The Italian's Doorstep Surprise Read online

  “It’s too late,” she panted. “They said it’s too late.” She gasped another breath. “I can handle it—”

  And suddenly she knew she could. After all the hard things she’d done in her life, she now knew she was tough and brave enough to handle anything. It was love that made her strong. Love for her baby. Love for her grandfather.

  Love for herself.

  But she couldn’t stop wishing if only Nico could have been part of their lives! If only he’d been able to open his heart!

  She would go on without him, living in her old bedroom of her grandfather and Phyllis’s apartment, until she graduated from college and could afford one of her own. But it wasn’t the life she’d wanted.

  If Nico had given her the chance, she would have tried to mend his heart. In a strange way, loving him had helped her mend her own. She would have given anything—

  She gasped as her body shook with pain. Her hand tightened on her grandfather’s, making him flinch. But she couldn’t loosen her grip as the agony built, worse than anything she’d ever known, overwhelming her until she cried out.

  “Doctor!” her grandfather shouted. “Nurse!” Pulling away, he rushed to the door in a panic. “Please, someone, my granddaughter needs help—”

  And suddenly, in the corner of her hazy vision, she saw a large, dark figure push into the room. Not a doctor. Not a nurse.

  “Cara.”

  Honora looked up with a gasp.

  Was she hallucinating?

  Like a miracle, she saw her husband. He rushed to her bedside, and she saw that his clothes were wrinkled, his jaw unshaven, and he had deep hollows beneath his eyes. But as he leaned forward to take her hand, his dark eyes glowed.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. Oh, my darling,” he whispered, kissing her sweaty temple. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What are you doing here?” she choked out. “I told you we’re through—”

  But even as she spoke the words, she gripped his hand desperately.

  “I’m here now.” Nico glanced back at her grandfather. “I’m here for her.”

  Clearly relieved, Granddad nodded, then hurried to join Phyllis in the waiting room.

  “You don’t know what you’re—” Honora began, but then couldn’t speak anymore against the flood of pain.

  Her husband didn’t flinch, no matter how hard her grip became. He didn’t look away. He looked straight into her eyes, letting her crush his finger bones without giving the slightest evidence it hurt him. He seemed unbreakable, and as she closed her eyes, lost in pain, she could dimly hear his low voice, telling her how powerful she was, that he was in awe of her strength, that she was an amazing woman, an incredible mother. That he loved her.

  As the pain slowly ebbed, letting her breathe normally again, Honora looked at him.

  “What did you just say?”

  He smiled, and his dark eyes looked emotional, even tender. “Hello, cara.”

  Honora felt a different sharp pain, this time in her heart. Had he followed her all the way to New York City just to tempt her, to torment her with what she could not have? It had nearly killed her to leave him in Italy, even knowing it was the right thing to do. She would no longer settle for second best. She could not give her life to a man who was incapable of loving her.

  So had she imagined his words?

  “What—what are you doing here?”

  “I finally figured out what present to give you. The only gift you’d ever care about.”

  He still thought he could buy her? Her rising hope crashed to the floor. “I don’t care about presents.”

  “I never liked them either. Until now. Because I’ve found something I really, really want to give you.” Holding her hand, he came in close.

  “My heart,” he whispered. “For you and the baby. I want to give you my heart.” His eyes had a suspicious gleam as he tried to smile. “The truth is, I already have.”

  She looked at him in amazement. “You’re saying—?”

  “I love you, Honora.”

  She stared at him, stricken, afraid to believe. Then she felt the pain rise again, even worse than before. Again, he held her hand, helping her through it, telling her over and over again how proud he was of her, how he couldn’t wait to hold their baby, how much he loved her.

  When she could finally breathe again, she said, “Why are you saying this? Just because you don’t want to lose me? You said you could never love anyone.”

  “It was myself I didn’t love all these years. You were right. But I’ve learned the truth now. I spoke with Egidia at her villa—”

  “You did?” she gasped.

  “And she helped me realize that their rejection was never about me at all. It’s what you said. Everyone has secret bruises and broken hearts that they try to hide.” He paused. “You should know Egidia’s in the hospital, too. But don’t worry, she’s going to be all right. She broke her leg on some steps at her house, but I helped her get an ambulance—”

  “You helped her?” The world seemed to be spinning. She felt another pain coming. Already. Too soon.

  She squeezed his hand, closing her eyes as she endured the agony, surrendering to it. He held her hand quietly, calm and tender and strong. When the pain finally abated, she exhaled.

  “All these years I was so wrong, about everything,” Nico said. “I thought being hard and cold and numb was the only way to protect myself.” Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the knuckles as he whispered, “Then I met you.”

  She felt another rise in pain. Contractions were coming quicker together now, and harder. “Nico—”

  “You’ve changed my life in every way possible. You’ve changed me, heart and soul.” He looked down at her, his handsome face glowing with intensity. “And I swear that whatever it takes, even if takes the rest of my life, I will find a way to win back your love.”

  She looked up at him, and then her lips parted in shock. “You’re crying.”

  “Yes.” He gave a ragged breath, tried to smile as he ran a hand over his eyes. “I feel everything. And what I feel most of all is how much I love you. How much I need you,” he whispered. “Please, Honora. Tell me I have a chance to win you back. To be the man you need me to be.”

  He loved her. He actually loved her. The realization was the sweetest feeling Honora had ever known, even as she gasped with agonizing pain. “I feel like I’m dreaming. I can’t believe you’re even here.”

  He didn’t flinch as she gripped his hand tight enough to break a bone. “Your grandfather told me to come.”

  “Behind my back!”

  “He said I’m family. Is it true, Honora?” He looked down at her. “Am I your family?”

  She looked at him.

  “Now and forever. I love you, Nico.”

  Joy filled his dark eyes as he bent and kissed her forehead, her cheeks. “Cara...”

  Then the pain took over, and her doctor was suddenly there, and nurses, and her doctor was telling her to push, and the pain was so blinding that Honora thought she might die.

  Then, suddenly, the pain was over, and forgotten, as a sweet little baby girl was placed in her arms, and her husband wrapped his powerful arms around them both, and all of them were crying.

  Many hours later, as Honora held her new daughter, she looked over at Nico. He’d fallen asleep in the hard plastic chair. He had dark circles under his eyes, and scruff over his jawline, and his clothes were wrinkled, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. And he’d never been more handsome.

  As if he felt her gaze, Nico looked up, then smiled. And the love she saw in his dark eyes filled her heart.

  As she held her baby, the dawning sun came in through the window, covering them both with a soft golden glow, and Honora knew that their happiness would always last. They both deserved to be loved. And they’d finally come hom
e to the circle of each other’s arms.

  * * *

  The summer sun was bright and hot in the cloudless August sky, as the wild Atlantic waves splashed against the white sand.

  Sitting on the grass outside their Hamptons mansion, in the same exact spot where they’d been wed the previous year, Nico looked at the people around him, feeling gratitude and quiet joy.

  His wife was snuggled beside him on one of the soft blankets covering the grass, wearing a short, pretty sundress that showed off her slender curves, and a wide-brimmed sun hat. She’d thought of wearing jewelry—nothing fancy, just the golden heart necklace he’d given her for her birthday—but quickly thought better of it the first time baby Kara’s hand had wrapped around it and pulled.

  No matter. Honora didn’t need jewels to make her sparkle brighter than the sun. Nico was dazzled every time he looked at her, as her green eyes glowed and danced while she laughed, her full lips a festive red to match the balloons and streamers.

  Their baby sat nearby, wearing a little jumpsuit that revealed the adorable fat rolls at her thighs. She had her mother’s green eyes and dark hair. They’d named her Kara, because she was beloved.

  Their butler, Sebastian, smiling from ear to ear, had just served sandwiches—tiny ones with the crusts cut off, and fancy cookies with jam, and tea with milk, although their daughter was drinking hers in a sippy cup.

  “A tea party?” Nico had asked his wife with amusement. “For a baby’s birthday party?”

  “Kara likes tea,” Honora answered primly, then grinned. “Especially tea with milk.”

  Now, Nico slowly looked around him at the people who’d somehow become his family.

  Honora’s grandfather, Patrick, was telling some drawn-out story about the proper raising of lemons, to Egidia, of all people, who’d raised more lemons in Italy than the retired gardener ever had.

  His stepmother’s leg had completely healed. She no longer had to worry about rickety flights of stairs, as he’d bought her a luxurious single-floor apartment in Rome to live in while her longtime home, the Villa Caracciola, was remodeled and furnished with an elevator. She’d happily accepted Nico’s offer to come visit the Hamptons for her granddaughter’s birthday. The baby’s great-grandmother, Phyllis, was giving Egidia a sympathetic smile, and offering her a cup of Italian espresso and sugar cookies.

  His wife’s best friend, Emmie Swenson, had arrived in a fluster a few hours before. The two women had laughed and talked together as they’d put up the decorations for the family party, all in red which was Kara’s favorite color. Nothing made Honora happier than taking care of people.

  Her patience might soon be tested, though, since any minute now, Nico’s friend Theo Katrakis was expected for dinner. Which Nico honestly didn’t understand.

  “Why would Theo ever agree to come to a baby’s birthday party?”

  Smiling at their baby, his wife had crooned, “Because he loves Kara. And she loves her uncle Theo, doesn’t she?”

  Honora often fretted that his friend didn’t have any family to look after him. Nico wasn’t worried, but his wife seemed to care about the whole world. It left him in awe. He loved his family, but he couldn’t imagine having the capacity to worry about absolutely everyone, not like his wife did.

  She’d even been happy to read online that Lana Lee was dating rising star Benny Rossini. “I hope they’ll be happy.” She’d smiled. “They deserve it.”

  That was what Nico had learned from her. Everyone deserved love. And he knew he’d spend the rest of his life protecting and caring for her—the heart and soul of their family, and beyond.

  And so, an hour before, their family had gathered on the grassy bluff overlooking the sand to celebrate their baby’s first birthday. The balloons and streamers were hung high in the trees, where Kara couldn’t reach them. Nearby, there was a small pile of presents that they’d just helped their daughter unwrap. None of the gifts were expensive. Beach toys, like a bucket and shovel. A truck. A teddy bear. As Honora had taught him, it was about love, not money.

  Good thing too, since Kara seemed mostly interested in playing with the discarded wrapping paper.

  They were planning to go down to the beach in a bit and make sandcastles, assuming the star of the party didn’t try to eat any of the sand. And later tonight, after dinner, when the sun fell softly into the sea, they’d gather around a bonfire on the beach, roast marshmallows and sing songs before Nico carried their sleepy baby against his shoulder, back to the house, to tuck her into her crib.

  And then, Nico knew the rest of his family would finally disappear to their rooms, and he could be alone with his wife. He would hold her in his arms, setting fire to the night, as outside their bedroom’s open window the summer stars would sweep across the wide sky and the surf would roar against the shore.

  He hoped they’d have more children. Five. Six. As many as she wanted—as many as they could handle. What the hell else was money for? He’d just buy a bigger house. A bigger jet. And be ready for a bigger heart.

  “What are you thinking?” Sitting beside him on the blanket, Honora looked up at him suspiciously.

  Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, “I want to unwrap you.”

  He had the satisfaction of seeing his wife blush, feeling her body shiver. Oh, yes. Six children. Tonight would be just the start of the joy that would last all their lives.

  Nico remembered how numb and broken he’d felt in this empty house last summer, and all the gray months before. Then Honora had burst through the door and given him a new dream. A new life.

  Now, as Kara toddled nearby and the grandparents laughed at some joke Patrick had just made, Honora suddenly leaned forward and whispered something in his ear.

  With an intake of breath, Nico looked back at her, wide-eyed. “Are you sure?”

  His wife nodded shyly, glowing with visible happiness. “In February.” As he started to gasp and turn towards the others, she whispered, “Don’t tell. Let’s just keep it between us for now. Our little secret.”

  His glance dropped briefly to her belly, and he nodded, almost dizzy with happiness.

  After years of making big real estate deals, he’d finally found the place that was the hardest to create, and the most precious to hold: a real home. In giving away his heart, he’d gotten back more love than he’d ever thought possible. Love was infinite, he thought, looking out at the wide blue ocean. It never ended.

  Nico could hardly remember a time before he loved her. It seemed to him now that he’d loved Honora even before he knew her. They’d been brought together by fate, as she’d once said. And that was the greatest secret of all. The two of them were meant to be.

  * * *

  Swept away by The Italian’s Doorstep Surprise? Why not explore these other stories by Jennie Lucas?

  Chosen as the Sheikh’s Royal Bride

  Christmas Baby for the Greek

  Her Boss’s One-Night Baby

  Claiming the Virgin’s Baby

  Penniless and Secretly Pregnant

  Available now!

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  From One Night to Desert Queen

  by Pippa Roscoe

  PROLOGUE

  ‘I’M NOT SURE that I should go.’

  ‘We don’t really have much choice.’

  ‘I don’t want to leave you with Star and the rest of it...’

  Star Soames’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She knew that her sisters would be absolutely mortified i
f they knew she was listening, but hated the way she had been lumped in with ‘the rest of it’. As if she were a duty, a burden, just like the one the grandfather they’d never met—thankfully, as far as Star was concerned—had placed on them.

  Star willed back the tears clouding her vision as she tried to concentrate on what Skye, the eldest, was saying.

  ‘It should only be a couple of days. Fly to Costa Rica, get the map from Benoit Chalendar, come home. Simple as that.’

  ‘Except he’s not likely to have the map on him, Skye,’ came the gently worded reply from Summer, their youngest sister and the peacekeeper of the family.

  ‘Okay, so add in a day to return via France and I’ll be back before you know it.’

  Star ran her thumb down the length of the thick gold chain of the necklace that they had found only yesterday, along with their great-great-great-grandmother’s journals, in a hidden recess tucked behind a section of shelves that swung open at the flick of a notch in Catherine’s library. Star preferred that name to the other names the smaller library had come to be known by, like the women’s library or the little library, and she wasn’t surprised that none of the male Soames heirs had ever thought to look there.

  If anyone had ever suspected Catherine of spiriting away the family diamonds from her evil husband Anthony, it had never been more than a suspicion as generation after generation went half mad trying to solve the mystery of the missing jewels that must be worth a small fortune. It was as if every single subsequent Soames had let the sprawling Norfolk Estate run to ruin in order to chase a myth, including Elias Soames, the man who had rejected and disowned their mother before she’d even left her teens. Star shivered in memory of the image of his portrait hanging in the estate office, where she and her sisters had first heard the terms of his will. As the lawyer had read the fiendish requirements of the inheritance, Elias Soames had stared down at them like a Dickensian villain, for all that the painting could only have been made twenty years before.