Her Brooding Italian Boss (12 page)

The room grew quiet. Antonio heard the click of her heels again. When he turned she was right behind him.

“She didn’t deserve you.”

He sniffed a laugh.

“I’m serious.”

“I have my faults.”

“Oh, don’t I know it. But I still think you’re special.” She caught his gaze. “Wonderful.”

The magnetic pull of her innocent green eyes drew him to her. An inch. Then two. Then his hands were close enough that he could lay them on her warm shoulders. His mouth was close enough that he could touch his lips to hers.

As if thought gave birth to action, he closed the distance between them and brushed his lips across hers. Laura Beth edged closer too. Her lips were warm and sweet. The way she kissed him, answering the moves of his mouth slowly, hesitantly, then completely, spoke of submission. Honesty. A change in the way she felt about him, the way she related to him. She was taking the step that would shift them from friends to so much more.

He slid his tongue along the seam of her lips and when she opened to him he deepened the kiss.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

L
AURA
B
ETH
SURRENDERED
to the urgent prodding of Antonio’s mouth. Desperate, shivering with need, she pressed into him as he pulled her closer.

He didn’t mourn his wife.

He did want her.

She could be the love of his life.

Except he didn’t trust.

The cell phone in his pocket began to chime out a happy beat. Antonio pulled away. Their gazes caught and held.

The phone rang again.

Antonio quietly said, “That ringtone is Bernice, my father’s assistant. She never calls unless it’s an emergency.”

Laura Beth whispered, “You should take it.”

As if in a trance, he nodded, retrieved the phone from his pocket and clicked the button to answer it. “Bernice? What’s up?”

Because he’d put his phone on speaker, the voice of Constanzo’s assistant erupted in the room. “Oh, Antonio! It’s awful! Just awful!”

Laura Beth walked a few feet away. Her head spun—the truth about his life, his marriage, had shaken her to the core. It gave her a crazy kind of hope, even as it dashed her hopes. How could she expect to build a life with a man who couldn’t trust?

Antonio said, “Hey. Calm down. Whatever my dad did, we can fix it.”

“This isn’t about a mistake.” A sob escaped. “The ambulance just left. Your dad is on his way to the hospital. They think he had a heart attack.”

Antonio stumbled to the chaise and collapsed on it. “A heart attack?”

Laura Beth gasped. “Oh, my God.” All her other thoughts and troubles flitted away in a surge of worry about Constanzo.

“Yes! Hurry! Get to the hospital!”

He disconnected the call as Laura Beth walked to the door. “You give me directions and I’ll drive.”

Antonio raced out of the studio toward the house for keys. “
I’ll
drive.”

She didn’t follow him, but ran to the garage. In less than a minute, Antonio joined her with his car keys. He jumped into the Lamborghini and Laura Beth climbed in too.

As he sped along the winding roads of the hills between his country house and Bogodehra, she wasn’t sure it was wise for him to drive. But she was as desperate to get to the hospital as he was, and simply held onto the dashboard for support as they raced to the city.

When they finally arrived at the stucco building with loops of arches and fancy pillars, they jumped out and dashed inside.

Laura Beth’s gaze winged from side to side as she took in the surroundings that were both familiar and unfamiliar. Department names were in Italian, but most of the words were close enough to English that she could translate. Still, the chatter of doctors, nurses, patients and patients’ families in the area best described by an American as the emergency room was in Italian. Even Antonio spoke Italian when he reached a nurse’s station.

Using the universal language of pointing, the nurse obviously told him to have a seat.

He sighed and faced Laura Beth. “We can’t see him.”

She caught his arm frantically. “We can’t?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and Laura Beth realized she wasn’t helping by panicking.

“They haven’t yet gotten the word that he’s stable.”

Her heart dipped. Fear crept into her limbs and froze them. It was impossible for her to picture an event for one of Tucker and Olivia’s kids without big, boisterous Constanzo Bartulocci, the man everyone thought of like a favorite uncle.

If she was this upset about Constanzo, she couldn’t imagine Antonio’s fright. Constanzo was his
father
. If her father was the one in this hospital right now, she’d be a basket case.

She tugged lightly on his arm and got him to a plastic seat. As if in a daze, he lowered himself to the chair. She sat beside him, but took his hand, keeping the connection, so he’d know he wasn’t alone.

“My father and I haven’t really spoken since we got back from Barcelona. When I did stop by, he said he was sorry for stranding us, but didn’t want to talk about anything else. I never went over after that.”

She smiled weakly, acknowledging that. “We’ve been busy.”

He put his head back and rubbed his hand across his mouth. “I should have gone to see him again. I should have forced him to talk about that fight, or at least let him know I wasn’t angry.” He sighed. “Why are we always squabbling?”

She squeezed his hand and again her sense of purpose, of destiny, with Antonio filled her. All she had to do was listen to the easy way he confided in her, talked about such personal things, to know that he trusted her. He might not realize it, but she did.

“It’s how you show love.”

He sniffed a laugh. “Right. Either that or he hates me.”

That admission further bolstered her belief that there was more between them than friendship, more between them than a few kisses. And she knew she was the person to help him through this crisis.

“He doesn’t hate you. If he did, he wouldn’t meddle.”

Antonio shut his eyes. “He always meddles.”

“Yeah, but I think his intentions are good. I’m sure Tucker and Olivia were glad he forced them to come to Italy together to find you.”

He sniffed a laugh. “Such a matchmaker and a do-gooder.”

“Lots of people would be glad their dad looks for ways to help other people.”

“I am. Most days I’m proud of him.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I wish I’d told him that.”

She tightened her hold on his hand. “I’m sure he knows.”

“By my yelling at him?”

“By the fact that you’re honest with each other.” She thought of her parents back in Kentucky. “I wish I could be so open with my parents.”

He turned his head and studied her. “You’re not?”

“I haven’t yet told them I’m pregnant.” She shrugged. “I’m afraid of their reaction. I don’t think you and Constanzo hold important things back. Even if you do sometimes get loud when you talk.”

Antonio’s eyes softened. “Have you even called your parents?”

Knowing the distraction of a different topic might be good for him, she said, “Yes. Once. I let them know I was here in Italy.”

“Why haven’t you told them?”

“I guess deep down I’m afraid of what they’ll say. They’d wanted me to become a doctor or a lawyer and start a practice in our small town.” She sighed. “But I wanted something more.”

“Something more?”

Knowing she was doing a good job of keeping Antonio occupied, she decided to be honest, to continue the conversation that held his nerves at bay. “That’s the bad part. I couldn’t even give them a description of what I wanted. All I could tell them was I had this feeling in my soul that I was meant to do something wonderful with my life.”

He winced. “But you couldn’t tell them what.”

“No. And now I’m returning educated but not employable.” She shook her head.

“Hey, Olivia says Tucker has a job for you.”

“But what if he doesn’t? There aren’t a lot of jobs for IT people in Starlight, Kentucky. So I’ll end up being somebody’s glorified secretary. I’ll be coming back a failure and pregnant.”

His gaze slowly met hers. “Some people would consider a child a blessing.”

She swallowed. Caught in the fierce light in his dark eyes, she could almost read his thoughts. He had lost a child because his wife hadn’t thought beyond her own needs. Antonio himself was born to an unmarried mother, the product of the same kind of mistake Laura Beth had made. It was important that Antonio know she did not consider her baby a mistake.

“My child is a blessing. I don’t know why I got pregnant, but I believe in destiny. This little boy or girl has a purpose.”

“What if his or her purpose is only to sweep streets?”

She laughed. “Destiny is about more than a job.”

“You should tell that to yourself some time.”

She frowned.

“You’re so concerned that without a law degree or medical license your parents will consider you’re a failure. What if your destiny is to be the mother of the surgeon who makes the next great medical advancement or the architect who builds the next Sistine Chapel? What if your destiny is simply to be this child’s mom?”

As she thought about that, a smile bloomed. “I get it.”

“And even if his destiny isn’t to be great—even if his destiny is to sweep streets—he’s still important.”

She squeezed Antonio’s hand. “I know. All along there’s been something inside me that happily responded to the idea of raising a child. I won’t let him down.”

Antonio ran his free hand down his face again. Though the conversation had distracted him for a few minutes, his nervousness had returned.

A doctor in green scrubs walked to the nurse’s station. The same nurse who’d relegated Antonio to a plastic seat pointed at him again. The doctor walked over.

Still clinging to Laura Beth’s hand, Antonio rose.

The doctor began to speak in Italian. Antonio quickly cut him off. “English for my friend?”

The doctor nodded. “My English not perfect.” He smiled at Laura Beth. “But good enough. Your father’s heart attack was mild, but we’ll be running some tests. If all goes well, in a few days he will go home with medicine.”

“If all doesn’t go well?”

“Probably a bypass.” The doctor smiled. “And a diet.”

Antonio shook his head. He said, “Lucky old coot,” but Laura Beth could feel the tension draining from him. “Can we see him?”

Making some notes on a chart, the doctor said, “Yes. I’m sure it will be a few minutes before he’s wheeled out for testing.”

Laura Beth and Antonio walked to Constanzo’s cubicle hand in hand. Even before they reached it, they could hear the rumble of Constanzo’s deep voice as he barked out complaints that his bed was too hard and he wanted a sandwich.

Pushing open the privacy curtain, Antonio said, “Too many sandwiches are what got you here.”

As if glad for the reprieve, the nurses scrambled out of the cubicle.

Constanzo’s eyes lit. “Laura Beth,” he said, turning his pleading gaze on her, “I almost died. Tell my son to be kind to me.”

She laughed, but the oddest feelings poured through her. In what should be a very private moment between a father and son, she didn’t feel out of place. In fact, she felt as if she belonged here. But more than that, it felt right, perfect, that Antonio held her hand. Turned to her for comfort. Gave her advice when she tried to distract him. Liked her.

Her heart stumbled a bit as he released her hand and walked to the head of Constanzo’s bed. Even though neither of them had said it, she and Antonio loved each other. Not in the way they’d loved Bruce or Gisella. But in a deep, profound way.

She was the real love of his life and he was hers.

And as soon as Constanzo was better, she would prove it to him.

* * *

With Constanzo safe in the hospital, his private doctors on the scene and a battery of tests ordered, Antonio’s stress level fell. By the time they left the hospital, the sun had set. The air had cooled, but not so much that they had to put the Lamborghini’s top up. He and Laura Beth didn’t talk, but they didn’t need to. She’d pushed him to tell the truth about Gisella and he’d forced her to admit why she’d really run to Italy. She might want to return to Starlight to raise her child, but she wasn’t looking forward to the conversation she had to have with her parents. She didn’t want to return to her hometown a failure.

Still, they were both on the road to recovery in their respective life crises. Now they could get on with their lives.

Already he felt strong again. Having learned his lessons about weakness, about letting anyone get too close, he’d never go through that kind of pain again. Just as Laura Beth would never again let herself be taken in by a man. She’d raise her child in her hometown and be happy.

He could picture it. He could see her in a big house with a homey kitchen and a yard full of green grass for a growing child. He smiled at the vision, but his smile quickly faded. He should have a three-year-old right now. A toddler to teach and dote on. Someone to make Constanzo smile. Someone who might grow up to be a garbageman or doctor. It wouldn’t matter. He would have been Antonio’s heart.

The Lamborghini roared up the driveway and, filled with indescribable pain, Antonio drove it into the garage. He and Laura Beth piled out unceremoniously. Though it was late, Rosina met them at the door to the kitchen.

“How is Mr. Constanzo?”

“He’s fine.”

Antonio’s usually calm and collected housekeeper all but collapsed with relief.

His eyes narrowed as he directed her back into the kitchen. Her reaction had been more than a little extreme and he almost cursed the stupidity, the fruitlessness of his life. Servants who got involved in their lives like family—because they saw more of their household staff than the real world. Money. Talent. Fame. None of it mattered! He wanted his child.

“I will make sandwiches and you will tell me everything?”

He almost told her he wasn’t hungry. He wanted to be alone. To lick his wounds. To roar with anger. But a glance at Laura Beth reminded him he had responsibilities. Not just to feed his probably starving guest, but to his staff. Rosina wanted information. He needed to give it to her.

“Sandwiches would be good.”

Laura Beth took the stool beside his at the center island. As Rosina cut bread and assembled cold cuts, they told her everything the doctors had said. Reassured, and her job done, Rosina shuffled off to her quarters behind the kitchen.

“She likes him.”

Antonio glanced over at her. “Really?”

“When your dad came to the house the night he and I flew to Barcelona, I saw looks pass between them. I got the distinct impression she’d called him and told him I was bored with nothing to do. Now I wonder if it isn’t more than that.”

“So all this time I thought my dad was a meddler, I actually have two meddlers in my life?”

She playfully swatted his arm. “You’re missing the big picture. I think your head housekeeper is in love with your dad!”

He shook his head. “Poor Rosina.”

“Why? Your dad is great. I think he and Rosina would make a cute couple.”

“I think she’s wishing on a star if she thinks that’s ever going to happen.”