Convenient Brides: The Italian's Convenient Wife / His Inconvenient Wife / His Convenient Proposal

The sweet, lazy pace of their second loving stole her breath away. This, she thought, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as the pleasure built to a slow crescendo, is how it will be between us from now on. Sometimes fast and furious, and sometimes so unbearably tender that it will make me cry.

It won’t matter if he can’t say the words, because I’ll feel his love, just as I do now. Then I’ll be brave enough to tell him things I might not dare to say in the bright light of morning. Share secrets that won’t seem so frightening under cover of night. Tell him the truth about the babies. And he’ll forgive me, because he’ll see that I did what It hought was best at the time.

The past won’t matter anymore, because we’ll have the future, and we’ll have our children. We’ll make up for lost time, and accept the way fate has brought us together again. Vanessa and Ermanno’s deaths won’t seem such a terrible waste, but, rather, part of God’s greater, grander plan.

“Caroline,” he whispered urgently, straining against her.

Inflamed by the passion in his voice, she replied, “I’m here,” and contracted around him with a soft cry as his seed ran free.

Chapter Seven

HAD it not been for the perpetual shadow of Vanessa’s and Ermanno’s deaths, the next two weeks would have numbered among the happiest of Callie’s life. In line with Paolo’s wishes, everyone stayed the extra two weeks on the island, although she’d have preferred it to be just he, she, and the children, seeing it as the ideal chance to meld them into a foursome without any outside interference.

But, mindful of too many changes at once, Paolo asked his parents to stay behind, too. “Maintaining a sense of continuity with the familiar,” he reasoned, “will help the twins accept their new living arrangements more readily.”

His insight and obvious deep concern for them warmed Callie’s heart. How could she help but adore him, when he gave so much of himself to children he didn’t even know were really his? Coupled with her own love for them, it could only strengthen the odds in favor of the marriage.

She also suspected Paolo had spoken with his father; perhaps gone so far as to warn him to curb his hostility, because Salvatore grew, if not all warm and fuzzy toward her, at least not as openly antagonistic.

“It is good to see you getting along better with our grandchildren,” he decreed at breakfast, a few days after she’d accepted Paolo’s proposal. “I believe they begin to feel some affection for you.”

Oh, she hoped so—she thought so! Certainly, they’d shown themselves more willing to include her in their activities. “Will you come, too, Zia Caroline?” Clemente wanted to know, the afternoon Paolo suggested a sunset cruise in thet hirty-nine-foot luxury cruiser moored in the protected marina below the villa.

“Of course,” she told him, and had to blink back a rush of tears at the smile that lit up his face.

Her baby boy…her son! Strong and handsome as his father, but with a gentleness that reminded Callie of Lidia, and of her own mother. How proud Audrey Leighton would have been, of both her grandchildren.

Another day, Gina decided the time was ripe for a game of hide-and-seek. “Zia Caroline and I will play against you and Clemente,” she ordered her uncle, shepherding everyone outside to an iron gate overlooking a formal garden in the grand Italian style, “and you will not cheat.”

“If you say so,” Paolo replied meekly, which made Callie smile.

Gina was definitely her father’s child, strong-willed, forthright, and independent. She made up her own mind about things, regardless of outside influence. “I didn’t much like you at first, even though Nonna said I must,” she’d announced bluntly the previous evening, while she allowed Callie to braid her hair,“but you’re actually quite nice now that I’ve got to know you better. I wouldn’t mind if you stayed with us forever. It’s not as good as when Mommy was here, of course, but it’s nice to have someone who knows how to do my hair. Nonna isn’t very good at it, and when Zio Paolo once tried, he made a terrible mess of it.”

“We’ll hide first,” she decided now, directing her brother and Paolo to cover their eyes and count to a hundred. Then taking Callie’s hand, she ran with her along a crushed gravel path lined with marble statuary. “Follow me, Zia,” she said. “I know exactly the place to hide.”

Skirting a pond filled with lily pads floating around an elaborate stone fountain, she ducked between two stone benches and through an opening carved in a hedge. “Behind this,” she whispered, pulling aside a trailing vine to reveal a natural grotto filled with ferns. “They’ll never find us here. This is my secret place. I’ve never shown it to Clemente. Only Mommy knows about it…” Her voice wavered briefly. “And now you.”

“I’m very honored that you’d share it with me,” Callie said thickly, hearing the sudden desolation in the child’s voice, and desperately wanting to comfort her. But she knew well enough that Gina wouldn’t welcome a display of affection she hadn’t initiated herself.

“You won’t tell anyone else, will you, Zia Caroline?”

“No,” she promised. “Nor will I ever come here unless you invite me.”

Sighing, Gina wandered deeper into the grotto. “Mommy and I used to light candles sometimes,” she said, suddenly despondent. “Up there, see, in those little glass jars. Then we’d sit on cushions we brought from the house, and talk about private things that boys and fathers don’t understand. But I don’t think the candles would be a good idea today.”

“No,” Callie said softly. “That’s something special that belonged just to you and your mommy. Also, we don’t want to give ourselves away, and there’s enough light filtering through from outside that we can see quite well.”

In fact, in the dim green light and with the vine swinging gently in the breeze, sending waves of shadow rippling over the sandy floor, the effect was a little like being in an underwater cave.

Suddenly Gina tipped her head to one side, listening intently, then pressed a finger to her lips, her mood brightening. “I can hear them coming,” she whispered. “Let’s hide at the very back. We can sit on the rocks.”

It was darker there, and much cooler. Enough that Callie shivered and wished she’d worn a jacket over her light sweater. Gina must have felt the chill, too, because without waiting to be invited, she curled up close beside her.

Callie held her breath, ever so casually draped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, and braced herself for a rejection that never came. Instead, to her indescribable pleasure, Gina snuggled closer and said, “You feel nice and warm, Zia…just the way Mommy used to.”

Approaching footsteps ruled out the possibility of a verbal reply, and just as well. The aching lump in her throat would have prevented Callie from doing more than choke on any attempt at a response. Instead, she acknowledged the enormous compliment by tucking Gina more securely in the curve of her arm.

“They couldn’t have come this far,” Paolo said, from immediately outside the entrance to the cave. An inch closer, and he’d have stepped past the vine and found them. “There’s nothing here but a path to the beach, and we’d see them if they’d gone there.”

“Gina often comes this way. I’ve watched her, and even followed her once, but I lost her. Sometimes, she’s almost too smart for me,” Clemente said, an admission that left Gina snorting on a giggle.

Paolo cleared his throat, rather loudly, Callie thought. “We’d better double back, then. They might have run behind the hedge and are already waiting at the gate. If they’re not, we’ll look in the atrium. There are all kinds of places they could hide in there.”

Their voices faded as they hiked back toward the villa. “Boys are so easy to fool,” Gina crowed, once silence descended again. “They’re not a bit like us, are they, Zia Caroline?”

“No,” she said, tearful emotion still swirling dangerously close to the surface. To hold her daughter like this, to share confidences, and private jokes, were gifts beyond price, and she wouldn’t have traded them for all the riches in the world. “Should we make a run for the gate now, do you think?”

Gina shook her head. “I quite like just sitting here with you,” she said shyly, and just like that added the touch of perfection to an already extraordinary day.

Later, over predinner drinks, Paolo cornered Callie, and under cover of the general buzz of conversation, murmured, “Did you enjoy hiding out with your niece in the grotto?”

She laughed, taken aback. “You guessed we were there?”

“Of course I guessed! Even if I didn’t know this island like the back of my hand, I’d have been hard-pressed not to hear the tittering filtering through that convenient screen of shrubbery.”

“Then why didn’t you call us on it?”

Warming her to the core with his slow smile, he said, “The two of you seemed to be bonding. I decided it was best not to disturb you.”

Flustered at the way his gaze lingered on her, she averted her eyes and said, “You do that rather often lately, you know. Your parents will begin to notice.”

“Do what?”

“Smile at me, look at me, as if we’re up to something wicked.”

“But we are, Caroline. We’re secretly engaged.”

“The way you’re behaving, it won’t be a secret much longer.”

She wasn’t exaggerating. He frequently locked glances with her—across the dinner table, or while they were taking morning coffee with his parents in the solarium, or during an evening game of chess between him and his father—and the look in his eyes, the curve of his mouth, would send the heat rushing to her face. They were the smiles, the glances, a lover bestowed on his lady—the kind that said he couldn’t wait to undress her.

And it seemed that he couldn’t. Every night without fail, after the rest of the household slept, he’d come to her. She’d lie in her bed, her body naked beneath the sheet and trembling with expectation. The door would open, and she’d see his silhouette outlined briefly against the night light shining in the upstairs hall before he stepped, silent as a shadow, into the room. A second later, the lock would snick softly in place, and he’d cross to the bed.

She’d rise up on the mattress to meet him, and they’d come together in a flurry of eager hands, and hungry lips, and labored breathing. He’d kiss her all over, bring her to orgasm with his finger, his tongue. Then, while she was still shimmering with ecstasy and he was thick and heavy with desire, he’d plunge inside her, and rock so urgently that she sometimes wondered how the condom he always used didn’t split apart.

Oh, yes! Regardless of whatever else might occur during the day, she could always count on the nights!

“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” he suggested, catching her as she finished lunch, toward the end of the second week. “We need to talk.”