Awaken to Pleasure (15 page)

“Have you called a doctor?” he asked, when her sobs had faded off into silent weeping.

“What for? I’m fine.” She was belligerent.

His eye flicked to the bed and suddenly he understood why it had disturbed him. The blue sheets shouldn’t have been that almost purplish shade. His heart froze. How much blood had she lost? Shaking, he pulled his cell phone out of
his pocket and dialed an ambulance one-handed. Taylor didn’t say anything, and when the paramedics came, she went quietly. He held her hand throughout the ride.

At the E.R., he paced like a caged tiger until they pronounced that she’d be fine, though they wanted to keep her overnight for observation. He sat with her as she was hooked up to an IV drip and afterward when she started crying again, he ignored hospital policy and gathered her into his arms, being careful not to dislodge the IV needle. Sitting in a chair beside her bed, he cradled her slender body, so unexpectedly fragile, against his strength. Except tonight, he didn’t feel very strong. He could never erase her hurt.

“I don’t know how to stop your pain,
cara mia,”
he admitted. “Tell me what to do.” He was used to doing things, not being a useless observer on the sidelines.

Lifting her head, she framed his face with her gentle hands. “My pain? What about yours, darling?”

He gave her a tight smile. “I didn’t go through what you did. I will be fine.”

She shook her head, her lips set stubbornly. “Don’t shut me out, Jackson. Please don’t.” The vulnerability beneath the stubbornness was clear. “I need you here with me. More than I’ve ever needed you before.”

He looked at her earnest, tear-streaked face and felt something inside him shatter. “I always thought our
bambina
would have her mother’s eyes.”

“And her
papa’s
heart.” Taylor stroked his tears away, and it was only then that he knew he was crying. For the first time since he’d been a mere babe, Jackson Santorini allowed himself to cry, held in his wife’s arms. Her honest pain deserved nothing less. The honor of their
bambina
required it.

The next day, Jackson took his wife home. While they’d been away, he’d had the bed replaced, knowing that neither
of them would ever want to lie on it again. When they arrived, he made Taylor something to drink and then they sat basking in the sunshine, on the steps leading down from the back verandah. She sat on the step below him, watching the butterflies as steam floated up from her tea. He put his arms gently around her and held her to him.

“The nurse said that if we let ourselves mourn, we’d heal better.” Her voice was tentative.

“What do you want to do,
cara?”
He rubbed his face against her soft hair, reminding her that he was at her disposal. He needed to do something for her. Anything.

“I thought we could name her—we don’t know if the baby would’ve been a girl or a boy but we always thought of her…”

“…as our
bambina,”
he completed.

“Yes. Maybe…maybe we could plant something beautiful for her in our garden. It might help Nick, too, when he finds out.”

He swallowed the sorrow that choked his throat. Nick was so much like his sensitive sister. Jackson knew that they would have to be very careful with his young heart. “That sounds like a fine idea. What shall we name her?”

“What do you think?” Putting her cup on the step, she tilted her head against his chest and met his gaze.

“Rosa.” He quietly admitted to his own dreams.

She nodded. “That’s a good name. Rosa Santorini.” For the first time since their baby’s loss, she smiled a little, his Taylor coming back to him. “I’m glad we’re doing this. I don’t want to pretend she didn’t exist.” Despite the smile, there was such deep pain and sadness in her that he wanted to break something in despair.

“We could try again,” he suggested, hesitant to do so, but it was all he could think of to alleviate her hurt.

“I’d like that.” She smiled slowly. “From what the doctor
said, it happens to first babies sometimes…there’s no reason for us not to try again.”

He was glad that she no longer blamed herself as she had in those first shocked moments. “But before we do anything, we will get you checked out. We will not do anything if it will hurt you.” He refused to lose his wife.

Her face fell. “You don’t want me to be the mother of your babies? You said a year…”

His tough little Taylor was still so vulnerable and he knew only one way to change that. What was pride, what was
machismo,
in the face of his wife’s pain? Squeezing her tight, he leaned in close to her ear. “If anything happened to you, I would not survive,
mia amore.
Do not ask me to.”

Taylor’s heart stopped at that powerful statement, made in such a quiet way. “Jackson? But a baby…”

“…would be precious, but only if you were a part of him or her.” His legs pressed close against her and it was like being hugged with his whole body. “You are my heart, Taylor Santorini. You. Only you.”

Taylor’s whole world changed in that instant. She’d always guarded against love because the idea of being emotionally dependent on someone else terrified her. Never had she thought about what it would mean if she was loved in return, never had she imagined that a man with Jackson’s passionate heart, a heart which had been hurt as much as her own, would surrender his love into her hands. And never, never had she thought that her proud Italian husband would admit such a great vulnerability to her, not when Bonnie had wounded him so very much.

Nick came home three days later and they held him while he cried. Then together, they planted a red rose bush Nick chose. Roses for Rosa, he’d whispered. Jackson hadn’t left Taylor’s side for the past four days and now he was right be
side her as they held hands and sang a lullaby to the baby they would never get to hold.

It took another week before he was convinced that she’d be okay on her own.

“Will you be all right?” He was cradling her face in his big hands.
“Cara,
if you need me, I’ll stay.”

She knew that he meant every word. Her husband had shown her that she was the most vital thing in his life. Reaching up, she kissed his cheek. “I’m okay, darling. Promise. I think I’ll bake a cake to celebrate Nick’s team winning their first game.”

Jackson nodded in approval. “He’s a strong boy. He’s going to be fine.”

“We’re all going to be okay. We went through the sadness together and we’ll go through the joy that comes.”

It was time for her to start living again. She was aware that both her husband and her brother had treated her like fragile china for the past week and a half. Though she’d held them in their grief, they were both indisputably male, her husband the most masculine creature she knew. Being who they were, offering her their protection and succor had calmed the rage and sorrow inside them.

She’d let them fuss, aware of their need to do what they could. Now, it was time for her to reclaim her own strength. Her Rosa was in her heart, where she would always dwell, a precious first baby. But she was the only mother Nick had ever known and he needed her. So did her husband.

“I’ll be back between five and six.” Jackson kissed her once more and then he was gone.

Determined to banish the sadness, she went around the house pulling open every curtain. Light poured in from the windows and skylights while she prepared the cake mix.

As she did so, she thought over the game only two days ago. Nick would’ve understood if she’d missed it but she
would have never forgiven herself for neglecting his emotional needs. Jackson had supported her decision to attend the match with him, though he’d bundled her up in so many layers of clothing, she’d felt like a stuffed goose.

The outing had been a good idea, breaking the spell of sadness that had hung over all of them. Watching Jackson cheer for Nick with as much enthusiasm as any of the other fathers, she’d suddenly realized that somehow, they’d truly become a family.

Smiling at the memory of the stunned look on her brother’s face when he’d saved a goal, she put the two cake tins in the oven. Then, when the house was bright with sunshine and redolent with the smell of baking, she sat down with a cup of tea and took the chance to think. At the start of this marriage, she’d made a bargain with Jackson Santorini.

Ostensibly, she’d gained stability and safety for Nick. In reality, she’d gained the rock-solid loyalty and love of a very special man along with Nick’s happiness. He’d called her
mia amore.
My love.

You are my heart, Taylor Santorini.

She could barely believe it and yet she knew it was true. Jackson Santorini was a man of honor. He would never lie to his wife. Tears threatened. He loved her. Her husband, the man she’d adored from afar for so long, loved her. She had done well out of their bargain.

What had her husband gained?

A wife who loved his touch and a child who worshipped him. It seemed like a fair trade but it wasn’t. Not when she was keeping her feelings locked up behind a wall of practicality and sense, too scared to trust someone with that final piece of her heart in case they abandoned her.

She’d married Jackson because he could keep Nick safe. But, what did she feel for
him?
She knew that she wouldn’t
be able to function if she lost Nick. Mouth dry, she asked herself the question she’d been avoiding, afraid of the answer—what would happen to her if she lost Jackson? Her mind went black with pain so intense it was unbearable.

And she knew.

If she lost Jackson, a piece of her soul would die and even Nick wouldn’t be able to reach her. With his tenderness and protective possessiveness, her husband had become forever a part of her. Now, all she had to do was show him that truth. He wouldn’t believe her confession easily, this man who’d been betrayed so publicly. He might think that she felt she had to respond to his declaration, or that she was grateful. Or even that she was emotional after the past week and a half.

And yes, she was emotional, but not in that way. His care of her since they’d lost their baby had opened her eyes to the strength and loyalty inside of her big Italian husband. He would never stop loving her, not even if she failed to keep her part of their bargain. Most importantly, he would
never
abandon her, consigning her to an emotional wasteland. That certainty made her secure enough to tell him that he was the most treasured part of her life.

Convincing Jackson that she loved him without reservation or fear would take determination. But, he was going to believe her because he was hers for life. For the first time since her miscarriage, she felt true joy, knowing that other babies would grow from their precious relationship.

Jackson found himself walking up the steps to their home barely after two that day. Though he’d intended to stay away until at least five, giving Taylor space, his protective instincts had refused to stop clamoring for a look at her. He even had an excuse prepared for why he was home, though it made him feel about ten years old.

The door opened before he could reach it. A softly smil
ing Taylor stood there, arms folded across her chest. “Now, how did I know you’d be back early?”

Her teasing question released the tension across his shoulders. He’d been afraid that she’d find his protectiveness overbearing, when it was anything but that. She was so important to him that he couldn’t bear to see her hurting. “No kiss for your husband,
mia moglie?”
Reaching her, he leaned down.

She met him more than halfway, her lips a whisper against his, a welcome home that he’d been starving for. “Hello,
mio marito.
And yes, I’m okay.”

Loving her for understanding his need to care, he hugged her around the waist and nuzzled his face into her neck. “I promise I’ll leave you in peace for the rest of the day. I just came to get a kiss.”

She chuckled. When he pulled back, to his surprise, she took his hand and tugged him inside the house. He went, more than happy to accommodate her. She led him to the kitchen, where two cakes sat cooling. After sitting him down, she made coffee and then cut him a slice of cake. When he reached to take the saucer it was on, she shook her head and came around to sit on the chair facing him. Then, putting a bite of cake on her fork, she held it out, a smile in her eyes. Grinning, he let her feed him, something taut in his heart soothed by this sign of her healing.

“Jackson?”

“Hmm?” He accepted another mouthful.

“I did some thinking this morning.”

He looked up at the sound of her voice. The expression she was wearing made him refuse the next bite she offered. He wanted his mouth free to fight for her if he had to, because there was such purpose in that look that it shook him. “And what did you think about?”

“Loving,” she murmured, putting the saucer and fork on the table. “And how it’s the greatest trust a woman can give to a man.”

His heart jumped. “Why were you thinking of it?”

Her smile rivaled the sunshine. “I was thinking that I love you so much it almost hurts, but that you might not believe me if I just said it, so I was trying to think of some brilliant declaration.”