things.”
“I am unaware of the fact that you plan at all.”
The comment stung. Once upon a time it might have been true. But he’d worked long and hard the past decade to prove himself. To overcome the shame of losing the fire diamonds at a time his family teetered on the brink of financial ruin.
Draco fought for patience. “You know The Inferno hit the night of the Eternity reception. And you know Shayla disappeared the next day after we met to discuss leasing the Charleston mines.” He paced to the railing and studied the spectacular view through eyes blinded by the past rather than focused on the present. “I’ve been searching for her ever since she left. Two days ago, I finally found her.”
“You marry tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Not by this justice of the peace, istigatore.”
Draco’s mouth tightened. He’d always been considered a troublemaker by his grandfather. Only time would change that. Or maybe, once labeled, it would never change. “How, when, and where?”
“I will provide you with the place. My place.” Primo stabbed his cigar in Draco’s direction. “A small backyard wedding, yes? With the family. And no city official, but a priest. If we can arrange this for tomorrow, buon. If not, presto. Very soon.” He fixed his grandson with a calculating gaze. “My math, it is good. I can add how many months and weeks have slipped by since the reception. The baby, he will not wait much longer.”
“No, he won’t.”
“And your Nonna, she will cry if il bambino comes into the world without the Dante name to protect him. You know what I do to any man who makes my bellezza weep?” Primo’s eyes glittered with threat and promise. “Would you care to guess, nipote?”
Draco’s mouth settled into grim lines. The same thing he’d do to any man who made Shayla weep. Beat the living crap out of him. “I have a pretty good idea. Trust me, I won’t allow that to happen.”
“Buon, buon.” Primo clapped his hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I know you have searched for your Inferno mate these many months. Luc tells me you asked Juice to help find her the very night you lost her. You have done right in this. But you should not have taken her to your bed without first putting your ring on her finger. To do so dishonors the two of you, not to mention your family. You know this now, yes?”
“Sì, Primo. Sono spiacente,” he apologized.
A smoke trail swept in the direction of the relatives clustered in the living room. “Your family, we will all stay a short while longer, then leave you and Shayla. She needs rest so she does not have the baby before the priest blesses your union. As for the preparations for the ceremony, Nonna and I will take care of these.”
Draco inclined his head. “Grazie. Shayla and I will arrange for a license tomorrow.”
Primo proved himself as good as his word. Within the hour, everyone pitched in to sweep the house clean of clutter and debris. Leftover food disappeared into Draco’s cavernous refrigerator, neatly wrapped and labeled. Hugs and kisses were freely dispensed. Then, one by one, the Dantes departed.
An abrupt silence crashed down around Draco and Shayla, strumming to life an unexpected awkwardness. “Why don’t I show you the house,” he suggested in an effort to break the intensity of the moment.
Shayla seized on the suggestion with patent relief. “I’d like that. I feel like I’ve been sitting forever.”
He took her through the house, pleased by her sincere pleasure and delight at the vaulted ceilings, open spaces, and endless windows that offered spectacular views of Angel Island, Belvedere, and the bay. The instant he realized exhaustion had replaced enjoyment, he urged her upstairs, where he intended to tuck her into bed as soon as possible.
He opened the door to the master bedroom. “You’re welcome to join me in here.” One look at her face gave him the unwelcome answer to that suggestion. “But perhaps you’d be more comfortable in this room.”
He led her past a tightly closed door toward a bedroom at the far end of the house from the master suite. She paused outside of the middle room. “What’s in here?” she asked.
“Another bedroom,” he said dismissively. “It doesn’t have a private bath, so—” He attempted to urge her past, but she didn’t budge from her position.
Pulling free of his arm, she opened the door and stepped inside. Her breath caught. He’d hoped to inspect the room before showing it to Shayla since he’d only given the decorator and his cousin’s wife, Ariana, two days to complete it and hadn’t been certain whether their efforts had met with success.
Draco entered behind Shayla and discovered his demands had not just been met, but exceeded. Whimsy ruled. Silly abounded. Wondrous had ventured into the nursery and nestled in to stay. Shayla wandered deeper into the room, touching the lace-edged changing table with its silly mobile hanging above it. Real and imaginary creatures dangled in every imaginable position from the strings. Some clung for dear life, others hung by wings or toes, one by its tail, each with comical expressions.
The walls were the only part of the room left incomplete, he noted, and blessed Ariana for what she’d been able to finish. Three were painted to resemble a magical forest, rife with playful fairies and trolls and other fantastical creatures. Anyone who saw them would instantly identify them as the work of Ariana’s alter ego—Mrs. Pennywinkle, children’s book author and illustrator. But the one behind the crib remained notably blank.
Oh, well. He’d tried. And he could guarantee she had, as well. Considering how surprised the family had been by Shayla’s pregnancy, it was clear Ariana had acceded to his wishes and remained mum about his request for a nursery, even from her husband, Lazz. His mouth curved into a wry smile. Though she hadn’t warned him about the housewarming party, no doubt her way to balance the scales.
For the rest of the room, Draco had recommended yellow as the overriding color since it echoed one of the blankets Shayla had made for the baby. The crib was simple and sturdy and rated the safest on the market, the rocking chair positioned adjacent to it the most comfortable money could buy. A baby monitor stood at the ready.
She crossed to the dresser and opened a few of the drawers to reveal garments so tiny it made Draco nervous to imagine their having a baby who could fit into them. Last of all, she opened the louvered closet doors to reveal colorful containers overflowing with toys.
He shifted in place. “I might have gotten carried away.”
She glanced over her shoulder and lifted an eyebrow. “Might?”
He blew out his breath. “Did.” He shot an uneasy glance around the room, striving to see it through Shayla’s eyes. “I guess I should have waited so you could have some input.”
She turned to regard him through watchful eyes. “How much input did you have? You only found out about my pregnancy, what? Two days ago?”
Was she upset because he hadn’t included her in the decision making? He shrugged. “I wish we could have chosen everything ourselves, but I wasn’t sure there’d be time before the baby was born.” His mouth quirked into a smile. “I did some research and explained to the decorator what I wanted, I gather at g
reater length and with more detail than any other room in the house. At least, that’s what he finally told me.”
Shayla approached. To his surprise, she folded her arms around his neck and tugged him down for a slow, sweet kiss. “Thank you. This is amazing. It’s also absolutely perfect.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I know you want your own place. But maybe for the first few months it would work best to stay here where I can help.”
She surprised him again by nodding. “That sounds reasonable. I don’t have a problem living with you for the time being so long as you stick to our pact and I can move into my own place when I’m ready.”
It wasn’t a total surrender, but it gave him time. Time to convince her to turn “for the time being” into plain old forever. To create a real marriage together and a real family. Maybe he could prove he’d never confine her, but would give her the freedom she craved to accomplish new goals. Craft new dreams. Better dreams. Somehow, someway, he needed to provide her with all the things she lacked so she’d stay instead of run.
Slow down, Dante. First things first, and patience would be at the top of his to-do list, even though it was in seriously short supply these days. He inclined his head toward the door. “Why don’t I show you your room?” he offered with an easy smile.
He ushered her into the room next to the nursery. It was smaller than his but with a private bath, small sitting area and cantilevered redwood deck that wrapped around the house and connected with his bedroom. He’d considered having a door cut into the nursery so it accessed the deck, as well, but decided against it for safety reasons.
“We can move the crib and rocker in here temporarily if that would be easier for you,” he offered.
She nodded and he caught a flash of exhaustion buried in her eyes. “Thank you. I’d prefer that.”
He swept back the bedcovers with one hand and gathered her up with the other. “We can decide all that later. Right now, you need sleep. Dr. Dorling would be furious if he knew we hadn’t tucked you in the instant we arrived.”