The Italian's Doorstep Surprise Page 8

  Honora’s heart was pounding as she looked up at him.

  Nico was so handsome, so broad-shouldered and powerful, standing in the rooftop garden in the moonlight. It seemed like a scene out of a movie, in which he’d start suddenly waltzing with her beneath the sea of lights sparkling in the velvety black sky with the glass and steel skyscrapers all around them.

  Whatever your dreams are, let me try to make them come true.

  But her greatest dream had always been to be loved.

  “I don’t want to feel like a burden. Never again...”

  “A burden?” He looked incredulous. “Are you insane? Don’t you understand how much I want you?”

  “Because of the baby...”

  “You’re right. What do I know about children? I need you to teach me how to be the parent I want to be. But it’s more than that. I like you, Honora. I respect you. I want you as my partner. My friend. I want you at my side.” He whispered, “I want you in my bed.”

  She wanted all those things, too. But if it meant she’d never be loved, would the exchange be worth it?

  Was it possible that Nico was right? That the dream Honora had hungered for all her life—love—was at best a passing emotion and at worst a manipulation?

  Maybe there were more important things. Like kindness. Trust. Family. Loyalty. Friendship. Passion.

  Her gaze fell to his lips, and she yearned for his touch. She knew he wanted her, too.

  But she also knew he would keep his promise.

  All around them on the terrace, skyscrapers stretched up into the night, their windows sparkling bigger and brighter than the stars.

  She trusted him, Honora suddenly realized. She believed he would keep his word. That one simple fact changed everything.

  He wouldn’t touch her.

  But there was nothing to stop her from touching him...

  With an intake of breath, Honora threw her arms around him and lifted her lips passionately to his.

  He froze in surprise, then as her mouth claimed his, he wrapped his powerful arms around her and kissed her back hungrily.

  “Thank heaven,” he whispered against her skin when they finally pulled apart. “Not being able to touch you was killing me.”

  “We can’t have that.” She looked up at him. “If you can commit to a lifetime,” she said in a small voice, “if you’re sure, I’ll marry you, Nico.”

  His dark eyes lit up. “You won’t regret it,” he said huskily. “I’ll make you happy. You and the child both. I swear it.”

  Honora prayed he was right and tried not to hear the desperate howl of her heart. She didn’t need him to love her, she told herself. Just giving their baby a loving, secure home, being friends, being lovers, would be enough. It would.

  And now, it would have to be.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WINNING WAS TORTURE.

  Being kissed by Honora was paradise. Nico gloried in the feel of her petite, lush body in his arms. Her baby bump and full breasts pushed against his flat belly. Her lips were soft and warm, and as they parted for his, a small sigh came from the back of her throat.

  Standing on the penthouse terrace in the cooling summer night, after she’d agreed to marry him, he’d felt the wind blow against his skin like the promise of a new life. For a moment he’d felt dizzy as he held her tight. He’d wanted that moment to last forever.

  And he’d also wanted it to end immediately, by lifting her in his arms and carrying her inside, to his bed.

  But no. Honora wanted to wait for their wedding night. So the next two weeks—filled with agonizingly delicious kisses, but no sex—were agony for Nico.

  “I want it to be special,” she said quietly. “This time, I want it to feel real.”

  He then tried to persuade Honora to wed immediately, elope to Las Vegas on his private jet. But she’d held firm, wanting to wait and have a real wedding after her grandfather returned from his honeymoon.

  “All right.” Nico had sighed, giving in with all the grace he could muster. “I did promise to fulfill all your dreams. You should have the wedding you want.”

  She’d looked startled. “It’s not for me. Weddings are for family and friends. For our baby. For the community.”

  Which was so opposite to Nico’s usual way of thinking that he hadn’t even known how to argue. To his own mind, all he wanted to do was marry her and start the honeymoon today. She was living in the guest room of his penthouse. So close! But so far away!

  They kissed, of course. Constantly. He would grab her in the hallway, at breakfast, at dinner, and lean her against the wall, against the sofa, holding her tight and ravishing her with kisses until they both went weak in the embrace. He felt like an unsatisfied teenage virgin, voracious in his hunger and need.

  Two weeks seemed like torture. He felt like he’d never waited for anything so long.

  But apparently two weeks was lightning fast for wedding planning. When Honora had suggested that they simply order a cake, hire some friends of hers who were musicians and buy a bouquet ready-made from Phyllis’s shop, he’d wanted to make the ceremony more special for her, so he’d convinced her to hire a wedding planner.

  “That would leave me more time to decorate the nursery,” she’d said, stroking her cheek thoughtfully. “Although it seems like a silly thing to hire out.”

  “I just want to make your life easier.”

  “Fine,” she’d said with a sigh. He’d had the feeling she was indulging him, but he wanted to take care of her. When he’d found her pulling weeds in the rooftop garden, he’d quickly arranged for Sergio to hire new gardeners, a talented middle-aged couple who worked as a team. Honora had liked them immediately, but she couldn’t resist pointing out smugly, “See? It took two people to replace Granddad!”

  Even with a wedding planner, she was very busy, bustling around to help the man select flowers, food, colors. She and Nico spent one obligatory afternoon with his lawyers, signing the prenup that his phalanx of attorneys had insisted was necessary. Honora rolled her eyes at the mention of settlements, seeming not to care. But in this, as in everything, he made sure his terms were generous. The longer they were married, the more alimony she would receive if they ever divorced.

  But Nico didn’t like to even think of her leaving. He knew their marriage would last.

  He loved seeing her joy as she decorated their baby’s nursery in soft pink and cream, filling it with books and a crib, buying tiny little clothes that seemed doll-sized to his eyes. Nico, for his part, contributed a six-foot-tall white teddy bear selected by Giles, his assistant at the New York office. Gifts weren’t Nico’s thing. Anyway, at the moment he was so distracted by lust that he could barely even pretend to work, or care about the land his company was trying to procure in Dubai. It felt like their wedding day would never come.

  Then, suddenly, it did.

  They’d decided on a beachside wedding at his home in the Hamptons. The weather dawned clear and bright, the previous day’s mugginess swept away by the fresh Atlantic breeze.

  Around them, tufts of long grass laced gently rolling sand dunes. The chairs faced a wedding arch laced with white and pink flowers, on the edge of the grassy bluff overlooking the blue ocean.

  The guest list was small, only about a hundred people, as Honora had wanted only close friends and family. “Just people we truly love, who love us, people we want to support our marriage.” Honora, of course, had many such people. Nico had struggled to come up with anyone who fit that description. So much of his life before now had been about climbing the ladder, about becoming rich and powerful, all to try to punish and impress someone who was now dead.

  Did he really care about any of the people he called friends? Or was he just using them—as they used him?

  But that had reminded him of one person he felt a little guilty about. He gave her name to the wedd
ing planner, wondering if Lana Lee would even show, and half hoping she wouldn’t, so he could tell himself he’d done what he could and forget about it.

  Other than his ex-fiancée, he only managed to think of one true friend, who was more than a business rival or colleague. Theo Katrakis was a fellow self-made billionaire, an outsider like Nico—and a notorious womanizer who had similarly reached the age of thirty-six without a wife. But they’d watched a few football games together, done some race car driving on a lark, and once had actually had a personal conversation in which they’d discovered they’d both been educated in hard luck streets—Nico in Rome, Theo in Athens.

  But now, Nico was wondering about the rightness of choosing him as his best man.

  “No sight of the bride yet,” Theo said in a low voice. The two men, dressed in sleek tuxedos, stood beneath the vivid pink roses in the wedding arch, watching as the guests arrived for the late-morning beachside ceremony. “You can still make a run for it.”

  Nico looked at his friend and was amazed to see he was serious. The Greek really thought Nico might desert Honora at the altar, in front of all her friends, after he’d given his promise to marry her. “You’re my best man, Theo,” he bit out. “You’re supposed to be supportive.”

  “I am being supportive,” he said cheerfully. “Run while you can.”

  Nico scowled. “You suck at being a best man.”

  “You suck at being a groom, since you wouldn’t even let me throw you a bachelor party, which is really the whole point.”

  Nico was irritated. “Hey, anytime you want to leave...”

  “Before I see if the maid of honor is worth seducing? Not on your life.”

  Baring his teeth in a smile for the benefit of the arriving guests, he said, “Maybe you just shouldn’t talk.”

  “Nico,” a woman’s voice said behind him.

  Whirling around, Nico saw Lana Lee coming across the grass from the house.

  “Lana,” he said in a low voice. He took a deep breath as he looked at his former fiancée. “I didn’t think you would come.”

  “Didn’t you want me to?” She looked elegant as always, with her glossy black hair tied back in a long ponytail, wearing a chic dark dress that draped perfectly over her model-thin body. Her sunglasses were movie-star-big, and no wonder. She was one of the most famous actresses in the world, specializing in blockbuster action films. “I was close by, shooting a film in New York.”

  “It’s good to see you.”

  “Let’s cut the crap.” She tilted her head. “Why did you invite me?”

  Yes, why? “I thought that things ended...badly between us.”

  “So you thought inviting me to your quickie wedding to some new girlfriend would make it better?” She took off her sunglasses. Her lovely face was blank. “My therapist said I’d get closure by seeing you. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

  “Closure?”

  “You used me,” she said. “You made me think you loved me, proposed marriage, then dumped me without any reason.” She gave a humorless smile. “I’m curious to see if you’ll do the same thing to your new fiancée. Is it true what I heard? You knocked up your maid?”

  “Honora was never my maid.” Nico set his jaw. He was starting to feel seriously annoyed. Why had he ever thought it was a good idea to invite his ex to his wedding? Maybe Theo was right when he’d said weddings were an unnecessary evil. He took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you I was sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

  Lana stared at him then said, “You never thought of me at all. If I were a good person, I’d warn your bride about how selfish you are.”

  He set his jaw. “Oh, come on, Lana. Don’t try to pretend we were some great love affair. I wasn’t using you. We were using each other. You enjoyed the lifestyle, the extra attention right before awards season. Don’t make it out to be something it wasn’t. I only hurt your pride, not your heart.”

  She glared at him, clearly not listening. “How pregnant is she?”

  “Seven months.”

  “Seven! You must have gotten her pregnant just days after you dumped me.”

  He forced himself to be honest. “Hours.”

  She looked at him with loathing. “Heaven help this girl if she ever loves you.”

  “She won’t. She’s too smart.”

  His ex-fiancée gave a low laugh. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. In that case, I hope you fall in love with her, Nico. Wildly and desperately.” She spoke the words as a curse. Lana’s dark eyes glittered. “And I hope you’ll suffer for the rest of your life when she never, ever loves you back.”

  * * *

  “I’m so happy for you, Honora.” Her maid of honor’s voice was strangely wooden as she spoke the words.

  Honora turned from the three-way mirror, where she stood in her simple strapless wedding dress in cream silk, which went to midcalf, and pretty sandals on her feet. Her toenail polish matched the bright pink roses in her long dark hair. A twenty-carat diamond—Nico had picked it out—was on her left hand.

  She was standing with Emmie in a sunlit room inside Nico’s Hamptons mansion. It was strange to Honora now, remembering how just a few weeks before she had rushed here on a stormy summer night, desperate to keep either Nico or her grandfather from being shot by his hunting rifle.

  And now, Granddad had just returned from his honeymoon cruise with Phyllis yesterday, deliriously happy, and she herself was Nico’s bride. She never could have imagined any of it.

  With her grandfather so focused on his new wife, Honora had been glad that her best childhood friend, Emmie Swenson, had been able to take the weekend off to be here with her.

  Unlike Honora, Emmie came from a large family. She’d grown up with her parents and four brothers, crammed into a tiny three-bedroom apartment on the same street. Also unlike Honora, Emmie had already worked her way through community college, sensibly ignoring her interest in baking to major in accounting. At twenty-five, her friend always looked exhausted, working long hours as an underpaid junior accountant on Wall Street, even on weekends.

  And now, Emmie’s round, pretty face looked more pinched than ever.

  “You don’t seem very happy,” Honora said quietly.

  Emmie took a deep breath. Her blond hair was tucked back in a chignon, and she was wearing the strapless pink silk gown in a flattering bias cut that the wedding planner had arranged. “You’re right.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m a lousy friend and I’m sorry.” She looked at the door. “It’s time to start. Your grandfather is probably waiting...”

  “Wait.” Honora looked at her friend anxiously. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Emmie paced a few steps, then stopped. “Look at how big this room is. And it’s just a vacation home. For two people.”

  “Three, once we have the baby.” Feeling guilty, Honora decided not to mention Nico’s island in the Caribbean, his chalet in St. Moritz, or his recently acquired, but never lived in, villa on the Amalfi Coast, for which they’d leave tonight on their honeymoon.

  Emmie looked out at the ocean through the wall of windows. “This is going to sound awful, but...for all these years, I’ve worked so hard.” She sounded as if she were about to cry. “I’ve worked myself to the bone, doing a job I hate, with people who treat me like dirt. But I’ve done it because I want my family to have a better life.”

  “I understand, Emmie.”

  “How can you?” She looked from Honora, in her strapless silk wedding gown, to the bouquet of pink roses and the big diamond on her hand. “You didn’t have to work for it. You’re just marrying it.”

  Honora’s cheeks went hot with shame as she looked down at her bouquet of pink roses. She couldn’t answer because she knew everything her friend said was true. A lump rose in her throat.

  “Damn it. I’m sorry.” Emmie reached for her hand,
tears streaming down her cheeks. “I hate myself for saying such awful things. And on your wedding day! I know you’re not marrying Nico for his money. You love him.” Her friend wiped her eyes. “You’re lucky, that’s all. And I’m hideously jealous and you should just smash cake in my face. I deserve it. Please forget everything I said and forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  The two friends hugged each other, but as the wedding planner knocked on the door and said, “It’s time,” Honora still felt the distance between them. As they went into the hall, she felt like she was leaving the world she’d grown up in behind, the world where things made sense. Because Emmie was right. In what world was it fair that Honora was suddenly rich, just because she’d slept with Nico, while Emmie, who’d worked all these years at a job she hated, still had so little?

  Things could have gone differently, Honora knew. If Nico hadn’t insisted on taking responsibility, she’d be raising the baby alone, with very little income. In fact, that had been the most likely outcome. So Honora was lucky.

  Just not lucky in love.

  No, she wouldn’t think about that. She’d just be grateful for what she had and not let herself feel sad about what she’d lost forever—the chance of loving someone, and being truly loved in return...

  “Are you ready?” the wedding planner asked brightly. Without waiting for an answer, the man turned to Emmie. “Now, you have to pay attention, when the music starts...”

  “You look beautiful, Honora.”

  Turning, she saw her grandfather behind her in the hallway. He was dressed in a tuxedo, waiting to walk her down the makeshift aisle on the bluff outside.

  “You clean up pretty well yourself.” She was relieved to see him. Her grandfather would help steady her nerves, reassure her about the lifetime commitment she was about to make.

  To her shock, she saw tears in his eyes. “I just wish your mother could be here.”

  Her mother. Honora had a sudden flash of memory of the day before the crash. Her red-haired mother, Bridget, hugging her tight. Holding her close.