Chapter Nine
Briony made it off of the private jet with less than four hours of sleep in the last forty-eight, and a screaming baby in her arms. The security detail she had been given escorted her through the airport, taking her along private hallways that were nearly empty.
"Shh, shh, baby, please, I know it's been a long trip. Just a little longer, all right?"
Eva paused for just a moment, long enough for Briony to get her hopes up, and then she resumed her wail. God, at least she didn't have to carry her luggage through. It had been handled for her.
Briony expected to be met by a driver, as she had been at her home in LA, but to her surprise, it was Marco waiting for her in the private garage that she had been taken to. He looked so handsome that it nearly took her breath away. He was dressed casually, but it was clear that probably even his underwear was worth more than the entire outfit she was wearing. After fourteen hours on the plane, she knew she looked like a garbage can.
Marco, for his part, didn't say anything about her appearance. Instead, he only cocked his head with concern at Eva.
"Is she all right? Shall I have a doctor meet us?"
Briony shook her head blearily. "She's just overtired, overstimulated and hungry. She wouldn't take any milk while she was on the plane, but apparently a lot of babies are like that..."
She herself was sorely aware of how overdue they were for a feeding. Her breasts felt overly full and slightly aching. She had slid pads into her bra, and hopefully they hadn't leaked through.
"So, home?" Marco asked, and she was too exhausted to even start to argue.
"Yes. Please."
With a surprisingly tender touch, he guided her into the limo, which incongruously held a car seat.
"Thought of everything," Briony said with a bleary smile, and Marco grinned at her a little. They got Eva buckled in together, and the little girl whimpered with exhaustion, making Briony's heart ache.
"Can't you sleep a little, baby?" she asked, and for a miracle, Eva yawned. As the limo started its silk-smooth journey, Eva fell into a deep sleep, and Briony nearly wanted to cry with relief.
"Tough trip?" Marco asked, and it was such a sweet, normal thing to ask.
"She cried for seven hours," Briony said, shaking her head. "She couldn't pop her ears and just had to suffer."
"Poor darling," he murmured. "Poor you. You should get some rest too."
She started to protest that she was fine, but then he drew her against his side. She was all at once painfully aware of how frumpy and tired she looked, how she was exhausted in every bone, but it felt so, so good to be cuddled up next to him.
"It's almost two hours before we get home, and if you want to see the sights of Florence, I'll take you later. Right now, you need rest."
She thought she was still arguing even when she drifted off to sleep, and in her dreams, she was sailing far away with Eva and Marco, all three of them laughing over a bright blue sea.
***
Marco watched Briony practically fall unconscious, and he shook his head with a slight smile. He should have known it would take something like that to knock out such a fierce girl.
It was fascinating. He had shared limos with some of the most beautiful women in the world, but none of them had ever fascinated him so much as the one curled up next to him now. She was pale without makeup, curvy where other women were only slender, and now and again, she let out a high and whistling snore.
He couldn't quite decide if it was in spite of these things or actively because of them that she made him smile. It was just part of what he was deciding was the mystery of Briony.
He had been full of righteous indignation when he had returned to Florence after their admittedly disastrous reunion. He had run the gamut from wanting to cut off all ties with her and Eva, to simply using the immense resources at his disposal to claim Eva as his own, and damn whatever came next.
As he had stormed and plotted, however, two things had grown out of his turmoil. The first was that he needed Eva in his life. He had never thought about children in a dimension other than political and abstract. Seeing the actuality of Eva, needing to hold her and knowing he had no right to do so, was like a pain through him. The second thing he realized was that he wanted Briony as well. In his memory, Briony gleamed like a star, something he had wondered if the real woman herself could ever compete with. After he’d met her in LA, he knew beyond a doubt that she shadowed the memory rather than the other way around. She was brilliant and vibrant, fierce and protective. He had to know more about her, and their kiss upon meeting again after all that time stunned him to his very core.
They were both his, and he had to claim them.
It was a desperate move to bring them to Florence as he had, taking over her job and having her transferred to Florence, but Marco was more than willing to say that he was a desperate man.
However, when he gazed at the sleeping woman and their slumbering child, there was something there that offered him a peace he had never known. There was no desperation when they were together. There was only an ocean of feeling that swelled up with a sweetness that was almost too intense to be borne.
***
Briony awoke when her daughter let out a muffled whimper. For a moment, a pang of fear struck her through. Where was she? This wasn't her car, and where was her apartment? Then her memory returned, and she realized she was in Florence in Marco's limo.
"Are we..."
"Hush, we're home. Come with me."
It was dark outside with just a few pinkish streaks left in the sky. Briony unbuckled a whimpering Eva from her car seat, snuggling her baby against her chest.
"You're okay, sweetie, come on, we'll get you fed..."
She blinked at the grand steps that led up to a house that needed to be properly called a mansion. Marco's hand at her back surprised her for a moment, but then she could feel a deep comfort ride through her.
"It's home," he said softly. "Come on..."
"I was supposed to be given quarters by the university," she murmured, but she followed him up the stairs, too tired and bewildered to fight.
"Yes, and I am supplying those quarters. Let me show you..."
He led her through the marble hallways that looked more like a museum than a place where people lived. She wondered if there was a grand bedchamber or something, but then he led her to what he called the guest wing. Briony watched as Marco opened a door to reveal a comfortable apartment, classically decorated but modern in every respect.
"I think this will suit your needs," he said, and she could tell that it would. It was easily twice as large as her own apartment at home, with two bedrooms attached to a living room and even a small kitchen.
He started to say something else, but Briony interrupted.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out. "But I need to feed Eva."
"Of course," he said, looking slightly guilty.
She waited, but he showed no indication of leaving. She wondered if that should embarrass her, but a rebellious streak had appeared. He could leave if he wished. She wasn't doing anything wrong.
She seated herself on the couch and tugged open the front of her wrap dress. She had never really worn dresses until she had Eva, but she practically lived in them now. Her breasts felt far heavier than usual, and when Eva, still just waking up, latched on, she breathed a deep sigh of relief.
Briony fell into a kind of gentle daze as her daughter suckled, at peace with the world for at least a little longer. Minutes passed before she glanced up at Marco.
He stood close by, an expression of awe on his face. There was wonder there and also longing. It would have taken a stronger woman than Briony to deny him.
"Come here. Sit with us."
He came as if he had been waiting for the invitation, sitting as close to her as he could. Briony shifted her daughter to her other breast, covering the first, and she must have winced because Marco stiffened.
"Does it hurt?"
"It's a little sore, but that's because she didn't get a chance to drink before. It'll be far better once we're on a schedule."
He made a soft sound, and he watched their daughter drink with a fascination that warmed Briony. Perhaps he could learn about women's character with a daughter of his own. Perhaps there was hope for all three of them together...
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked as Eva finished, and Briony grinned.
"Here, grab a towel. I'll show you how to burp her."
She watched with a kind of tired amusement as the billionaire Italian prince struggled to burp and clean a baby for the first time. He was just fine the first time, but she wondered if he would still be so fascinated the eight time, the twentieth, the hundredth time. Were they just a novelty for him? Only time could tell.
"Here, I've set her up with a nursery. I had an expert put it together, but if you have any concerns, I'll take care of them."
Eva was still exhausted from the stimulus of a new day. After her meal, she was already nodding off to sleep again, and Briony was grateful to lie her down in a crib that likely cost as much as some small cars.
"She's so very beautiful," Marco murmured, gazing down as Briony covered her daughter with a small blanket.
"She is that. She looks just like you. Same dark hair, same dark eyes."
He shot Briony an amused glance. "She has your features as well. She'll be a beauty."
"I'll be happy if she's just happy."
"I will do everything in my power to make sure of it," he said, and Briony couldn't help but grin.
"Good."