Chapter One
Just when you think things are under control . . .
The jarring vibration of her phone dancing across wood made Rachel Caldwell blink her eyes open. Had she fallen asleep at her desk? Again?
Lifting her head from her folded, numb arms, she snagged the phone before it hit the floor in her home office. Well, her only office since the twins had been born. A glance at the screen showed it was almost ten p.m. Why was her sister calling so late? “Hey, Lori. What’s up?”
“I’m out front. I didn’t want to wake the kids. It’s freezing. Hurry.”
Rachel shook the cobwebs from her brain and stood to make her way to the front door of her home in the Denver burbs. Her sister lived only three blocks away since she’d moved into her new husband Deek’s house. The jury was still out if that much closeness was going to be a good thing or not.
As she passed by the mirror in the hallway, she stopped to check for dried-up drool marks on her face. She was safe there, but her hair was a mess, so she ran her hands through it and did the best she could to fix it. She really needed to find time to get new highlights, and a manicure couldn’t hurt. Losing the remaining baby weight should also go on her self-improvement list. Who had the time with eight-month-old twins and a full-time job?
She tugged open the front door, and along with a cool rush of air, in came her identical twin.
As soon as the door was closed behind her, Lori asked, “Are you okay?” She hung her coat up on the hall rack, revealing that she’d driven over in her flannel PJ’s.
“I’m sleep deprived but otherwise still reasonably sane. I think. Why?”
“So, you didn’t see it?” Lori grabbed Rachel’s hand and tugged her toward the den.
“Hello to you too,” Rachel mumbled to her sister’s back.
“Sorry. Hi.” Lori picked up the remote from the coffee table, madly mashing buttons. “Marcello just won an Oscar.”
“Oh. That’s great!” A quick rush of joy for the father of her twins warmed her heart. “I can’t believe I missed that.” She dropped onto the couch. “The kids have been waking each other up all night long with teething pain for three days straight. My brain is barely functioning. I’m a walking zombie.” That and because she hadn’t been able to fall asleep after the last two a.m. episode with the kids so she’d stayed up and read a romance novel. But she’d never tell anyone but her twin that. She had a rep to maintain as someone who was absolutely not interested in romance.
“I think this will pull you out of that haze.” Lori’s eyes cut to Rachel’s. “Marcello just outed you and the kids to millions of Oscar viewers.”
“No!” Rachel sat up and snagged the remote from her sister’s hand to turn up the volume. “He promised he’d never do that.”
Rachel searched until she found the local news. It had just started. Maybe they’d do a recap. Marcello had been up for Best Actor, so surely they’d cover that bit of news. “Did he use our last name?”
“No.” Lori sat on the couch too and then rubbed a hand up and down Rachel’s back. “But I can’t imagine it’ll be too long before the press figures it out. I’m sorry, Rach.”
“This is unbelievable.” Rachel’s blood boiled with anger and betrayal, but mostly with fear for her children’s future. She and Marcello had agreed if he couldn’t commit to being in their lives full-time, it’d be best for their kids’ existence to be kept secret. And to live in Denver, out of the spotlight. Have normal childhoods, not like so many of the spoiled Hollywood kids who regularly made the headlines for their bad behavior. Marcello was the cleanest living, most in-demand leading man in Hollywood. The press would love to finally get some real dirt on him.
Lori gave Rachel a shoulder bump while they waited for the initial commercial break to end. “You want me to have Deek hack into his computers and zap everything?”
It was tempting to use her new brother-in-law’s amazing computer skills to exact revenge, but she didn’t have the heart to do anything so harsh. “I’ll handle it.”
“The same way you ‘handled it’ when you gave Marcello that dumb ultimatum before the kids were born?”
“Very funny.” She had blown things by demanding Marcello start acting like a father and not the busy movie star she’d been dating.
She was a lawyer, for goodness’ sake. She’d known better than to present him with an all-or-nothing offer, but her difficulty trusting men had made her do it. She couldn’t bear for her kids to feel the same abandonment she had after her cheating father had left. That, and because Marcello had secrets he wasn’t sharing.
Marcello was as handsome and charming as one of the heroes in her books. Perfect on the outside but with some deeply hidden mystery about his past. But those stories always had happy endings. Her and Marcello’s love story hadn’t ended well. And her heart still bore the bruises to show for it.
Lori said, “Marcello sounded sincere tonight when he spoke about you guys. Maybe he might have reacted differently to your proposition if you’d told him you’d loved him back then.”
Rachel’s stomached cramped. “I never told you I loved him.” She’d never told any man she loved him. After her father had left and disappointed her as a kid, she’d sworn she’d never put herself in the position to be abandoned by someone she loved ever again. It had hurt too much to risk a repeat of that kind of pain. “I need a glass of wine. Want one?”
“I’ll pour just in case they air his speech. You won’t want to miss it.” Lori stood and crossed the room to the bar. “It was actually pretty sweet. But I still want to kill him on Hannah’s and Ian’s behalf. How could he do that to his kids?”
Rachel was asking herself the same question. She’d just spoken to Marcello the other night. He’d been nervous and excited at the prospect of winning an Oscar.
Lori returned and handed Rachel a glass. “Hello? Anyone home? Where did my tough-ass sister go? Why aren’t you already on the phone with him?”
“I’m being a reasonable adult.” Rachel took a deep drink of wine, then set her glass on the coffee table. “I need to see the evidence before I plan my defense.”
“Seriously? It’s me here, Rach.” Lori shook her head. “You won’t admit you love him even to yourself. That’s why you’re not ripping his lungs out and wrapping them over his head.” Lori took a drink from her wineglass. “Wow. This is really good.”
“Marcello introduced me to it. He has good taste.”
“In women too.” Lori took another sip. “Maybe this is his way of trying to reconcile with you.”
Was it? But she couldn’t take him back romantically. Especially after being so quick to let the door hit him on the butt on his way out of their relationship. “If he wanted me back, he’s had plenty of chances to ask. I talk to him at least four times a week.”
“Really?” Lori’s eyes widened. “You’ve never mentioned that.”
Rachel waved a hand. “We talk mostly about the kids. Now be quiet. I want to hear this.” The opening story on the news was about a fire burning across town. Once that was over, they promised an Oscar recap after the break, and then continued on with some news from Washington.
Could they please hurry up?
Lori whispered, “Do you love him, Rachel?”
That ache in her gut came racing back again. All she knew for sure was that Marcello confused her like no other man ever had. “I don’t know. But it’s pointless to dwell on it, because Avery recently told me some things about him. Bad things that’d make being with him impossible.”
Lori frowned into her wine. “Avery is your friend from law school? The one who introduced you to Marcello?”
“Yes. She still works for him. She told me he auto-deposits money into four people’s accounts every month. Well, five now, including me.”
“You deserve every penny he gives you. I wish you’d spend some of it.”
“I’m fine.” She didn’t need a man to take care of them. All his money went to college funds for their kids. “Anyway, Avery thinks they might be his mistresses. There’s another payment to a boarding school.”
“Boarding school?” Lori set her glass on the table with a clunk. “Do you think he has another kid?”
“I don’t know.” Rachel let out the sigh she’d been holding back. “Avery saw a boy with Marcello last Christmas when she dropped off some papers at his house. The kid looked like him. Same olive skin, dimples, light brown, wavy hair. Those intense caramel-colored eyes. If he had a kid, why not tell me? We dated for over two years.”
“Have you ever asked him?”
“No. Avery told me in confidence. She could lose her job or worse, be disbarred for telling me. She risked everything because of our friendship, so I can’t risk her livelihood.” Rachel took another drink, but it wasn’t helping her upset stomach. “It’s better if I just let him go live his big famous life.”
“There might be a logical explanation for those payments. You could just straight out ask him if he has any other kids. It’s not a far-fetched question for a handsome actor who’s dated a million women.”
“Most of those women were just for show on premier nights. I was the only one he’d ever had more than two dates with.” She scooted to the edge of the couch. Her hands shook in anticipation of his acceptance speech, so she folded them. “Did you see him on the red carpet earlier? Was he with some hot blonde?” That was the type he used for premiers.
Her sister nodded. “I wasn’t going to mention it. Because I think she’s, like, twenty-two.”
That shot a dagger to her thirty-four-year-old heart. “I don’t care. We’ve both moved on. He can date whoever he likes. And so can I.”
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that.” Lori’s face lit with a slow grin. “How about you let me set you up? Shelby and I have had a slew of scorching-hot guys apply recently. She said she had one in mind for you. He’s a widower with a cute kid.”
“I’ll think about it.” Their sister-in-law and Lori’s matchmaker business had become one of the most popular in Denver. It tempted Rachel. She hadn’t been with anyone since Marcello. “Maybe you should find me a guy who doesn’t want to settle down, though. A widower with a kid sounds too serious.”
A frown line creased her sister’s forehead. “So, you’re just going to date for fun? What happens when Mr. Fun finds out about Hannah and Ian sleeping in the other room?”
“Oh. Right.” She hadn’t thought that far ahead, dammit. She wasn’t interested in dating. She needed more time. “Never mind. Electronic love will just have to suffice for a bit longer.”
Lori laughed, but then grabbed Rachel’s arm. “Ooh. Here it comes. This is it.”
The screen suddenly filled with a smiling, very-tan-for-the-middle-of-winter Marcello. Butterflies performed dive-bombing sorties in her gut as she leaned closer to hear. The newscaster’s deep voice said, “Seems Marcello Romano has a secret. He might finally be off the market, ladies.”
Marcello accepted the gold statue from a pretty actress and then laid a kiss on the top of its head.
Rachel’s fingers flew to her lips. They tingled with the memory of how his mouth had felt on hers when he’d last kissed her.
He stepped up to the mic, opened his mouth to speak, but stopped and frowned at the statue in his hands. Then he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he’d won it, or maybe he felt he didn’t deserve it.
Marcello finally began in his practiced English. “I used to think winning one of these would make me complete. Feel accepted. Now I know a statue can’t give you that. Only those you love can. And all you can hope is that they love you back. Even if you’ve made a mistake and hurt them. So, while I could not be more grateful to the Academy for this award, I can’t wait to share it with the ones I love most.” Marcello’s voice had grown husky, making him pause.
Rachel closed her eyes. She couldn’t watch.
Marcello cleared his throat and continued. “Rachel, Hannah, and Ian. Thank you and good night.”
Tears she couldn’t contain formed in her eyes. The emotion in his voice hadn’t been an act. He’d told her he loved her, but he just couldn’t be a full-time partner. He used the “L” word soon after they’d started dating, and he used it often, so she never thought he’d been serious. Especially after the way he’d reacted when she’d told him she’d accidentally become pregnant. Why do a one-eighty and declare it on national television, risking their children’s happiness?
She had to fix what Marcello had done before it was too late. But how?
Amidst thunderous clapping, Marcello made his way backstage while tapping out a text to his agent, Lance.
Finally, he’d won, after so many years, so many grueling shoots, so many lonely nights in hotel rooms while on location. So why did he still feel so empty inside?
Because he was tired of only having weekly videos of his children to look forward to, that’s why, along with the phone calls every few days with Rachel telling him about their lives. It wasn’t enough.
He could change. Find a way to work them into his schedule despite what Lance said about staying relevant. To spend time as a family. And he’d figure out a way to shield his children from the ever-present paparazzi. It had been all Rachel had asked of him. Nothing unreasonable enough to excuse his leaving her and his children behind while he worked. It was his own fears that had made him leave.
Time to face them head-on.
“Marcello! Congrats!” called out some of the other winners. He nodded to them as they guzzled champagne with the fragrances of expensive perfume and weed hanging in the air. He wanted nothing to do with any of that. He needed to find a quiet corner, because he had just started a war by naming his children. The one thing Rachel had asked him not to do if he wasn’t willing to be a full-time part of their lives.
While they both loved to tease and poke at each other in fun, Rachel had been a tough opponent on the rare occasions they’d truly disagreed. When they’d first met in one of his lawyer’s offices, she couldn’t have cared less who he was. She’d stood tall, green-eyed, with dark silky hair, staring back at him with all the confidence in the world. He’d instantly wanted to know more. And hadn’t stopped yet.
“What the hell was that, Marcello?” his publicist, Stella, asked. Her fiery red hair was as bright as the anger blooming on her cheeks. “Who are those people you mentioned? The press is already asking.”
“It’s no one’s business but mine.” His phone vibrated in his pocket. No doubt it was Rachel, ready to rip his head off. He looked forward to the fight.
Stella crossed her arms. “Why did you just tell Lance to cancel all your appearances next week? Everyone will want to book you after this win. Are you crazy?”
“You forgot to say congratulations. And I’ll buy you a new Birkin purse if you’ll give me a pass on this one.” He kissed Stella on the cheek. “But now, I have to take this call.” He dug the phone from his pocket, confirmed it was Rachel, and headed for the exit. He wasn’t going straight to New York as planned. He’d fly to Denver instead, to celebrate with the only ones who mattered to him. He needed to stop pretending he didn’t miss his family and do something about it.
Sucking in a deep breath to prepare for the lashing he deserved, he answered, “Ciao, bella.”
“Don’t you dare ciao, bella me, Marcello. What were you thinking?” Rachel was in pissed-off-woman mode, not calm, fierce lawyer mode, which was good for him. He had a hard time winning against the lawyer. But he regretted the anger in her voice.
“Mi amore, per favore—”
“Stop! I’m too angry to fight with you in Italian. Flirting is one thing, but not fighting. You talk too fast.” Rachel huffed out a breath. “I’m getting better, though. I’ve been taking advanced lessons online so I can teach the kids.”
That she’d kept her promise to raise them bilingual might mean she didn’t hate him. Maybe he still had a chance to win her back. “There are too many people here, bella. Discretion is necessario.”
There was a long pause, which with Rachel was never a good thing. It meant she was taking inventory of her arsenal of words. She’d be ten times more dangerous when she spoke next. Just as when a hurricane went back to sea to gather more steam, they both could be lethal upon return.
The calm lawyer said, “Congratulations, by the way. I’m proud of you.”
A lump formed in his throat. He wanted no one’s praise more than hers. She didn’t hand it out lightly. “Thank you, Rachel. That—”
“Back to the problem at hand. You need to ask Stella what to do. You’ve said she can fix anything. Maybe you suddenly own three dogs named Rachel, Hannah, and Ian. It’d be endearing to your fans.”
“So, you’d have me replace my family with dogs?” When she sputtered in frustration, he smiled. “I almost bought a dog after you parted ways with me. I was going to name him Buddy, because that’s what you call me when you’re mad at me. I kind of like it.”
“You made the choice to leave. Not me. Put Stella on this mess you just made so she can contain it before it blows up in all our faces.”
He neared the journalists lined up at the exit. He’d have no choice but to stop to have his picture taken with his new statue. They all wanted to know who he referred to in his speech. “Putting you in my pocket for just one moment, amore.”
“Don’t you dare, Marcello. I hate when you do—”
As he posed for the cameras, his smile was genuine for a change. Rachel spewed every curse word in the book at him through his breast pocket. God, he missed her. He loved acting and the money it brought so he could support the ones he loved, but there was a hole in his life that only she seemed able to fill. He’d been a fool to run away.
While the paparazzi shot their pictures and shouted questions, he lifted a hand to make it all stop. “Thank you. No comment.” Then he headed for his waiting car before his agent, who was calling his name behind him, caught up.
“Marcello, wait!” Lance laid a hand on Marcello’s shoulder.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t moved quickly enough. Turning, he said, “Can we talk about this later? I’m late.”
Lance folded Armani-clad arms. The man’s teeth were so white and hair so fake blond, it made Marcello wish for sunglasses.
Lance barked, “You can’t blow off the press after winning an Oscar. It’s career suicide.”
He withheld a sigh. “Always so dramatic. I like to think of it as being mysterious. Creating curiosity the press will seek answers for.”
Lance’s manicured eyebrows formed an angry V. “So those people you named aren’t real? There isn’t a woman involved who I can guarantee will be a major distraction? You have to strike while the iron is hot in this business, or find yourself doing television commercials to pay the bills. I thought we agreed the next five years are all about making you a mega star. The Oscar win was step one.”
He opened the door to his awaiting car. “So, I accomplished step one. And you’ll get the Jag I promised you if I ever won an Oscar. So be happy with that, and I’ll call you later.”
Lance lifted a finger. “But—”
“Stop. Go inside and party for both of us. As you always do. Good night.”
To at least pretend it wasn’t Rachel who owned his very soul, he kept her in his pocket a few more moments while he slid in the back of his waiting limo. “Hi, Dave. How are you tonight?”
“Just chillin’.” His blond beach-bum driver who used to be a stockbroker beamed a big smile in the rearview mirror. “Congrats, bro. That was awesome. I’ll have you on the tarmac in thirty.”
“Thank you.” He took his phone from his pocket and laid it against his ear. “Sorry. Where were we?”
Silence greeted him. She’d hung up. Served him right. But he wasn’t going to call her back only to have her tell him not to bother showing up at her house. It’d drive her crazy soon enough that he hadn’t called her right back anyway.
He turned his wrist and checked the time on the sleek new watch his stylist had given him to wear for the show. Was he supposed to give it back? He’d have one of his assistants figure it out. It was a nice one.
At the next red light, he took off the watch. Then he leaned over the front seat and handed it to Dave. “I know you rarely wear anything but beach attire, but I’d like you to have this. For always being here when I needed you these past five years.”
Dave’s brows popped up. “Dude. That thing is worth more than my motorcycle. But I can’t take it. Ally will kill me.” He held out a fist. “Appreciate you too, man.”
He fist-bumped his driver and then sank into the back seat again. He’d have to have a talk with his money manager, Ally. She was always on him for giving people gifts, but he enjoyed sharing with those who’d helped him achieve the success he’d gained.
After exactly five minutes had passed, his phone vibrated. Rachel wasn’t a woman to be kept waiting, and he’d kept her waiting often because of his job. He needed to work on that too if he wanted to win her back.
He let it ring one more time before he answered, “Deepest apologies, amore. Now, which part exactly—when I declared to the world that you are the love of my life—made you angry?”
Rachel sighed. “You know this isn’t about me. It’s about the kids. I’m so . . . disappointed in you, Marcello.”
A stab of regret pierced his heart. He hated to disappoint her. “I hadn’t meant to say those things. It was the emotion of winning. Finally. You know how much it meant to me. My heart spoke before my mouth could swallow the words. But they were all true. I want my family back, Rachel. All of you. I promise I’ll make the time and put you all first, if you’ll give me another chance.”
“Nothing’s changed since we decided to part ways, Marcello.” The sadness in her voice hurt his heart.
I changed. Now to prove it.
“You were right. I did put my career first. But after tonight, all will be different.” He’d have to fight Lance about that, but he’d figure it out.
“Have you forgotten what it’d been like for us? Desperately trying to find even a few hours to be together? The way I was shoved out of the way for people to get their piece of you? The rumors and innuendo about your dating habits? You hate it. How could you want that for our kids?”
All true. But those things they could improve on. What was really holding her back? “That was because we tried so hard to keep our relationship secret. Make everyone think you were just one of the many who worked for me. Let’s start again. Let me date you properly so you can fall in love with me this time. I’ll take you to restaurants and the movies. No more sneaking around. I want to, how you say? Crown you in front of the whole world. No one would ever shove you out of the way after that.”
“You mean court me, not crown me.”
Rachel went quiet again, and it made his heart ache.
Please don’t reject me.
English sometimes. He’d forced himself to think in English since he’d moved to America as a teenager, but some words still didn’t stick. Maybe he’d say it in Italian so she was sure to understand his meaning. She always looked words up in her phone when she wasn’t sure. “Cascamorto, sì?”
She tapped buttons and then said, “Wait a minute. That means to make a fool of yourself running after me. That’s not the same as courting at all.”
He’d picked the wrong word. Again. “You are the only woman I’d make a fool of myself for. Please, can’t we start again? I made a huge mistake by leaving. But no sleeping together at first, just dating. Getting to know each other better over dinners and bottles of wine. I think you will love me if only you’d give me a chance to show you how normal our life can be.”
“Do you promise to call Stella and have her fix this?”
He hated to think of his loved ones as pets as she’d suggested, but if that was what it’d take . . . “Sì. I’ll send her a text right now. I look forward to you finally meeting Stella and Lance. You’ll love them as much as I do. And I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening at seven for dinner. Ciao, bella.”
“Maybe I already have a d—”
He hung up before she could argue with him. She’d told him the other day she hadn’t dated anyone since the babies were born. Thankfully, after parting ways romantically, she hadn’t cut him off from the kids. She’d given him full access whenever he could find the time, and she always took his calls. Most women wouldn’t have done that. But Rachel, she was a class act.
Maybe his misspoken words at the award show had been fated. Maybe by showing her that he’d been willing to tell the world how much in love with her he was, he’d finally get what he’d always wanted. A chance to overcome his past and prove he wasn’t like his cruel father. Because any other outcome just made his father the winner. Well, no more.
Marcello Romano’s wife and kids would never have to live in fear. As long as those deep, dark family secrets stayed buried where they belonged, he’d finally have the life he deserved.