Kitabı oku: «The Italian Surgeon's Secret Baby», sayfa 2

CHAPTER TWO

ELENE WAS ONLY vaguely aware of the mansion Mattia drove up to, barely noticed the wide expanse of wall hanging off the hill, her mind busy, racing from Mattia to Aimee to sleep and back again. Once inside, the heat fell away under the onslaught of air conditioning, but she couldn’t find the energy to take in what was in front of her. In her arms, Aimee was busy squirming and staring around, making up for her lack of interest.

Ahead, Mattia paused. Her case swung from one large hand, the stroller from the other. ‘I’ll show you which bedroom you’ll use. There’s a cot in the basement my niece and nephew used when they were a similar age.’

‘That’s a bonus. Aimee will be safer in a cot than on a bed with pillows tucked around her. She’s a restless sleeper.’

‘Shall I put it in the same room as you?’

‘Please. So far she’s doing okay, but being in an unfamiliar room without me on hand could exacerbate her mood.’ The last thing Aimee was about to do was go to sleep; not after the hours she’d put in getting here, while the only thing Elene wanted to do was pull bedcovers over her head and succumb to the lethargy tugging at every cell and not reappear for twenty-four hours. But, hey, that was never going to happen. Not now she was a parent.

‘Let’s get this sorted so you can relax.’ Once again Mattia was striding away and she scurried to keep up.

How long this unusual politeness would last was anyone’s guess. Elene looked around the bedroom he led her into. It was huge and even this late in the day still warm from the sun. A bonus was the attached bathroom. ‘Perfect.’ She’d better not get too comfortable. This was a short-term fix.

‘Glad you’re happy with it.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ No clues in that inscrutable face staring at her. ‘I’ll start phoning around hotels tomorrow so we can get out of your way as soon as possible.’

‘Leave it for a day or two.’

So he wasn’t inviting her to stay for the whole time she was here, but then he didn’t know how long that was, or if she even intended returning to New Zealand. ‘We’re heading home in three weeks.’

His tense stance appeared to relax a fraction, but that could’ve been the play of light from the overhead lamp causing her to think so. Of course he didn’t want her here, had yet to come to terms with Aimee—if he accepted his role in her life. There were many hours ahead for him to come up with lots of questions, demands and denials. The questions she was prepared for. The demands not so much; they worried her enough to make her shake in her shoes, but until she heard them she couldn’t fight them. As for the denials, she’d wait and see.

‘Are you intending staying in Sorrento the whole time?’ He spoke as though holding his breath—as if her answer was important.

‘That depends on you and how things go. I have family outside Florence I might catch up with.’ The trains were reliable and fast, and would make travelling with Aimee a doddle. ‘But this trip isn’t about them.’

‘I’ll arrange transport if you decide to head up there.’

Typical. ‘I am perfectly capable of organising a couple of train tickets, thanks all the same.’ Take it easy. He mightn’t be on the ward now, but there was no need to antagonise him when he was offering help. She wasn’t thinking straight, there was so much fog in her head. Why else did she keep noticing that flat belly and wide chest? Presumably he’d had them when she knew him before and they hadn’t impacted on her in any way then. Oh, yeah? Who do you think you’re fooling?

‘I wasn’t thinking trains.’

They’d be beneath him. Stop it. ‘Let’s leave it until I’ve caught up on sleep and can think straight.’

‘Done. I’ll get the cot.’ Within minutes Mattia returned with a large square bag which he emptied onto the carpet before assembling the cot like a pro.

‘You’ve done that more than once.’ Elene aimed for friendly as she plugged in the nightlight disguised as a plastic teddy. ‘How many nieces and nephews have you got?’

‘One of each, both aged two and a half, and there’re two more bambini on the way.’ He glanced sideways down to Aimee, now crawling towards her bed. ‘She doesn’t look much like her mother.’

‘Except for the curls.’ Those were definitely Danielle’s.

‘Danielle always complained about hers.’ His tone was wistful. ‘Despite what you thought, I liked her a lot. We got on well, but the friendship was never going further than those few weeks.’

Time to fess up. ‘I know.’ When his eyebrows lifted she hastened to explain. ‘I didn’t at the time. I truly thought you’d hurt her, but later Danielle explained she’d only wanted a fling, same as you.’

‘She’d had a few flings. Why was it any different with me?’

Elene struggled to come up with an answer. She’d just always been anti about Danielle and Mattia. Shrugging, she admitted, ‘I don’t know. She was happy, especially when you stood up to that drunk for her.’

Mattia nodded. ‘He’d been ogling her all night in the pub, making her very uncomfortable. When he came across and made lewd comments I’d had enough and suggested we go out the back for a discussion.’ Flicking his forefingers in the air, he emphasised ‘discussion.’ ‘He declined.’

‘Go you.’ So chivalry wasn’t dead. But she wouldn’t expect it to be with a man like Mattia. One thing she couldn’t dispute: he was a gentleman and treated women as they deserved. Except they’d always rubbed each other up the wrong way. Was she in denial? Had there been sparks at other times than that one night she’d tamped down hard because he was seeing her friend? He was tall, good-looking in a dark and dangerous way, intelligent, funny, and—No. She was not noticing anything like that about him. No way. She looked around for something else to focus on.

Aimee was using the cot to pull herself up onto her feet. She slipped and banged down on her bottom.

Elene waited for the indignant shriek that usually accompanied a fail. Instead Aimee turned on her toothless grin and reached for the cot to start over. ‘She’s happy to be free of constraints.’

Mattia was watching his daughter, disbelief and something else on his face. Longing? He hadn’t touched Aimee yet. Not even a finger on her arm. Holding himself back until he’d thought through all the connotations? Afraid of where this might go? Still in denial? Who knew? She certainly didn’t, and right now working it out was beyond her.

For her own sake Elene felt a little bit glad he wasn’t rushing to fall in love with his daughter, if he accepted who she was. Being here was about deciding where Aimee should live and with who, though she was determined that would be her, but denying Mattia fatherhood wasn’t happening either. Bending down, she swung Aimee up to hold her out to her father. ‘Here. You look after her. I need to shower.’

* * *

Mattia automatically caught Aimee in his steady hands. Not that Elene would’ve let her drop, but he hadn’t even thought about not taking her. Holding his daughter out, he watched her kicking her legs and banging her hands on his arms, her face split in a gummy smile as she eyed him up. Hope I pass the test. Gulp. Really? Of course really. He was her father. He didn’t need a DNA test to prove that. Gut instinct brought about by the family likeness and Elene’s honest demeanour, even without putting it into words, told him all he needed—or didn’t need—to know.

‘Hello,’ he croaked around a tennis ball lodged in his throat.

‘Ma-ma-ma-ma.’

‘Is that right?’ A smile was stretching his mouth without any input from his brain. ‘You’re beautiful.’

‘She won’t break,’ came a crisp quip from behind.

What? Oh, hold her against me. Was that what Elene was telling him? ‘Thought you were going for a shower.’ He glanced over his shoulder and saw the apprehension blinking back at him. She was worried about this development. What exactly was her role in Aimee’s life? Number one question to go on the list he suspected would be pages long before many hours passed. Elene’s usually sparkly green eyes were now dark, like the ocean depths. Her tiny, curvy body had shrunk ever smaller.

Trying to reassure, not that he knew what he was comforting her about, he said softly, ‘Go on. I’ll take Aimee out to the family room. Promise I know what I’m doing.’

The tip of her tongue played with the corner of her mouth, tightening his groin again. Then she nodded and headed to the bathroom. Those loose trousers did nothing to hide the curves of her butt, nor the slimmest of waists. An hourglass figure finished off with full breasts that he’d tried not to let his gaze linger on when she’d held Aimee against them.

Aimee. Dragging his attention away from Elene he refocused, bending his arms slowly, bringing Aimee closer and closer until she was against his chest, wriggling like a worm on hot concrete. This was so different to holding Marco or Giulia. This was—parenthood with a capital P. He jerked. I really am Papà. Being a parent meant being involved with a woman, a need Sandy had permanently finished off. Though apparently life had other ideas for him.

Air whooshed out of his mouth, ruffling the curls on top of his daughter’s head. He dropped a kiss on them. ‘Let’s get you some dinner, little one.’ Elene might like a meal too. He was starving. Lunch had been a quick bite hours ago, between a hip replacement and a shoulder reconstruction.

After placing Aimee on the floor out of harm’s way, Mattia poured two glasses of Sangiovese, put one on the table for Elene and studied the contents of the fridge. Anna, his housekeeper, kept it well stocked and there was a prepared meal to reheat, but not enough for two. It’d do for tomorrow’s lunch. Tonight he’d make comfort food, using the pasta dough Anna had also prepared earlier. Elene deserved a little care and attention. That was some trip she’d undertaken with a toddler. For her friend. For him? Something about that deep sadness in her eyes suggested yes to both. Bet she was wondering what he’d do, and where that’d leave her.

Hell. He combed his fingers through his hair. As reality trickled into his brain he tried not to overthink things. They had a lot to process. But not tonight. Because Elene was tired, and lovely and gorgeous. Don’t forget the snippy woman behind that exhaustion. She wouldn’t have stayed back in Wellington while this softer, kinder version made the trip.

Checking Aimee was still happy playing with the coloured wooden blocks he’d given her, he set about putting together the ingredients for an Alfredo sauce. The clock boomed out eight o’clock. Half an hour had passed since he’d brought Aimee through here. Had Elene fallen asleep in the shower? Should he check on her? Entering the bathroom might bring back the more familiar version.

‘Sorry.’ Elene burst through the doorway, her chest rising and falling as though she’d run through the house. ‘That’s one powerful shower. I’ve probably used all your hot water, but it was worth it. All the aches gone, leaving me feeling normal again.’

She certainly looked it. Standing tall for someone so short, her face was relaxed for the first time since he’d discovered her in his waiting room, her gaze clear of worry; she looked alert. Hot and sexy normal. The spoon he stirred the sauce with clattered into the pot. This is Elene. She doesn’t do sexy. Not around him, any rate. She did once.

With effort he rolled a shoulder. ‘There’s a glass of Sangiovese on the table. One of Italy’s best secrets.’ Getting back on track was essential. For his sanity, for the days ahead when they’d no doubt be battling over childcare issues. She’d once called him a fly-by-night. Well, Miss Lowe, I’m going to prove how wrong you were. He had not liked her contemptuous opinion of him, even when he’d understood she was trying to protect Danielle.

Not that he’d deny he’d spent a year living loosely after his fiancée, Sandy, had stolen from his charity and attempted to bring his esteemed family into disrepute by accusing him of taking the funds and setting her up to take the fall. Except Sandy was the one to languish in jail. His family had pushed him to take a year off and go live a little, put his mistake behind him. He’d gone reluctantly, the guilt heavy, but it seemed his parents knew what they were doing. New Zealand, with its great outdoors culture and the easy lifestyle, had been liberating and exciting. Yet from the day he’d landed back on Italian soil he’d been determined never to cause a ripple of trouble for his family again and got on with achieving his interrupted goals. With the exception of one—loving a woman enough to marry her and have bambini. His gaze drifted to Elene, now savouring the wine.

‘Delicious.’ Elene gave him a smile that slid under his skin as easily as cream over hot pie. ‘I haven’t had a Sangiovese since I was last in Italy.’

‘How long ago was that?’ Might as well learn as much as possible while she was in a good mood.

‘Three years. I worked at a hospital in Firenze most of my stay. Loved every moment.’ Another sip, and those full lips were momentarily rich, dark red.

Mattia’s belly tightened. He took a large gulp from his glass. Should not have brought her here. Oh, yes, and what was he supposed to have done when she had nowhere to go? Another mouthful and he reached for the bottle. This was going to be a long night, followed by some long days, and more nights. ‘You had a licence to practice here?’

‘I did, and I’ve kept it up. Easier than having to redo it further down the track if I decided to revisit my family.’

That might come in handy for the future. ‘Your mother’s Italian, right?’ He vaguely remembered something about Elene’s heritage after she’d spoken to him in Italian once in Theatre.

Elene nodded. ‘When she was two her parents moved to New Zealand. Years later she met my dad, who owned a vineyard with his brother in Masterton. Now one of my younger sisters is the winemaker and my parents are happy dishing out advice and being grandparents.’

Grandparents? To his daughter? How did they feel about Elene bringing Aimee over here to meet him and his family? He wasn’t asking. There’d been enough shocks for one day. Time to relax and enjoy dinner—and the company. ‘So you’ll be a pasta fan, then.’

‘Duh.’ Her deliberate eye-roll made him laugh.

‘What about all that lamb and beef Kiwis seem to eat by the ton? You enjoy those too?’

‘What’s not to like about roast lamb leg or medium rare sirloin steak?’ She grinned.

His stomach flipped. He’d never seen her grin before. Better for him if he didn’t again. For some inexplicable reason that grin affected him deeply. It was cheeky, friendly, normal around him. This was not the Elene he thought he knew.

Elene glanced behind him. ‘Your pot’s boiling over.’

Whipping around, he rescued the pot before too big a mess was made on the stove top. Distracted, that was the problem. ‘What about food for Aimee?’

‘I’ve got that covered. I brought enough to get through the first days.’ She was beside him, holding up a sealed packet with a teddy bear with oats in its paw on the front. ‘Just need a small jug to heat this up.’

‘I’ll have to get her onto pasta quick-smart.’ Handing Elene what she required, Mattia returned to concentrating on the pasta sauce. Burning it in front of her was not an option. Nor was letting the water boil over again.

Silence fell between them, occasionally broken by Aimee’s mutterings as she placed block on top of block, only to have them tumble to the floor time after time. Patiently she’d start again, until Elene knelt down to straighten the stack after each placement. Finally all the blocks were used up and Aimee shrieked with delight, clapping her hands wildly and knocking the stack over.

Mattia watched them together. Two very different heads bent over the blocks. One with straight auburn hair, the other black and curly. Chalk and cheese. Elene and Aimee. ‘Why did Danielle choose Aimee for a name?’

That auburn head flipped up, a challenge in her gaze. ‘You don’t like her name?’

‘Did I say that? I was wondering if there was a connection to someone Danielle had been close to, someone special.’ He liked the name even if it wasn’t Italian.

She nodded. ‘Danielle was raised by her Grandma Aimee.’

Mattia nodded. ‘That’s nice. Middle name?’

Defiance filled her eyes. ‘Elene.’

‘So she’s got an Italian name. I like that. Surname?’ Shut up. Mattia snatched up the pot and drained the water from the pasta. And waited for the explosion.

* * *

Elene knew Mattia must be bursting with questions, but right now she needed to take it easy. They’d been together for only a couple of hours and there were ordinary things to do, like feeding Aimee and playing with her until that pent-up energy wore off. Deliberately or not, he’d lured her into a false sense of security. Concentration was required so as not to miss anything.

‘Don’t tell me it’s Lowe,’ Mattia growled impatiently.

Her hackles rose in an instant. ‘What would be wrong with that?’ Her father would’ve been proud for Aimee to have the family name.

‘Nothing, I suppose.’

‘You suppose? Oh, buster, you suppose nothing. You haven’t got a clue what’s happened since you left Wellington. What Danielle wanted for her daughter. What she suffered, knowing she’d never see Aimee grow up. All you’re worried about is a name.’ Where did those damned tears come from? She slashed at her cheeks and reached for Aimee to hug her tight, only Mattia was there, holding out a paper towel for her to wipe her face before he picked up his daughter.

‘Tell me more so I am clued up.’

Reaching for her wine, Elene drew deep breaths. She and Danielle had tried to prepare for this moment, but it was always going to be difficult explaining her friend’s reasons for refusing to tell Mattia about his child, and her own fear that he’d want full custody of his daughter.

‘Elene?’ He said her name softly, touching her deeply, questioning her determination not to fall in love again. ‘I understand talking about her must be difficult.’

She nodded. ‘Did Danielle ever mention her childhood to you?’ She’d be surprised if she had.

Topping up her glass, Mattia said, ‘Not a word.’

‘Her mother ran away when she was three and her father brought her up. Make that dragged her up. There was little money, a continuous stream of women who were unkind to her, and she had few friends. At fourteen she got pregnant and her father tried to force her to have an abortion. Somehow, and I’m not sure of the details here, she avoided the termination, only to have her father make her sign the baby over for adoption.’

Mattia swore. ‘That’s cruel. How did he get away with it? It shouldn’t have been his call to make.’

‘He threatened to turn Danielle out on the street if she didn’t do it. At fourteen, with no other family for support, she had no choice. The social welfare system let her down. Apparently her father charmed them into believing Danielle wanted to give her baby away.’ Elene stared at the carpet. ‘I don’t think she ever got over that.’

‘There are some real monsters out there.’

‘There are. I’ve been very lucky.’ Elene looked him in the eye. An explanation of her own wouldn’t go amiss. ‘The man who conceived me didn’t want me but the man I’ve called Dad all my life more than made up for him.’

‘More cruelty. I’m sorry to hear your stories. You and Danielle would’ve understood each other very well.’

‘We did.’ Needing to get Danielle’s story over with, Elene continued. ‘She intended letting you know about the pregnancy, but kept putting off the moment. She was so happy, so engrossed in having a baby you’d think she’d want to share the joy, but it was like she was holding it all to herself for herself.’ Another mouthful of wine, another deep breath. ‘Then the cancer diagnosis came and you didn’t get a look-in.’

‘She was afraid I’d take the baby away?’

Elene leapt in to negate that hurt. ‘Not because she truly believed you were capable of such cruelty. She wanted every minute she could with her baby without having to fight for the two of them. Not involving you from the beginning was a by-product of her past. I don’t think she ever trusted any man to look out for her.’