The Reluctant Wife (9 page)

Their lovemaking became frantic. With a deep groan, Dante drove into her one last time and lost control, his whole being shaking with the force of his release. His passion-filled cries sent her headlong into her own release, caught in an explosion of ecstasy, their mutual pleasure sending her into orbit. She gripped his neck, fighting the pull back to reality. His heavy breathing was an indication of his still-turbulent emotions. Abby dropped her head against his shoulder and let the sound of the water sloshing around them calm her racing heart.

“See, it’s not just incredible sex. It’s more,” she whispered.

Dante let his actions speak for him. He shifted his grip on her, swung her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, and walked up the steps, out of the pool, heading toward the master bedroom suite.

“Damn you, Abby,” he muttered under his breath but loud enough for her to hear.

She remained silent, not sure what mood had taken him. When they reached the bedroom, he kicked the door closed behind him and walked to the bed. Gently lowering her onto the cool sheets, he followed her down, shifting himself over her, his eyes holding hers.

“I want more. More than I should want.” And he set about proving just how much more he wanted, and she proved how much more she was happy to give.

…

Dante was proud to have Abby by his side at the dinner with Zanetti. She played her part brilliantly. The aftermath of their lovemaking this afternoon proved to be the icebreaker. Even he could see the love shinning in Abby’s eyes. A part of him hated that he could be giving her false hope. Not false hope that he loved her, but false hope of a happily ever after.

“My wife has given me her seal of approval.” Paolo Zanetti joined him on the balcony offering him a port.

Dante accepted the glass with a raised eyebrow.

“Delores likes Abby. Told me she sees a bit of herself in your wife. A quietly determined young woman.”

Dante looked through the open doors of the terrace and into the drawing room. “Abby’s that all right, I’m only just learning.”

“Why did you wait so long to bring her home? I wouldn’t have let a woman like Abby slip away. Makes me wonder what your agenda is.” He gave Dante a sly look. “My wife might be easily fooled, but I’m not.”

Dante took a deep breath. This deal hinged on his next words. He looked across at Abby and she smiled at him. It felt like a sucker punch to his stomach. She was beautiful. He turned to Paolo. “Pride can make a man lose all perspective.”

“So why bring her back now? Is it to make me feel more inclined to sell my company to you?”

“Tell me something. You love your wife, that’s obvious. Yet you never had children. Does it not destroy you to have no son to hand your company to?”

“We were not blessed with children. My fault, not my wife’s. She was desperate for a child. I offered to let her go, to be free to marry another, but I was blessed by God. She refused because she loves me.”

“You never adopted.”

“No. For various private reasons.”

Dante nodded. “I want children. I want my family’s lineage and the company my father sacrificed so much for to be safe.”

“Ah! I see. The mortality card. You want children and Abby is still your wife. This drive to suddenly procreate has nothing to do with these tests you’re having.”

“How did you find—never mind. You’ve done your homework,” he said with annoyance.

“Would you expect anything less from me? So, are you ill? Should I worry that you won’t be at the head of the Lombardi Group for long?”

“No. I’m fine. The tests are simply a precaution.”

Paolo looked across at Abby. “Does your wife know about your hospital checks?”

“No. And I don’t want her to.”

“I see.” And he took a sip of his drink. “I admire your need to protect your family, but that woman loves you. It’s not fair to keep a part of yourself from her. What are you afraid of? I’m seventy-five years old. I’ve lived a wonderful life. Not because of my company—that can’t keep you warm at night, it can’t ease your hurts, nor share your triumphs. Delores is the most important thing in my world.”

“My family is my world.”

“Isn’t Abby part of that family?” He patted Dante on the shoulder. “Take your charming wife home. I’ll let you know my answer by the end of the week.”

“You’re quiet,” Abby said in the car on the way home. “I’m sorry if my acting wasn’t up for the job.” She couldn’t hide the hurt in her tone. “At least I can strike off one part of my deal.”

“Sorry, yes. Thank you. You were magnificent. Delores loves you, and Paolo thinks I’m an idiot for leaving you in England for so long.”

“We passed the test then. It’s just you don’t appear very pleased. I thought you’d be happier. Isn’t this why you urgently needed me back in your life?”

“Hmm. Pardon? Yes. Yes, it was.”

Something was wrong. If their act as a besotted husband and wife had worked, Dante should be ecstatic.

“Then why are we not celebrating? You’ve got what you wanted. You’ve got your company and you’ve got me back in your bed. Why the long face?”

“Perhaps what I’ve wished for has changed.”

“Has it?”

He didn’t respond. He merely took her hand in his.

Chapter Eleven

Over the next few weeks, Dante was more giving of his time and body, his lovemaking leaving her wanting more like an addict craving her next fix. She couldn’t wait to hear the purr of his Porsche pulling up in front of the villa each afternoon. Her body recognized the sound and knew the pleasure that would follow as they indulged in heart-stopping, exquisite “afternoon delight.”

With him, her life was so blissful it seemed almost unreal.

The only blip on her radar was the same problem they’d always had. Dante refused to slow down. He worked long hours and kept her at arm’s length where his business was concerned.

Dante’s passion was work, and it irked her that he still didn’t trust her enough to share a very important part of his life. Why did he continue to shut her out?

She stopped chewing the pencil with an exasperated sigh. Abby told herself to stop procrastinating. She had a lot of work to get through this afternoon before her walk with Nana, and then her dinner at Il Casino restaurant with Dante. She shifted uneasily in her chair, tried to suppress the guilt that was making her feel slightly sick, and opened her laptop. She knew she should tell Dante that she was still working, even though her bookstore was in Southport. Dante had never supported her desire to work. He was old-fashioned, wanting his wife at home.

Colin and the manager who’d been employed by Dante to oversee her “little bookstore” didn’t think to report to Dante about the online side of her business. The man obviously assumed she had told Dante, since she was running things as usual.

Her queasiness intensified. Dante hadn’t asked about the store so she hadn’t volunteered any information. Not telling him was wrong and she knew it. She looked furtively around the study, worried he was reading the screen over her shoulder. She suppressed shivers of unease.
Relax
. He was at work and wouldn’t be home for ages.

Today was like many days. Her grandmother rested during the heat of the day. Then they would take a walk through the vineyard in the mildness of the autumn afternoon. She needed something to do each day. She refused to sit waiting for Dante to spare her his time.

Her grandmother had been instructed to walk every day, and she was making remarkable progress. Right at this moment, Nana was busy teaching Rachele how to make pavlova, and with Dante out of the villa, Abby wanted this opportunity to check on business and ensure that the latest reviews had been loaded by her at-home book reviewers.

Abby chewed her bottom lip, angry with herself for not having the guts to tell Dante the truth. She knew why she waited to tell him. She hoped to prove how well she could cope with family, him, and her own business. Then perhaps he’d relent and let her continue to run the online side of On the Shelf, even when she had a child.

Her heart gave a small lurch. Child. She placed a hand on her stomach, wondering if, even now, a tiny spark of life was growing. Her body flooded with warmth at the idea of their child. She couldn’t think of a better house to raise a child in, full of love and family, or a better father for her baby. Dante would move heaven and earth to ensure their child was loved, protected, and provided for. She smiled. He’d likely spoil the children rotten.

“You look happy.”

Engrossed in her happy family vision, Abby hadn’t heard Nana enter. She beamed at her grandmother. “I am.”

“Dante looks happy, too. Or should I say satisfied.” Her grandmother ignored her blush. “I bet he’s disappointed you’ve got your appointment this afternoon. There’s no reason for him to come home early. Katarina told me she’s never known her son to spend so much time away from work. I told her he’s making up for lost—”

“Damn.” Abby shut down her computer and gathered her papers. “Sorry to interrupt, Nana, but I completely forgot about my appointment.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“What on earth for?” Her grandmother’s look of pity strengthened Abby’s backbone. “I’m only going in for a chat and an ultrasound. It’s nothing.”

“You can’t lie to me. We both hate hospitals. Besides, I want to hear if the doctor’s initial diagnosis is correct.”

Abby didn’t stop what she was doing, hoping her grandmother didn’t notice the flinch in her shoulders. “Endometriosis? If it is endo, it’s not the end of the world, Nana.”

Her grandmother stilled her hand. “I hope that is all it is. The idea of you sick—”

“I’m fine. Really. Don’t upset yourself.”

Her grandmother’s stricken look faded and she hugged Abby tight. “I know. But I like that I have someone to worry over.” She stepped back. “Pietro’s bringing the car around for you. I knew I’d have to remind you. Sometimes when your laptop’s open, you forget everything but your business.”

She kissed her nana’s cheek as she brushed past. “Tell Pietro I won’t be long.” She ran up the stairs to freshen up before driving into Florence for her doctor’s appointment.

“I’m almost one hundred percent sure of my diagnosis, but only a laparoscopic operation will confirm endometriosis. I’ll get the nurse to schedule a procedure, and if I find any lesions I’ll laser them off.” Dr. Molinari looked pleased with himself.

Abby at last had an understanding of why she’d been in so much pain during her menstrual cycle. She was suffering from endometriosis. If they could do something to minimize the pain she’d be pleased.

“We’ll try to fit you in as soon as possible.”

“That would be fabulous. My husband and I are trying for a child.”

The doctor’s head lifted and he stared at her with a pitying look.

“Do you know much about this condition?”

She shook her head.

He looked toward the nurse beside him and they shared a look. He pulled out a pamphlet and handed it to her. “Please read as much about the condition as possible. I’m sorry to have to inform you, but depending on the lesions and damage, some women find it difficult or near impossible to conceive.”

Her heart stuttered, she couldn’t have heard correctly. Did he just say she might not be able to conceive? But she was only twenty-three years old.

“Depending on the amount of inflammation and scar tissue, you may even need a hysterectomy.” At her anguished cry, he added, “That’s worst-case scenario. But even so, it may be difficult for an egg to reach your ovaries. Alternatively, we often find that the lining of the uterus is thinner in women with endometriosis, and this may make it difficult for the embryo to implant.” He must have seen the shock on her face. “But until I do the laparoscopic procedure we won’t know more.”

The nurse took her ice-cold hand in hers. “It is a shock, no? But let’s not dwell on what could be until the doctor has examined you internally.”

“So I might be fine?”

The doctor said nothing. The nurse merely gave her a worried look.

“Oh, one more thing. If you do find out you’re pregnant, you must come for a scan immediately. There is a higher risk of ectopic pregnancies.”

She looked at the calm faces sitting in front of her and wanted to smash their pitying looks. They spoke as if they were telling her she simply had the common cold. What they were telling her shattered her life into a million pieces of hurt. She might not be able to have children.

Dante’s children.

Her children.

Their children.

Once Dante bought Paolo Zanetti’s company, all he’d want her for was to provide him with a son. She put her hand over her mouth to stop the bile escaping. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

The nurse handed her a bowl and she threw up. She closed her eyes on the pain. Dante. She’d have to tell Dante. Would he think she’d deceived him? Would he ask her to leave? Tears welled in her eyes and she struggled to hold them back. “If I have the operation will it improve my chances of having children?”

“Yes, usually it helps by as much as forty percent.”

He was talking cold percentages when she had to deal with real emotions. Her world was crumbling around her, and she had no one to share it with.

“Look, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s wait and see what I discover. You might find you have a mild case. Pain doesn’t signify—one lesion in a painful position may mean a mild case or a more complicated one. Try not to worry.”

Try not to worry! She might never have a child. Suddenly, all she wanted was to have Dante’s child. She choked back a sob. She needed some fresh air.

The minute she emerged from her appointment at the hospital, Abby sent the car home without her. She told the driver she wanted to do some shopping and would take a cab home. She didn’t know how she’d kept her composure when the smiling driver asked if she wanted him to come back and fetch her and her purchases. She couldn’t go back and face the interrogation. Not yet. She was still too upset to be a good liar. Her grandmother would be able to read her like an open book.

So she walked around the Florence piazza, too shocked to even notice the grandeur and romance of the square. Usually she would drink in the statues, the majestic buildings, and the history, and life would feel good. Today nothing was going to make her feel good, not after the diagnosis she’d been given.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. There had to be a mistake. She was only twenty-three years old. Women had children well into their thirties, some even forties. If only she’d stayed with Dante and not wasted the last three years. But like any young woman, she’d thought she’d have plenty of time to have children. At nineteen she had felt like she had all the time in the world. How ironic that now that she had made her peace with becoming a mother, was actually ready for motherhood, wanted motherhood, it might be denied her.

Dr. Molinari’s words echoed in her brain. He’d told her she may need a hysterectomy. Only now were the implications of those words beginning to sink into her dazed brain. Her legs, finally too shaky to hold her, forced her to find a chair at one of the cafés on the edge of the piazza.

She watched the children chasing pigeons across the square, listened to their laughter, and watched their doting mothers who, although they were trying to have coffee with their friends, were aware of every move their children made.

The loss struck her hard. She couldn’t stop shaking from a combination of anger, fear, and immense sorrow. Funny that as the doctor calmly told her the percentages all she could picture was her future with Dante and their brood of at least five children. She’d sworn since her brother and parents’ deaths she’d make up for being an only surviving child by producing a large family. She didn’t want any of her children to be lonely the way she was while growing up. She was grateful for the love she’d received from her grandmother, but it didn’t take the place of a sibling.

“Papa!” cried a small boy as he raced across the square, scattering pigeons, intent on reaching his father’s outstretched arms.

Abby couldn’t breathe. How would she tell Dante? He’d want to move forward with the divorce now that she couldn’t give him what he truly desired—a child. He didn’t want to bring shame on the Lombardi family with divorce, but not having children was likely worse and he would seek divorce for that.

Her heart hurt and she rubbed her chest trying to get it to ease. She’d lose Dante.

“Contessa Lombardi, are you all right?”

Abby drew her gaze away from the heartbreaking picture of father and son walking hand-and-hand around the tables nearby. Carla, the woman who’d been in Dante’s arms the night she’d returned home, stood before her, her face etched with concern.

“Should I call Dante for you?”

“No. Don’t do that, please…”

Carla didn’t even ask. She took a seat across from Abby and called the waiter over.

“Have you ordered?” Not waiting for a reply she said, “Two espressos please,” in Italian. She waited until the order was taken before speaking. “I know we did not start off, how do you say, on the best feet, but I’ve known Dante for many years and I’d like to become your friend, too.”

“I can’t remember you being around when I first married Dante. He did, however, mention you occasionally.” Abby sighed. “When he was picking fault with me, he would hold up this woman, Carla, whom I’d never met, as the paragon of womanhood.”

Carla laughed. The sound seemed so out of place given Abby’s news.

“That is because he was never my boyfriend or husband. Nor would he want to be,” she added hurriedly. “I was in Antarctica studying plant life under the snow when you married Dante. I’m a botanist. Plants are my passion. Plants that have medicinal applications, in particular. I’m heading back to Brazil in six weeks for another twelve months. I’m so excited I can hardly wait. The Amazon is the pot at the end of my rainbow.”

Abby didn’t want to have this polite conversation while her world disintegrated around her, so she remained silent, hoping Carla would take the hint. Carla must have sensed her disposition.

“Why don’t you tell me what has upset you? Sometimes it helps to talk to a stranger.”

Abby felt her eyebrows rise. “A stranger who happens to be best friends with my husband?”

“Has Dante done something to upset you?
Grazie
,” she said to the waiter who brought their coffees. “I know how difficult he can be. But he has deep feelings for you.”

That made Abby almost choke on the strong coffee she’d just sipped. Placing the coffee cup back down, she said, “Perhaps you don’t know Dante as well as you think.”

“I tried to talk Dante out of the little scene in his den the night you arrived at his villa, but he would not listen. Why do you think it was so important to him to make it appear that we were lovers?”

“Revenge?”

“I wonder if
you
know Dante,” Carla said sarcastically. “You should know he would never be so petty.”

Abby leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her head resting on her clasped hands. Her bad mood made her temper flare. “Then why don’t you enlighten me since you seem to know him so well.”

“He wanted to see your reaction. He wanted to know you cared. Why would he do that if he were not still in love with you?”

“Dante has never been in love with me.”