‘I’M SORRY, GEORGIA. I had no idea.’
Matteo had looked surprised when Georgia opened the door of the cottage with her own keys. And then he’d looked stricken as the penny had dropped.
‘I know.’ She shrugged. ‘I think Kate and Luke have got this idea that we could...that we might...’
Matteo pushed his fingers through his hair. ‘Take me back to town. I can find a hotel.’
The fact that it was Matteo who didn’t want to be here perversely made Georgia more inclined to let him stay.
It was a battle between her head and her heart that was being played out in real life instead of in her imagination. And right now her heart was winning.
‘It’s okay. As Kate said, it’s logical. You need a place to stay for a little while. There’s an empty room here. For tonight anyway.’
‘I would never force myself on you like this. You know that, don’t you?’
Oddly, Kate did know that. Instinctively, she knew that this man’s moral code would prevent him from ever hurting anyone—especially a woman—with no consideration taken for any personal injury that could be the result.
This situation should have been making her more afraid than ever.
But, weirdly, it was making her feel safer.
This was her turf and she was in control. And it was an intervention in a way that Kate knew nothing about.
Georgia didn’t want to live with unresolved guilt for the rest of her life. Being under the same roof as Matteo was going to force her to find the solution, wasn’t it?
Not that she had any idea what that solution might be, mind you.
Emigrating to New Zealand was starting to seem like less of a crazy idea...
* * *
By the time Georgia got up the next morning, Matteo was already gone. There wasn’t even a dirty cup in the sink to suggest that he’d been in the kitchen but she could sense that he had been.
It felt different...
As if the emptiness of her house over the last few weeks had been smudged around the edges.
How had he managed to be so tidy? And so quiet? Had Matteo actually slipped out of the house at some point during the night and gone off to find a hotel?
The notion should have been a relief but it was curiously alarming at the same time. So much so that Georgia climbed the stairs again, which was getting to be quite an effort, in order to peep around the partially open door of Kate’s old room.
Matteo’s leather satchel lay on floor in front of the wooden chair in the corner of the room. The clothes he’d been wearing last night were carelessly draped over the back of the chair.
Georgia’s breath came out in a sigh that felt like relief.
He was coming back, then...
Her gaze drifted sideways to the bed. The patchwork quilt had been pulled up but it wasn’t as smooth as Kate would have left it. She could almost see the indent of where Matteo’s body had been.
Her breath got stuck. Maybe that was why she was feeling a bit weird. Dizzy even...
There was definitely an edge of confusion.
Her hours of work were far more relaxed now, so Georgia had time to sit in the sun with her cup of tea and toast. Time to explore what it was that was nagging at the back of her mind and causing her confusion.
She missed Kate. This was the best thing about having a bestie. You got to think aloud and the supportive audience could help pinpoint not only what the real issue was but what you wanted to do about it.
But she couldn’t bat this around with Kate. She was on her own.
And it wasn’t that hard to mentally tiptoe closer to what she was afraid to look at so closely.
All it took was to allow an image of Matteo Martini to fill her mind. Those dark eyes that could see too much. That layer of genuine interest and concern in combination with a smile that was undeniably sinful.
He just oozed charm, didn’t he?
But he also made her feel safe.
I would never force myself on you like this. You know that, don’t you?
Of course he wouldn’t. He had a moral code that was so iron clad, he would never dream of lying. Or cheating on someone. He would simply walk away from someone who didn’t share those values.
But he’d come back...
Because of her? Because the significance of what they’d found with each other was enough to be making him reconsider those iron-clad rules?
Because he really did want to be her friend?
No. He wanted to be more than that. He’d offered to marry her, for heaven’s sake. To be a father to her child.
And now he was here but he’d taken a huge step back. He was leaving it up to her to choose whether she closed the respectful gap he was keeping.
No wonder she was confused.
Matteo was nothing like any man she had ever known.
Certainly nothing like her father...
And there it was. The real issue.
What if her father had used charm instead of violence? If he’d simply been there in her life and let her make a choice of whether she wanted him closer or not? If a genuine concern for her welfare and happiness had been there in his eyes and he’d had a smile that suggested she was the only person in the world who mattered at that moment?
Life would have been very different, wouldn’t it?
She could have lived her early life without the fear of that pain—both emotional and physical.
She could have been like the kids she’d envied so much. The ones who’d had a daddy at home to tease them sometimes but protect them always.
Oh, boy...this was huge. Georgia tried to stop the thought that was coming at her as relentlessly as a tsunami but she couldn’t.
Did she really want her children to grow up without a father?
It was almost as if she had Kate sitting here with her. Understanding at least part of her new dilemma. Asking her what she wanted to do about it.
Suggesting that the only the thing to do might be to tell Matteo the truth.
The shock of allowing that possibility any head room at all was enough to push Georgia to her feet.
She needed to get to work. To work so hard, in fact, that she could close the lid of this ‘too hard’ basket very firmly indeed.
* * *
‘Oh, my God...what is that smell?’
‘Lasagne. A secret recipe that’s been handed down in my family for generations.’
‘You can cook?’
‘Anyone who bears the Martini name has to know how to make the perfect lasagne. Just ask any one of my sisters.’
‘Oh...’ Georgia let the bag full of the papers she had brought home slip from her hand.
She was late. Coming home to a house that had its lights twinkling in the darkness had been a lift all by itself. Entering a kitchen that was redolent with the most delicious smell she had ever encountered was actually overwhelming enough to make her feel unsteady on her feet.
Maybe that was because her feet were so swollen today. Or that she’d been pushing herself so hard at work for the last week or more that she was exhausted. It had worked, though. Any issues that were bothering her hadn’t been allowed any significant head space and Matteo had made it easier out of work hours, too, with the way he had been using her home as little more than a hotel, always gone so early and often back so late their paths had barely crossed.
Which made this scenario even more blindsiding.
‘You’ve been working too hard,’ Matteo told her. ‘And I’ve been rude. I’ve hardly been here. I had a night out with the guys from work. With Luke. At the gym. Anyway... This is my way of saying thank you. Please...sit down. I thought it would be more comfortable for you on the couch. Can I get you something to drink?’
There was bottle of red wine open on the coffee table in the small sitting room, between a basket of freshly sliced baguette and a bowl of what looked like a very crispy green salad.
The wine was tempting but Georgia’s hand went automatically to her belly, where it was rewarded with the bump of a kick from a tiny foot.
‘A water would be great.’
‘Sparkling or still?’
‘Oh...sparkling, please. I could pretend it’s champagne.’
‘Which is exactly why I bought some.’ Matteo’s smile curled more widely. ‘I hadn’t forgotten your preference.’
He had brought a chilled bottle of champagne to the table at the end of the competition, hadn’t he? For her. The first move in that dance that had led them to its memorably intimate conclusion.
Georgia sank onto the couch. The wave of emotion threatened to drown her but she was too tired to fight.
Maybe she could just float for a while, she decided, easing off shoes that had become far too tight.
Every mouthful of this unexpected dinner was delicious, possibly because of far more than the actual taste of the food. What was astonishingly powerful was this feeling of being cared for.
Of feeling...safe...
Oh, man... Georgia took a large gulp of her water. She hadn’t been this close to crying since she’d first found out she was pregnant. Or when she’d been standing there in that ancient chapel, listening to Luke and Kate pledge their undying love for each other.
Thank goodness the chirp of Matteo’s phone broke the atmosphere.
‘Ah...’ His face broke into a grin as he opened his text message. ‘Bel bambino... Look.’ He held the screen for Georgia to see. ‘That’s Arlo, waving hello to his uncle while he’s having his bath.’
A fat, adorable baby with soap bubbles adorning his curly, dark hair was beaming at the camera, his chubby arms held up as if he was asking for a cuddle.
‘Arlo?’
‘My youngest nephew. Siena’s first baby. Adrianna’s pregnant again now. She’ll be having her third, after a bit of a gap after the twins. I’ll bet that will make Allegra jealous so I expect there’ll be a new addition to her family soon as well.’
‘How many nephews and nieces have you got?’
Matteo squinted as he concentrated and Georgia lost count as Italian names tumbled from his lips. He was scrolling through the photos on his phone at the same time. He leaned back on the couch for a moment in silence and Georgia watched the expression on his face change. His grin faded into something far more poignant and then he actually sniffed and rubbed at his forehead as if fighting back tears.
‘What?’ Georgia asked quietly.
‘It’s a video. My nieces—Mita and Lia. It was their third birthday last year.’
He tapped the arrow on the centre of the screen as he tilted it towards her. The sound of giggles filled the room. Two identical small girls wearing frilly white dresses, with flowers in their hair, were climbing all over a man who was lying on the grass.
Matteo. He was laughing, too, as he scooped a child under each arm and sat up, kissing first one girl and then the other. One of the twins wriggled free and reached into the grass to pluck a daisy, which she triumphantly presented to her uncle.
‘Grazie mille, tesoro. Ti amo...’
The words didn’t need any translation. That expression on Matteo’s face was tearing at a part of Georgia’s heart.
‘You really love kids, don’t you?’ she murmured, as the video ended.
‘Of course. They are the most important thing in the world. I ask for nothing more than to have the gift of my own family one day.’ Matteo’s smile was still poignant. ‘No. I want more than that. I want to live to be a grandfather so that I don’t leave my family with the sadness that we have.’
‘You lost your father?’
‘Many years ago. But I miss him every day.’
‘And your mother?’
‘My mama—Teresa Martini—is the proudest grandmother on the face of the earth. She welcomes every new baby as if it’s the greatest gift possible. And she moves in with each of my sisters, every time. For at least a month after the birth.’ Matteo’s gaze was sombre. ‘I’m sad that you don’t have your mother to help you. It’s a time when family comes together. Not just to celebrate but to make life easier.’ He was frowning now. ‘How will you manage, Georgie?’
She swallowed hard. ‘I’ll manage.’
‘You must miss your mother so much.’
Georgia nodded slowly. As the birth of her babies drew closer she was missing that rock in her life more and more every day. She had to press her lips tightly together to cope with a stab of loss that was the biggest yet but she could still feel them tremble.
Only for a heartbeat, but Matteo must have seen her reaction because he lifted his hand and touched her lips with the pad of his thumb, his fingers cupping her cheek and jaw.
It was the most exquisitely tender gesture. In no way sexual but the response of her body and her heart had a kick that was far more powerful.
This...this felt like real love.
The kind that could last a lifetime?
‘It’s not long now, is it?’
‘Um...no...’ Her brain was too tired to try and do the maths that would keep her story straight but if she was a month more pregnant than she really was—as she’d allowed him to believe—that would mean she was due...
Oh, help...next week?
Was Matteo going to push her for an actual date?
No. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was staring at her belly. Looking down, Georgia realised why. She was so used to the rippling sensations of her babies moving within her that she’d almost forgotten how extraordinary it was to see that movement as well as feel it.
She had long ago given up trying to wear anything like uniform pants. She had some comfortable maternity jeans on today, with the silky, stretch fabric of the insert a thin layer under the uniform polo shirt. A shirt that was visibly moving at the moment.
A look of something like reverence claimed Matteo’s features and his gaze, when it captured hers, was the most intense she’d ever seen it.
‘May I?’ he asked softly.
It was impossible not to grant permission with the spell that that look was putting her under, but Georgia had to close her eyes as she felt the gentle weight of his hand outstretched on her belly.
Her skin was aware of the pressure on both sides. Her babies beneath and Matteo’s hand on top.
Their father’s hand.
It was too much. Too wrong...
He had to know the truth, didn’t he?
She turned, tilting her head upwards to catch his gaze, her lips parting ready to release the words he had to hear.
But Matteo’s head was closer than she’d realised. He had tears in his eyes as his gaze locked with hers.
And it took only the smallest movement for his lips to make contact with her own.
A brief, soft kiss. As tender as that touch of his fingers on her face had been.
She could feel his breath on her skin when they finally broke that kiss and his words were no more than a sigh.
‘Ti amo, tesoro mio.’
Again, the words needed no translation. His eyes were telling her exactly what he’d whispered but maybe he hadn’t intended her to understand them. Or even realise that they’d been audible.
How could she could tell him the truth now? If she said anything at all, it was more likely to be that she loved him as well.
And how could she say that when he didn’t know the truth?
It was wrong, too.
Everything about this situation was so wrong. Perfect but twisted. And Georgia had no idea how to fix it.
Something of her dilemma must have shown on her face but Matteo didn’t seem to be bothered. He was smiling at her.
‘I excuse you the dishes,’ he told her. ‘Go to bed, cara. You’re exhausted, yes?’
Georgia nodded. She swallowed hard.
‘Thanks, Matteo.’
‘For what? The food?’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘It was nothing.’
‘It wasn’t nothing. It was...perfect.’
He was moving now. Collecting the empty plates as if this was just a part of a normal, everyday life.
‘I’m glad you liked it. We’ll do it again. We have plenty of time before I have to go back to Luke’s apartment.’
Finally, Georgia could return the smile.
Plenty of time...
That was something else her mother used to say, too.
There’s plenty of time, love.
Give it time...it’ll be okay.
Time heals everything...
There was comfort to be found in those echoes of her mother’s voice.
Hope, even.
* * *
Teresa Martini’s lasagne had been a favourite for Matteo for as long as he could remember but it had just become even more significant in his life.
He’d taken a huge step towards his goal tonight.
He had been permitted to show Georgia a part of how he felt about her. The food he’d made for her hadn’t been rejected. He’d been allowed to share the miracle of feeling the new life stirring within her.
He’d kissed her even. A kiss of nothing more than tenderness because anything else at this point in time was unthinkable.
And even though nothing had been said aloud, he was quite certain that she had felt the same as he had—the profound depth of the connection between them. That she was thinking exactly what he was.
That she was in love...
It was enough of a declaration for now. He wasn’t going to scare her again by trying to force something on her that she wasn’t ready for.
Like too much of his company.
Or too much touching.
Or something stupid like offering to marry her again.
It was hard. Possibly the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he could take this slowly.
He could wait.
Until Georgia showed him that she was ready for more.