“For the next week I’m going to spoil you,” he said, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, drawing her against him. He lowered his head and whispered, “I’ll spoil you so much you’ll never want to leave me.”

  “Be careful what you wish for, Dante. There’s no going back. You’ll never push me away again.”

  “I’ll never want to. I’ll never let you go,” he growled.

  Abby’s heart kicked with a burst of clamoring exultation. He slid his hands up and cupped her breasts, and the pleasure of his touch swelled through her. Never had she felt like this in all the previous years of her marriage.

  She leaned back into the powerful cradle of his thighs, wanting to feel his need for her, wanting him to know she relished being his wife. She felt his hands fumble with the zipper of her dress in his haste to get to her. He grazed soft kisses over one bared shoulder, then his mouth became more possessive—a sensuous branding that made her quiver with anticipation.

  “I can’t believe you’ve come back to me and given me a second chance,” he murmured as he slowly removed her clothes, caressing them from her body, his hands sliding, stroking, palms gently rubbing her peaked nipples, sliding downward, his fingers finding the moist heated center only his touch could excite. He turned her in his arms, his mouth trailing kisses everywhere, a hot suction that was driving her to distraction. The knowledge that he not only desired her in his bed, but wanted her in his life, was incredibly arousing.

  He took her lips in a drugging kiss. She had to grip his shoulders to stop herself from collapsing as her knees grew weak. He lifted his head.

  “Come, let’s make a bambino.”

  The dream shattered. Dante didn’t seem to notice her sudden tension. When he finally moved her onto the bed, a mass of turbulent emotions assailed her. She loved him. Wanted him. But she might not be able to give him what he really needed. She closed her eyes and tried to push away the fear polluting her mind about would happen to this relationship when she told him the truth. She had to tell him and soon, but not now. Now all she wanted was to relish this perfect moment, this perfect union and forget it was under threat.

  After the honeymoon. She’d tell him after the honeymoon.

  As the strong thrust of him slid deeply inside her, she pretended she wasn’t damaged goods and that they really could be conceiving a child. She opened her eyes and was immediately hypnotized by the compelling intensity of his eyes blazing into hers. Later. She’d worry about it later.

  She prayed later never came.

  The next morning Dante rose early and went into Florence to make all the travel arrangements. Once again she found it difficult to face food. She left the breakfast Rachele had prepared for her untouched. Withholding a life-altering secret sure did make her feel sick. Her stomach churned with a mixture of fear and guilt.

  Katarina and Nana arrived at her room before she’d even showered. They shooed her into the bathroom, telling her to shower while they decided what to pack. She told them not to pack too much as she’d selected the Maldives for their honeymoon. She didn’t intend to be wearing much more than a bikini.

  Half an hour later, Abby emerged from the bathroom dressed for her trip to Paris. When she saw the clothes laid out on her bed, she laughed out loud. Well, clothes was a very loose term. The two older women seemed to be having fun selecting the most scandalous nightwear they could find among her clothes.

  “I will be let out of bed occasionally, Katarina. Perhaps you could allow me a few pairs of shorts and T-shirts, too.”

  “I’ve been on a honeymoon, and with Dante’s father we never left the bedroom.” Katarina gave a wicked smile. “With my son, it will be the same. You’ll see. I expect a grandchild in nine months’ time.”

  Abby’s inner excitement shriveled and died. With a jolt, she realized it wasn’t only Dante she was withholding information from. It was his family, too.

  “Are you all right, Abby?” Her grandmother stopped folding a sundress, concern marring her face.

  “What? Yes, I’m fine, Nana. I’ve just remembered I have to make a phone call.”

  Abby left them to it and slipped out of the room. She flipped open her mobile phone and called Dr. Molinari. She was put through to his nurse, Roberta.

  “Please apologize to Dr. Molinari for me, Roberta. I’m going to have to reschedule my appointment for tomorrow. My husband has planned a surprise second honeymoon. We leave today. I’ll pay for any inconvenience.”

  “How lovely, Contessa, a surprise second honeymoon. No payment will be necessary. Did you need to talk with Dr. Molinari before you leave?”

  “I don’t think so. Everything can wait until I get back.”

  “True. Don’t you worry about anything. Go and enjoy. Would you like to reschedule now or wait until you return?”

  “I’ll reschedule on my return, grazie.” She hung up.

  “Reschedule what?” her grandmother asked quietly from the door. “What’s going on?”

  Abby took a hesitant step. For a split second, she wanted to race into her grandmother’s arms and confess all. She longed for Nana to tell her everything would be all right.

  “Nothing. It’s not important.” Nana stood looking at her, waiting. Abby crossed her fingers behind her back. “I changed a hair appointment, Nana, that’s all.”

  Her grandmother’s face broke into a smile. “I was worried for a moment. When you collapsed my first night in hospital, I thought the worst.”

  She hugged her grandmother. “I was worried about you, too.”

  “I know. Besides, that was over five weeks ago and you’ve not had a repeat of the pain. I’m sorry, your abdominal seizure must have been caused by all the stress of my operation.” She hugged Abby back. “I promise not to scare you again.” Nana disentangled herself from Abby’s hold and turned to leave, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll go and ensure Katarina has packed a few clothes that actually cover you.”

  Just as well Nana had her back to her, for as soon as she’d turned to leave, Abby immediately collapsed onto a chair, her legs giving out from under her. She was late, she realized. And she was never late.

  Her period was overdue.

  Her hand fluttered above her stomach. Her whole body drumming with leashed excitement. No. She would not get her hopes up. She needed to get hold of a pregnancy test. And fast. If she was pregnant, this was going to be the best honeymoon ever.

  Chapter 15

  They’d been in Maldives, paradise as she called it, three days and yet Abby still stared dry-mouthed at her husband’s bronzed, muscular torso as he walked out of the water. His stomach was flat, his shoulders wide, and his chest shadowed with dark hair that only added to his ruggedly masculinity. He was incredibly handsome, and a familiar warmth developed low in her pelvis, immediately followed by the gut-wrenching persistent sorrow churning in her stomach. She’d been nauseous since the pregnancy result, which had been negative. Worse, during their two nights in Paris, she’d experienced some spotting.

  She wasn’t pregnant.

  Even with a view like this, virgin white sand so fine it seemed almost translucent, turquoise blue water almost as stunning as Dante’s pale blue eyes, and a man who was a real-life fantasy, she could barely contain her sorrow. It was hard hiding it from him. It was draining trying to be happy.

  She watched Dante shake the water from his hair and swipe the black curls off his face. Guilt ate at her soul. He was still oblivious to the news that would devastate his world.

  It was time. She needed to tell him.

  The first night at their seaside private villa, as they lay on the lounge under the cloudless sky alight with diamond-sparkling stars, he’d told her about his father and how he thought he might die young, too. She’d hugged him close and said, “So that’s why having a son as soon as possible was so important to you. As we’re only one year into our formal separation, we wouldn’t be divorced for another two years and you thought you’d run out of time.” Her body shook with stabbing hurt. “It didn’t matter who the mother was.”

  He’d cupped her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “The moment you entered my den, just over six weeks ago, it mattered. That’s why I insisted on the deal. I instinctively knew I had to have you back. Just as I instinctively knew the first time I saw you that you were the one for me.”

  Heat had flooded up her throat and her breathing almost stopped. “Then why were you so cold to begin with? I thought you hated me.”

  He’d kissed every inch of her face and explained that he felt ashamed and selfish for intending to make her love a dead man walking. She’d kissed him back and said every person was a dead man walking. Everyone died.

  “I’m stupido. I know. What do you expect? I’m a man.” He’d laughed. Then he’d laid her on the cushions and made slow, erotic love to her under the stars, proving to her just what a man he was. They’d been so happy over the following days that she’d chickened out of telling him. Why ruin the moment? a loud voice inside her head shouted. Tell him after the honeymoon, she’d told herself sternly.

  Not telling him will only make it seem worse later, a smaller voice had replied.

  Dante approached over the sand of their private beach. The water droplets glistening over his skin made him look magical. She was definitely under his spell and didn’t care. His eyes gleamed with undisguised need.

  She stared back a hungry welcome.

  He flopped down on his towel beside her. “My little flower looks as though she’s wilting in the heat. Go in for a swim.” He shook his head, sending water droplets cascading all over her.

  Abby gasped at the feel of the coolness against her heated skin. “I was enjoying the view too much.”

  “Then fair’s fair. It should be my turn to enjoy the view.”

  She accepted his challenge. She’d see how long it took before he couldn’t resist joining her in the water. She reached for her bikini top. He stopped her. “You won’t need that.”

  “Fine. I’ll need some more sunscreen then.” She purposely squeezed suntan lotion onto her hands and began rubbing it all over her naked breasts. He gave a low groan and reached for her.

  She stepped back. “No. No. You said I needed a swim.” She walked in her thong bikini bottom, with hips swaying, toward the sea. She bet he wouldn’t let her get to the water’s edge before racing to join her.

  She was almost at the water when she heard a mobile phone ring. She smiled at the curse issued from his lips. She knew he had to answer it. A man running a large business dynasty couldn’t just disappear. Dante had been pretty good at keeping work at bay. Usually he dealt with the interruptions quickly, delegating tasks to his two brothers-in-law or telling them he’d get to it later.

  She shielded her eyes against the glare and looked up the beach. He stood and gave a hesitant wave before heading toward the villa. The call must be important. The water lapping at her toes was very inviting, so she decided to have a swim. Dante could be a while.

  Her hands and feet had gone wrinkly, she’d waited so long in the water for Dante to return. But he hadn’t emerged back onto the beach. On her way back, she picked up her things and, singing softly to herself, made her way to the villa. Her stomach rumbled loudly. She hoped housekeeping had left the plate of freshly cut fruit she’d ordered.

  Still singing, she entered the villa. She could hear Dante barking at someone on the phone. She noticed all the drawers and cupboards were flung open and Dante’s bags were packed and standing by the door. So much for being able to spare a full seven days off work. She couldn’t help the niggling annoyance.

  Dante walked out of the bathroom. A wave of unease swept over her.

  “Are we going somewhere?” she asked, disappointment ringing in her tone.

  “No.”

  “Then why are the bags packed?”

  “My bags, not yours.”

  “Oh. Was the call urgent then?

  Dante swung to face her, hostility screaming at her from his stern features. “Care to tell me about Dr. Molinari?”

  Her mouth went as dry as the Sahara under the baking sun, and she gripped the door handle for support. “How did you…” She stepped backward, flustered, confused, and appalled he’d spoken to Molinari before she could explain the situation.

  “He rang to see how you were since you’d postponed your laparoscopic surgery. How long, Abby? How long have you known you have a problem conceiving?” He slammed his fist against the wall. “Did you know before you agreed to give me a son? Did you know before you married me?”

  “No,” she cried, reaching for him. “No.”

  He knocked her hand aside and looked at her in disgust. “Two nights ago, I poured my soul out to you in this very villa. Not once did you say, ‘Oh by the way, I might not be able to have children.’”

  “I didn’t think this was the best time.”

  “Perhaps you’d have kept me waiting and guessing, just like the first year of our marriage. Every month hoping and praying for a pregnancy.” He took two strides toward her, gripped her upper arms, and glared down at her. “I never thought you could be so cruel. The waiting, the hoping, when all the while you knew it would never happen. You were on the pill then. Dio, how did I ever let you fool me again?”

  He thrust her away and she wrapped her arms around herself, staring at him in shock. She could feel the imprint of his fingers, reminders of his rage. Feel the pain of his grip, reminders of her guilt.

  “Please let me explain. I was going to tell⁠—”

  He held up his hand. “Don’t. I don’t wish to hear more lies.” He moved toward his suitcases. He bent to pick them up and Abby suddenly found her voice.

  “Please, you must let me explain. It’s not confirmed that I can’t have children. Dr. Molinari is waiting on tests. I have to have a small operation, and that’s why I haven’t told you.”

  He ignored her and walked to the door.

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you. Just like you didn’t tell anyone about your tests. I didn’t want to worry you until I was certain.”

  Her words petered out as he dropped his bags and raked a hand through his hair. His look was so full of hate it almost stopped her heart.

  “I don’t believe you, Abby. I thought you’d grown up. I thought this time we could have a grown-up relationship. A real marriage. But you’re still a child. Still playing games filled with lies and deceit.”

  Her limbs refused to move. She swallowed back the tears. “That’s not true. You’re using me not telling you about Dr. Molinari as an excuse to get rid of damaged goods!”

  “Christo, grow up, Abby. I don’t care about the fact you might not be able to conceive. It would be a blow, but there are ways and means around these things. It’s about trust,” he said, stalking closer again. “I can’t trust you. These past weeks with you made me realize what a true marriage was all about and more importantly, that I wanted it. I wanted someone to share the good and bad life throws at you. Someone to love and be loved in return. A wife who would always support me and me her, a real partnership—like my parents.” He looked at her with such disappointment it made her heart ache. “I thought that woman was you. But I was mistaken. I refuse to give my heart to a woman who locks me out, who doesn’t confide in me, who lies to me⁠—”

  “Oh, like you confided in me.”

  “When it counted, I did confide in you. I told you everything. I bared my soul and got nothing in return,” he roared. “I can’t—no, won’t—live with that.”

  Abby sucked in a breath. “I only learned about my condition shortly after my grandmother’s operation. I’m only twenty-three years old and to be told I might need a hysterectomy… You have no idea what that feels like, especially when the man who means everything in the world to me is so desperate for a child he blackmails me into his bed.” She gave a sob. “How could I tell you?”

  He stopped pacing and glared at her. “In the beginning, I understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m not proud of how I behaved. But here, on our honeymoon, alone—after the other night?” He shook his head. “You should have told me. Now it’s too late. I don’t think I can ever forgive you for not trusting in me.”

  An icy blast wafted over her, chilled her down to the bone. She hung her head in defeat. She knew what was coming.

  “That’s the problem, Abby. You didn’t trust in me. I’m leaving for Paris. I need some space to think. I’ll send the plane back for you to take you wherever you want to go.”

  “Go? I’m going back to Florence. Back to the villa, our home. You just accused me of being immature. Surely we can discuss this like two adults.”

  He looked out at the serene ocean, glittering in the sunshine. “I don’t know if I can do this, our marriage. I originally thought having a wife I didn’t love was the best thing all around. Neither of us would be left brokenhearted if anything happened to me. Clean and neat. All I wanted was children.”

  She dashed tears from her cheeks. “That doesn’t sound like living. It sounds like hiding, giving up, letting the best things of life—love, family—pass you by.”

  Dante’s face was dark and he nodded slowly. “You’re right. It would be a waste of life—mine and yours. That’s why I have to think. I no longer want a wife just so I can have a child. I want more.”

  “You have that with me.”

  “Do I?” He looked deep into her eyes. “I wonder if that’s true. I don’t think you ever loved me. You left and never looked back. You only came back to me because you wanted to help your grandmother. If I find out you’ve known all along that you couldn’t have children… Then I’ll know you never loved me, and this was all about the money for the operation.”

  She took a step forward, pleading. “Please don’t do this, Dante. I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  He ignored her. “Go back to the villa.”

  “You’re taking the easy way out. You’re trying to find a reason to get rid of me because I can’t have children.” As soon as she said it, she regretted it. The raw pain on his face told her that his feelings went much deeper than that. But she was furious and hurt, and she wanted him to stay and fight for her—for them.