The Passion Price (13 page)

‘I
S IT
always like that?'

Angelina lifted her head at Jake's question. They were back at his apartment, Angelina having driven there at Jake's request after the swimming carnival was over. She was sitting on the sleek red leather sofa once more, with a Malibu and Coke cradled in her hands, wondering when she could possibly get up and leave. Just being in this place with Jake, alone, was killing her. She'd thought she hated him this past week but of course she didn't. She loved him.

‘Always like what?' she asked, her voice sounding as dead and drained as she was feeling.

‘When your kid does something great. Does it always feel like that?'

‘Like what, exactly?'

‘Like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. Like you're on top of the world, a world bathed in everlasting sunshine.'

Angelina's own heart squeezed tight as all the fears which had been gathering that afternoon suddenly crystallised into one big fear.

‘Yes,' she said flatly. ‘Yes, it always feels like that.'

Jake sat down on an adjacent armchair with his
own drink in his hands. Scotch on ice, by the look of it.

‘We have to talk,' he said, his tone serious.

‘About what?' Angelina took a sip of her drink.

‘You. Me. Alex.'

‘Let's just stick to Alex.'

‘I think we should start with you and me. After all, that's where Alex started, sixteen years ago.'

‘A lot of water has gone under the bridge since then, Jake.'

‘Yes. It certainly has. We're different people now, you and me.'

‘One of us is, anyway,' she bit out, then took another sip.

Jake gritted his teeth. She wasn't making things easy for him. When she'd cried back at the swimming carnival and he'd taken her into his arms, he'd thought that everything was going to be all right. Alex had clearly thought so, too.
And
Dorothy. But the moment they were alone together again, she'd withdrawn inside a cold, hard little shell that he just couldn't penetrate.

Jake decided that a change of tactics was called for.

‘So you're going to do it again, are you?' he said sharply.

That got her attention. ‘Do what?'

‘Lie to me.'

‘I never lied to you,' she said defensively.

‘Yes, you did. By omission. And by implication. Now you're doing it again.'

‘I don't know what you mean.'

‘You're pretending you don't care about me. That you don't love me.'

He watched her mouth drop open; watched the truth flash into her eyes.

‘You
do
love me,' he ground out, his voice thick with emotion.

‘I…I…' She shook her head from side to side, clearly unable to speak the words.

‘You love me and you're going to marry me.'

‘
Marry
you!' She jumped to her feet, her drink sloshing all over the rug. ‘I am not going to marry you. When and if I marry, it will be to a man who loves me as much as I love him. And
not
because he covets my son. Oh, yes, I saw the way you looked at Alex today, Jake Winters, and I knew. I knew in my heart that you wanted my boy, not just for a weekend here and there but all the time. That was why I was crying so much.'

Jake snatched the glass out of her shaking hands and rammed it down on a nearby table along with his own drink before glowering at her with fury in his eyes and frustration in his heart.

‘I've heard enough of this rubbish!' he roared. ‘I
do
love you, woman. I probably love you even more than you love me! If you don't believe me, then come here…' Grabbing her hand, he dragged her with him into the bedroom, where he yanked open the top drawer of his bedside chest.

‘I don't think that showing me how many condoms you've bought is proof of love,' she said sca
thingly as she tried to tug her hand out of his. But he refused to let it go.

His producing a ring box and flipping it open to show a spectacular diamond engagement ring shut her up. But not for long.

‘Good try, Jake. Good move, too. I've got to hand it to you. You're clever.'

Jake dropped the ring box on the bed, grabbed a piece of paper from the drawer and shoved it into her hands. ‘That's the sales receipt. Care to check the date?'

Angelina's eyes dropped to the date. Wednesday. He'd bought the ring on Wednesday.

She looked up, tears in her eyes. ‘You bought this
before
Alex went to see you?'

Jake had to steel himself against his own rush of emotion. ‘I wanted to tell you I loved you and wanted to marry you last weekend. But I was afraid of rushing you. I thought you needed time. I was prepared to give you all the time in the world. But then I walked past this jewellery-shop window and saw this ring and I just had to buy it for you. When I put it in this drawer, I told myself I didn't care how long I had to wait till you wore it, as long as you eventually did.'

‘Oh…' More tears rushed in, spilling over.

He wiped them away with his fingers, then curved his hands over her shoulders. ‘I love you, Angelina Mastroianni. And you love me. So I'm not going to give you any more time. We've already wasted sixteen years.' He reached to extract the diamond ring
from the box and slipped it on her left hand. It fitted perfectly. ‘We're going to be married. Not hurriedly. Magnificently. Next spring. In St Mary's Cathedral. But that's just a ceremony. From this moment on, you are my woman, and I am your man, exclusively, till death do us part.'

‘Till death us do part,' she repeated dazedly.

‘Now tell me you love me.'

‘I love you.'

He sighed and drew her into his arms, his lips burrowing into her hair. ‘I think you should show me how much.'

S
EPTEMBER
—the first month of spring down under—was an iffy month for weather in Sydney. Often cold. Often rainy. But occasionally brilliant.

St Mary's Cathedral had never looked better than it did that September afternoon, bathed in sunshine, the nearby gardens just beginning to blossom. But nothing could match the splendour of the bride as she carefully mounted the cathedral steps.

Her dress was white chiffon, with a draped bodice and a long, flowing skirt that fell from straight under her impressive bustline. Her dark hair was sleekly up, with a diamanté tiara as decoration. Her veil was very long and sheer. Her neck was bare, but delicate diamond and pearl drops fell from her lobes.

She looked exquisite. She also looked nervous, which enhanced that glorious air of innocence that often clung to brides, even those who were secretly five months pregnant.

‘I never appreciated till now,' she said to Wilomena, ‘just how nerve-racking weddings are. If I hadn't had your help today, I'd never have been ready in time.'

‘That's what bridesmaids are for,' Wilomena returned, busily fluffing out the bridal veil. ‘I'll be re
lying on you for the same help when Kevin and I tie the knot later in the year.'

Angelina smiled at the girl who had fast gone from employee to confidante to best friend. ‘My pleasure. And might I say that burgundy colour really suits you, despite your doubts? The style, too.'

Wilomena's dress was chiffon as well, calf-length, with a low neckline, spaghetti straps and a long, flowing scarf that draped softly around her throat and hung down to the hem at the back

‘Mmm. Yes. I'm forced to agree. Kevin said he can't wait to get it off me later tonight,' she whispered.

‘Come on, Mum,' Alex said, and took his mother's arm. ‘Stop the girlie chit-chat. We don't want to keep Dad waiting too long. He was champing at the bit this morning.'

Angelina looked up at her son. So handsome he was in his tuxedo. And so grown up. He'd matured considerably since Jake had come into his life. The two of them spent as much time together as they possibly could, obviously trying to make up for lost time.

Angelina might have been jealous if both the men in her life hadn't been so happy. Besides, Jake still found plenty of time for her. Quality time. In bed and out.

The
Wedding March
started up, snapping Angelina out of her thoughts. Wilomena took her place in front of the bride and began the slow walk up the aisle,
just as they had rehearsed. Angelina's arms tightened around her son's when her bouquet started to shake.

‘Relax, Mum,' her son advised.

‘How can you be so calm?' she cried.

‘Well, there's nothing to be nervous about, is there? I mean…we all love each other here. Not only that, if I'm going to do Grandpa's job, I want to do it with dignity and panache, like he would have.'

Angelina's stomach tightened at the mention of her father. ‘Do you think he'd mind my marrying Jake, Alex?'

‘Grandpa? Nah. He'd be happy, I reckon. Especially now.'

‘You mean because Jake's turned out to be such a good man?'

Alex stifled a laugh. ‘Come on, Mum. This is me you're talking to. Because of the
baby
, of course! Dad told me all about it.'

‘He
told
you!'

‘Yeah, there are no secrets between Dad and me. He said it was all his fault, as usual.'

‘Oh…'

‘He also said if I ever get a girl pregnant this side of twenty-five, he's going to skin me alive,' Alex added with a grin. ‘Hey, we'd better start walking. Wil's halfway up the aisle.'

They started walking, Angelina's head whirling. Jake had told Alex about the baby. And there she'd been, trying to hide her pregnancy, worried sick about what her son would think when he found out.

‘You don't mind?' she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

‘Why should I mind? I always wanted a little sister.'

‘You know it's a girl as well?'

‘Yep. Dad's tickled pink.'

Which was true. Not that Jake had really cared if it was a boy or a girl. He just wanted them to have a baby together. He'd told her he wanted to experience fatherhood right from the start.

‘Smile, Mum,' Alex ordered.

She smiled. And then she smiled some more. Alex was right. They all loved each other here. There was nothing to worry about.

 

Jake's heart lurched when she smiled. Then lurched some more when her smile broadened. God, how he loved that woman!

‘What a babe,' Kevin muttered beside him.

‘You can say that again,' Jake returned before he realised Kevin's eyes were on his fiancée across the way.

Those two only had eyes for each other. Jake knew that for a fact. Since quitting his job, he'd been spending a lot of time up at the winery, helping out there till he worked out what he was going to do, career-wise. Probably start up his own law practice. Sally had already indicated that she was for hire, at the right price.

He and Kevin had hit it off right from the start and when Angelina said she'd asked Wilomena to be
her one and only bridesmaid, Jake had no hesitation in asking Kevin to be his best man.

‘Angelina looks pretty good too,' Kevin added, and Jake laughed.

He caught Sally's eye in the third pew and gave her a wink. She winked back.

Then he smiled at Dorothy, who was looking just a little tense.

Dear Dorothy.
Smart
Dorothy as well. He would be forever grateful for the solution she'd come up with for a problem he had about names. The names of his children. He wanted both of them to have the same surname.
His.
But Alex was adamant about keeping Mastroianni as his surname and Jake could appreciate that. Still, with Dorothy's help, he'd sorted that all out. He hoped Angelina would be pleased, he thought as his gaze returned to his lovely bride.

 

Dorothy was determined not to cry during the ceremony, but she clutched a white lace-edged handkerchief in her hands, just in case. What a beautiful bride Angelina made. But what a handsome groom Jake was. Most touching of all was the way he was looking at the woman he loved as she came down the aisle. With so much tenderness. So much love.

Oh, Edward. You would have been so proud of him today.

But no prouder than she was. Maybe she wasn't his mother by blood, but she was in her heart. And
now there was a baby coming as well. A dear little baby girl for her to help mind. And to love.

Oh, dear. She dabbed at her eyes.

 

Jake tensed when the priest got to the part which he knew would come as a bit of a surprise to his bride.

‘And do you, Jake Mastroianni, take…?'

Angelina reached out to touch the priest's arm. ‘No, no,' she murmured. ‘You've got it wrong. It's Jake
Winters
.'

‘Not any more,' Jake whispered to her. ‘I had my surname changed by deed poll. With Alex's approval, of course. I'm a Mastroianni now.' And he glanced over his shoulder at his son, who nodded to his mother with a wide smile.

‘You've taken
my
name?' Angelina asked, looking pleased, but stunned.

Jake sighed with relief. He'd done the right thing. After all, he had no real attachment to his own name. His poor mother had died some years back and he'd never known any of his other relatives. But it was rather ironic that he was to be called Mr Mastroianni from now on.

I'll try not to discredit your name in any way,
came his silent promise to the proud Italian man who had once broken his nose.

‘Please go on,' Jake directed the priest.

 

The ceremony was a bit of a fog after that, Angelina not surfacing till Jake lifted the veil from her face and kissed her.

His lips on hers felt slightly different this time. Softer. More tender. More loving.

She looked up into her husband's eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that could look so hard at times. But not today. And certainly not at this moment. They were soft and wet with tears.

‘Mrs Mastroianni,' he choked out, and she realised, perhaps for the first time, just how much he
did
love her.

‘Mr Mastroianni,' she returned softly, and touched his cheek. ‘My sweet darling. My only love.'