Her Little White Lie (18 page)

About everything. About the potential baby.

But he had everything contained now. One thing the time away had been good for was to start feeling like himself again. To start feeling like he had some semblance of control over his mind and body.

Whatever was ahead for them, they would handle. So long as he maintained his distance, in an emotional sense, everything would be fine.

He walked into the house, expecting silence, and heard Ana’s indignant wailing instead. He walked up the stairs, toward her room, expecting Paige to be there as she’d been their first night together.

But she wasn’t there.

He could hear the water running in the next room. Paige was in the shower, and since it was the time when Ana was normally asleep, she was probably stealing what had been her first chance of the day.

But now the baby was crying. Deep sobs. A sound so sad, so pitiful. And so full of helplessness that it called to him, resonated in him.

He walked into the nursery, an image in his mind of a small boy on the floor, crying endless tears, with no one there to comfort him. Crying for a mother who would never return. He approached Ana’s crib, his heart pounding in his head.

He swallowed and looked down at her. “Why are you crying,
principesa
?”

She looked at him, her owlish eyes wide and furious, and continued bawling.

He reached out to her slowly, placing his hand flat on her round tummy. She quieted and wiggled beneath his palm, her expression morphing to one of curiosity. When he didn’t satisfy it immediately, she started to cry again.

He could go and pull Paige out of the shower, which she had done to him. Of course, his had been a shower with a self-destructive bent, rather than one intended for cleanliness. Or he could handle this himself.

He couldn’t remember if he’d ever held a baby before. He doubted if he had. But he had seen the way Paige held her, with infinite care and sweetness. Close to her body to keep her safe. And if … if his carelessness had resulted in a pregnancy, he would have to learn.

He bent forward and scooped her into his arms, pulling her up against his chest. The discomfort that bordered on fear whenever he saw Ana started to fade, replaced with that tenderness he always saw on Paige’s face when she held her daughter. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, that softening in his chest. But surely it was right to feel tender toward a baby? A sign that perhaps not everything in him was frozen.

Ana stopped crying, her heart beating fast like a little bird’s as she nestled into his chest. “Is that all you wanted?” he asked, his voice breathless. “To be held?”

She melted into him, her little body supported by his hands. The trust she had in him humbled him, broke something deep inside of him.

She shifted, a sharp cry of discontentment on her lips.

He sat down in the rocking chair, hoping the back-and-forth movement would calm her.

Sing to her
.

He remembered Paige asking him to do that the first night.

I don’t know any lullabies
.

A lie.

Ana wiggled against him, her crying becoming more insistent.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand over her back. For a moment he could not force the words out. They stuck in his throat, stuck, along with the image in his mind of the little boy curled up on the floor. That was the last time he had sung the song. The last time he had let the words out.

He moved his hand over Ana’s back, felt her warmth. Her breath. Her life. She was not cold. She was not gone.

She would hear the song. She would take comfort in it.

He took a breath.
“Stella stellina, la notte se avvicina.”
She quieted at the sound of his voice, her wide eyes trained on his face. His chest felt tight, his throat threatening to close, but he kept on. Up until the end.
“Nel cuorre della mamma.”

And all are sleeping in the mother’s heart
.

Ana rested her head on his chest, relaxed her body against him. And he put his cheek on top of her feather-soft head.

“
Papa’s
heart, too,” he said, without thinking.

His own words jolted him back to reality. Ana didn’t have a father. He certainly couldn’t fill that place in her life. He couldn’t fill the place at Paige’s side, either. A husband. A father. He wasn’t meant to be either of those things.

He had nothing in him to give. A few moments in a rocking chair, a song, didn’t change that. He was bound up too tight, everything in him ordered, set, unable to be moved. If he opened up at all, if he changed one thing, he was afraid it would all collapse. Afraid that his control would slip. That the pain, the ugliness, that lived in him would be unleashed on the innocent people around him.

That couldn’t happen. Not ever.

Still, he stayed, in this moment outside of reality. A quiet moment, the kind a man like him had never been given before. To hold someone so helpless, so precious, who trusted him so completely for no other reason than that life had always
handed her people who cared for her. Because she had never been touched by someone who intended evil.

He wasn’t the kind of man who prayed, but in that moment, he prayed that she never was.

I
T
was her wedding day. Strange because she’d never given a lot of thought to her wedding day. Although, when her mind had wandered to the event she’d imagined—the very few times she’d imagined anything—a lot of color.

Glitter, naturally. Having some friends and family present, no matter how fraught the relationship, would have been nice, too.

But she’d opted out of it because she simply hadn’t told her parents, or siblings, that she was engaged, so that made it easy.

And now, in her gorgeous but sedate satin gown, with her hair pinned up, so that her pink stripe was covered, as commanded by the hairdresser, she felt a little sad about her lack of support. About the fact that she hadn’t put more of her own personal stamp on things.

Which was stupid, because this was a very temporary marriage to a man who meant nothing to her. A man who was just her boss. And who was just the most fascinating, interesting, sexy man she’d ever met. And who was, oh, yeah, also her lover.

So there was that, too, but it was still no big deal and not worth getting worked up over.

Too bad she was worked up.

She blamed some of the worked up on getting out of the
shower last night and finding Dante sitting in the rocking chair, holding Ana against his chest. Singing.

That had made something crack apart in her chest. Had left her feeling vulnerable, tender. Different.

She took a deep breath and bunched up handfuls of her slippery skirt. She didn’t have time to get all moony. Ana was already in the church, with Genevieve who was acting as an attendant and babysitter. They’d opted to include Ana in the ceremony because, honestly, the party was for her. The whole thing was for her.

Paige hoped, sincerely, that Ana never doubted how loved she was. Because this was nothing, only a small piece of what she was willing to go through in order to secure her daughter’s safety and happiness. In order to keep her in her life.

She would walk through fire. All today required was a corset and mascara. And some vows. In a church.

So maybe she
would
walk through fire for all this eventually.

At least now she felt equipped to do it. Felt like she had the strength. She didn’t know what had happened to her over the past few weeks, but something in her had changed. She wasn’t afraid that everything she touched would turn to sand and blow away in the wind. Wasn’t afraid that she was destined to fail. She felt … powerful. Like she had the power to do what had to be done.

“Ms. Harper?” The wedding planner, the one who had thrown everything together at the last minute without batting an eye, poked her head into the waiting area Paige was standing in.

“Yes?”

“It’s time to queue up.”

Paige nodded and walked out of the quiet little entryway into the foyer of the church. Two wooden double doors loomed in front of her. She could hear people talking quietly, and she could hear music.

“Dante, Genevieve and Ana are already in place. You just wait until I signal you.”

Paige nodded, unable to come up with any words.

Then, way too quickly, the wedding planner gave her the signal and the doors swung open. Paige took a deep breath and started to walk slowly down the aisle, her heart pounding in her head.

She didn’t really like having everyone’s eyes on her, because there was a very high likelihood of her tripping or otherwise making a fool out of herself, and she really didn’t relish a thousand people bearing witness to her clumsiness.

One foot in front of the other.

She concentrated on that. On making it down smoothly. And she didn’t once look up at Dante. She found Ana first, clinging to Genevieve, her frilly white dress bunching out around her, a headband with an oversize flower decorating her short hair.

Only at the end, when she had nowhere else to look, when it was time for her to take Dante’s hand, did she look at him.

And it was like the whole sanctuary, the whole city, the whole world, cracked apart around her and fell away. He was beautiful, but he was always beautiful. The tuxedo highlighted the hard lines of his trim physique, the candlelight casting shadows in the hollows of his face, making his cheekbones sharper, his jaw more square.

But that wasn’t it.

He took both of her hands and the pastor began the ceremony. She managed to say the vows, managed to repeat them when it was her turn, to keep from stumbling over her words.

But when the command was given to kiss the bride and Dante’s lips touched hers, she realized what it was. And it filled her with a sense of bone-deep terror, and a kind of pure, intense elation that she’d never experienced before in her life.

Dante wasn’t just her boss. He wasn’t just a man who was helping her. He wasn’t just her temporary husband. He wasn’t even just her lover.

Dante was the man she loved. The only man she’d ever loved. The man who was worth the risk. The man who had made her fear of being unwanted seem like nothing. Because she was willing to fight for him. Willing to risk herself, her heart, for him.

Because she loved him.

And she knew that the admission would send him running back up the aisle alone.

So, she said nothing, and she kept on kissing him.

“And now I pronounce them, not only husband and wife, but a family,” the pastor said.

Genevieve handed Ana to Paige and Paige took her, held her daughter close against her chest, her heart thundering, as Dante took her free hand.

“I am proud to present the Romani family.”

Dante was grinning, the kind of grin designed to make the headlines. The kind of grin designed to impress child services. The kind that Paige knew was a fake. Because she could see the emptiness in his eyes.

She was finding it a little hard to fake it, considering the revelation that had just slapped her in the face.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened, the love thing. When a crush had changed into something real, something deeper. Sometime in between when he’d stood in front of her desk like an avenging angel demanding an explanation, and when he’d cradled Ana against his chest and sang to her with the most profound tenderness she’d ever seen from him.

They walked down the aisle, to thundering applause, and she wondered, for the first time, who the people in attendance were. Friends of Dante’s family. And friends of their friends, she imagined.

Paige forced a smile, and tried to keep a hold of Dante’s hand. He leaned in, the motion likely seeming like an affection nuzzle to their audience. “Smile,” he said.

“I am,” she whispered back.

The double doors opened for them and they entered the empty foyer.

“You aren’t,” he said, once the doors closed behind them.

“Well, I’m not as good of an actor as you,” she said.

He looked stricken by that statement and she couldn’t understand why. It’s what he was doing, she could tell.

“Well, you had best become better at it. We are headed to the reception now, and you are going to meet my parents.”

Dante watched as Paige, pale and drawn, attempted to converse with guest after guest in the massive ballroom. He could tell she was fading. Ana had faded long ago, and was asleep in his arms, her face pressed hard against his shoulder.

Strange, how easy it was to get used to carrying the little girl, when he had avoided it for so long. It seemed natural now. Right.

Don and Mary, his mother and father by every right, caught his eye and made their way across the ballroom, their hands unlinked, but touching lightly with each step. They weren’t overly affectionate and never had been. But they presented a strong front of solidarity. One that went well beyond a front, he was certain.

“Dante.” Mary leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, resting her hand on Ana’s back. “We’re so very happy for you.”

He nodded, discomfort assaulting him. He hadn’t wanted to lie to them. Not for anything.

Don smiled. “We were certain you’d never settle down, and then this. Out of the blue. Instant family. A granddaughter for us, too.”

Guilt stabbed him. “A surprise for me, as well.” That was the strict truth.

Paige looked over at him, and in moments she was flitting across the room. She came to his side, her hand on his arm.

“You must be Dante’s parents,” she said.

“And you’re the world’s most unexpected woman,” Mary said. “We never thought Dante would choose family life.”

“Ah, well,” Paige said. “I sort of roped him into it. He didn’t have a choice really.”

Don and Mary laughed, because it sounded too ridiculous to be true. Even if it was. Though, that he’d had no choice was where Paige was wrong. He had a choice. He could walk away at any moment, but something was keeping him from doing it.

If only he knew what it was. Ana shifted against him, and a strange tightness invaded his chest.

“We do have a bit of a surprise for you,” Don said. “Dante told us you weren’t planning a honeymoon because of the baby. So Mary and I thought we would offer to take Ana for the night, and that we would send you to a hotel downtown.”