Bound By His Vow: His Final Bargain / The Rings That Bind / Marriage Made of Secrets

CHAPTER SEVEN

ALESSANDRA HAD ONLY just woken when Eliza came back to the nursery. ‘I’ve got a special surprise in store,’ she said as she lifted her out of the cot.

‘What is it?’ Alessandra asked, rubbing at one of her eyes.

Tatiana had explained to Eliza that eye-rubbing was something a lot of vision-impaired children did. But while it gave temporary comfort similar to sucking a thumb, as the child got older it was less socially acceptable. Tatiana had advised that distracting the child from the habit was the best way to manage it, so Eliza gently pulled her hand away and circled her tiny palm with the finger play, Ring a Ring o’ Roses.

Alessandra giggled delightedly. ‘Do it again.’

‘Give me your other hand.’

The little girl held out her hand and Eliza repeated the rhyme, her heart squeezing as she saw the unadulterated joy on the toddler’s face. ‘Again! Again!’

‘Maybe later,’ Eliza said. ‘I have other plans for you, young lady. We’re going for a walk.’

‘I don’t want to walk. Carry me.’

‘No carrying today, little Munchkin,’ Eliza said. ‘You’ve got two lovely little legs. You need to learn to use them a bit more.’

She took the little tot’s hand and led her out to the landing and then down the stairs. She got Alessandra to feel the balustrade as she went down and to plant her feet carefully on each step before taking another. It was a slow process but well worth it as by the time they got down to the ground floor she could tell Alessandra was a little more confident.

‘Now we’re going to go outside to the garden,’ Eliza said. ‘Have you been out there much?’

‘Kathleen used to take me sometimes but then she got stinged by a bee. I cried because I thought it was going to sting me too.’

‘Don’t worry; I won’t let you get stung.’ Eliza gave the little child’s hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. ‘There’s a lot of lovely things to smell and feel out there. Flowers are some of the most beautiful things in nature but the really cool thing is you don’t have to see them to appreciate them. Lots of them have really lovely perfumes, particularly roses. I bet after a while you’ll be able to tell them apart, just from smelling them.’

Once they were out in the garden, Eliza led Alessandra down to one of the rose gardens. She picked some blooms and held them to the child’s little nose, smiling as Alessandra sniffed and smiled in turn. ‘Beyootiful!’ she said.

‘That’s a deep red one,’ Eliza said. ‘It’s got a really rich scent. Here’s a bright pink one. Its scent is a little less intense. What do you think?’

Alessandra pushed her nose against the velvet bloom. ‘Nice.’

‘Feel the petals,’ Eliza said. ‘There aren’t any thorns on this one. I checked.’

The little girl fingered the soft petals, discovering each fold, her face full of concentration as if she was trying to picture what she was feeling. ‘Can I smell some more?’

‘Of course.’ Eliza picked a yellow one this time. ‘This one reminds me of the sunshine. It’s bright and cheerful with a light, fresh fragrance.’

‘Mmm.’ Alessandra breathed in the fragrance. ‘But I like the first one best.’

‘That was the red one.’ Eliza put them in a row on the ground and got Alessandra to sit on the grass beside her. ‘Let’s play a game. I’m going to hand you a rose and you have to tell me which colour it is by the smell. Do you think you can do that?’

‘Will I know my colours after this?’

Eliza looked at the tiny tot’s engaging little face and felt her heart contract. ‘I think you’re going to be an absolute star at this game. Now, here goes. Which one is this?’

Leo was coming back from speaking to one of the gardeners working on a retaining wall at the back of the garden when he saw Eliza and his little daughter sitting in a patch of sunshine on the lawn near the main rose garden. Eliza’s attention was focused solely on Alessandra. She was smiling and tickling his daughter’s nose with a rose. Alessandra was giggling in delight. The tinkling bell sound of his little girl’s laughter sounded out across the garden. It was the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. It made something that had been stiff and locked inside his chest for years loosen.

He watched as Eliza rained a handful of rose petals from above Alessandra’s head. Alessandra reached up and caught some of them, crushing them to her face and giggling anew.

He could have stood there and watched them for hours.

But then, as if Eliza had suddenly sensed his presence, she turned her head and the remaining petals in her hand dropped to the lawn like confetti.

He closed the distance in a few strides and his little daughter also turned her head in his direction as she heard him approach. ‘Papà?’

‘You look like you are having a lot of fun, mia piccola.’

‘I know my colours!’ she said excitedly. ‘Eliza’s been teaching me.’

Leo quirked one of his brows at Eliza. ‘You look like you’re enjoying yourself too.’

‘Alessandra is a very clever little girl,’ she said. ‘She’s a joy to teach. Now, Alessandra, I’m going to pick some more roses. Let’s show Papà how clever you are at distinguishing which one is which.’

Leo watched as she picked a handful of roses and came back to sit on the lawn next to his daughter. Alessandra’s expression was a picture to behold. She held up her face for the brush of each velvet rose against her little nose. She breathed deeply and, after thinking about it for a moment, proudly announced, ‘That’s the pink one!’

‘Very good,’ Eliza said. ‘Now, how about this one?’

‘It’s the red one!’

Leo looked on in amazement. How had she done it? It was like a miracle. His little daughter was able to tell each rose from the others on the basis of its smell but somehow Eliza had got her to associate the colour as well. Even though, strictly speaking, Alessandra hadn’t learned her colours at all, it was a way to make her distinguish them by another route. It was nothing less than a stroke of genius. He felt incredibly touched that Eliza had taken the trouble to work her way through a task that had seemed insurmountable so that his little girl could feel more normal.

‘OK, now, how about this one?’ Eliza held up a white one and Alessandra sniffed and sniffed, her little face screwing up in confusion.

‘It’s not the yellow one, is it? It smells different.’

‘You clever, clever girl!’ Eliza said. ‘It’s a white one. I tried to trick you, but you’re too clever by half. Well done.’

Alessandra was grinning from ear to ear. ‘I like this game.’

Leo looked down at Eliza’s warm smile. It made that stiff part of his chest loosen another notch. He imagined her with her own child—how natural she would be, how loving and nurturing. It wasn’t just the trained teacher in her, either. He was starting to realise it was an essential part of her nature. She genuinely loved children and wanted to bring out the best in them. No wonder she had been recognised as a teacher of excellence. She cared about their learning and achievement. He could see the joy and satisfaction on her face as she worked with Alessandra. Sure, he was paying her big money to do it, but he suspected it wasn’t the money that motivated her at all.

Why couldn’t she have been Alessandra’s mother?

‘You’re scarily good at this game,’ Eliza said. ‘I’ll have to be on my toes to think of new ones to challenge you.’ She got to her feet and took one of Alessandra’s hands in hers. ‘We’d better get you inside, out of this hot sun. I don’t want you to get sunburnt.’

Leo moved forward to scoop his daughter up to carry her back to the villa but she seemed content to walk, albeit gingerly, by Eliza’s side. He watched as she toddled alongside Eliza, her little hand entwined with hers, her footsteps awkward and cautious, but, with Eliza’s gentle encouragement, she gradually gained a little more confidence.

‘Four steps, Alessandra,’ Eliza said as they got to the flagstone steps leading to the back entrance of the villa. ‘Do you want to count them as we go?’

‘One…two…three…four!’

Eliza ruffled her hair with an affectionate hand. ‘What did I tell you? You’re an absolute star. You’ll soon be racing about the place without any help at all.’

Marella appeared from the kitchen as they came in. ‘I’ve been baking your favourite cookies, Alessandra. Why don’t we let Papà and Eliza have a moment while we have a snack?’

‘Grazie, Marella,’ Leo said. ‘There are a few things I’d like to talk to Eliza about. Give us ten minutes.’

‘Sì, signor.’

Leo met Eliza’s gaze once the housekeeper had left with his daughter. ‘It seems I was right in selecting you as a suitable stand-in for Kathleen. You’ve achieved much more in a day with Alessandra than she has in months.’

‘I’m sure Kathleen is totally competent as a nanny.’

‘That is true, but you seem to have a natural affinity with Alessandra.’

‘She’s a lovely child.’

‘Most of the people who deal with her find her difficult.’

‘She has a disability,’ she said. ‘It’s easy to focus on what she can’t do, but in my experience in teaching difficult children it is wiser to focus on what they can do. She can do a lot more than you probably realise.’

A frown pulled at his brow. ‘Are you saying I’m holding her back in some way?’

‘No, of course not,’ she said. ‘You’re doing all the right things. It’s just that it’s sometimes hard to see what she needs from a parent’s perspective. You want to protect her but in protecting her you may end up limiting her. She has to experience life. She has to experience the dangers and the disappointments; otherwise she will always live in a protective bubble that has no relation to the real world. She needs to live in the real world. She’s blind but that doesn’t mean she can’t live a fulfilled and satisfying life.’

He moved to the other side of the room, his hand going to his neck, where a golf ball of tension was gnawing at him. ‘What do you suggest I do that I’m not already doing?’

‘You could spend more time with her, one on one. She needs quality time with you but also quantity time.’

Guilt prodded at him. He knew he wasn’t as hands on as he could be. No one had played with him as a child. His mother had been too busy pursuing her own interests while his father had worked long hours to try and keep his company from going under. Leo wanted to be a better parent than his had been, but Alessandra’s blindness made him feel so wretchedly inadequate. It had paralysed him as a parent. What if he did or said the wrong thing? What if he upset her or made her feel guilty for having special needs? Giulia, in her distress, had said unforgivable things in the hearing of Alessandra. He had tried to make up for it, but there were times when he wondered if it was already too late.

‘I’ll try to free up some time,’ he said. ‘It’s hard when I’m trying to juggle a global business. I can’t always be here. I have to rely on others to take care of her.’

‘You could take her with you occasionally,’ she said. ‘It would be good for her.’

‘What would be the point?’ He threw her a frustrated glance. ‘She can’t see anything.’

‘No, but she can feel, and she would be with you more than she is now. You are all she has now. The bond she has with you is what will build her confidence and sustain her through life. Stop feeling guilty. It’s not your fault she’s blind. It wasn’t Giulia’s fault. It’s just what happened. Those were the cards you were dealt. You have to accept that.’

‘You’re not a parent. You know nothing of the guilt a parent feels.’

Her eyes flinched as if he had struck her. ‘I know much more about guilt than you realise. I live with it every day. I agonise over it. But does it change anything? No. That’s life. You have to find a way to deal with it.’ Her gaze fell away from his as she pushed back a strand of her hair off her face.

Leo frowned as he narrowed his gaze to her left hand. ‘Where’s your ring?’

She glanced down at her hand and her face blanched. ‘I don’t know…’ She looked up at him in panic, her eyes wide with alarm. ‘It was there earlier. I have to find it. It’s not mine.’

‘What do you mean, it’s not yours?’

She shifted her gaze again, her demeanour agitated. ‘It’s my fiancé’s mother’s. It’s a family heirloom. I have to find it. It must have slipped off somewhere. It’s a bit loose. I should’ve had it adjusted, but I—’

‘It’s probably in the garden where you were playing with Alessandra,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and have a look.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ she said, almost pushing him out of the way in her haste to get out of the door. ‘I have to find it.’

‘One of the gardeners will pick it up if it’s out there,’ Leo said. ‘Stop panicking. It didn’t look all that valuable.’

She met his gaze with her distressed one. ‘It’s not about the monetary value. Why does everything have to be about money to you? It’s got enormous sentimental value. I can’t lose it. I just can’t. I have to find it.’

‘I trust my staff to hand it in if they find it. You don’t have to worry. No one is going to rush it off to the nearest pawn shop.’

Her brow was a fine map of worried lines. ‘You don’t understand. I have to find it. I don’t feel right without it on my finger.’

He grasped her flailing hand and held it firm. ‘Why? Because you need it there as a reminder, don’t you? Your fiancé is thousands of miles away but without that ring there to prod your conscience you could so easily forget all about him, couldn’t you?’

She pulled out of his hold and dashed out of the room. Leo heard the slapping of her flat shoes along the marbled floor.

He followed at a much slower pace.

He would be perfectly happy if the blasted ring was never found.

Eliza looked everywhere but there was no sign of her ring. She went over every patch of the lawn. She went over the rose beds and the pathways but there was no trace of it anywhere. Her rising panic beat a sickening tattoo in her chest. How would she explain it to Samantha? It was so careless of her to have neglected to get it tightened. How would she ever make it up to her? It wasn’t just any old ring. It was a symbol of Samantha’s lifelong love for her husband Geoff and now she had lost it.

Leo had come out and spoken to the gardener before he joined her. ‘Any sign?’

Eliza shook her head, her stomach still churning in anguish. ‘Samantha will be devastated.’

‘Samantha?’

‘My fiancé’s mother.’ She wrung her hands, her eyes scanning the lawn in the vain hope that the sunlight would pick up the glitter of the ring. ‘I don’t know how I’ll ever tell her. I have to find it. I have to.’

‘The gardener will keep on looking. You should come indoors. You look like you’re beginning to catch the sun.’

Eliza glanced at her bare arms. They were indeed a little pink in spite of the sunscreen she had put on earlier. She suddenly felt utterly exhausted. Losing the ring was the last straw on top of everything else. That telltale ache had started deep inside her chest. The tears were not far away. She could feel them burning like peroxide behind her eyes. She put her hand up and pinched the bridge of her nose to try and stop them from spilling.

‘Cara.’ Leo put a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘You’re getting yourself in such a state. It’s just a ring. It can be replaced.’

She shrugged off his hold and glared up at him with burning resentment. ‘That’s just so typical of you, isn’t it? If you lose something you just walk out and get a new one. That’s what you did when you lost me, wasn’t it? You just went right on out and picked up someone else to replace me as soon as you could.’

The garden seemed to go into a stunned silence after her outburst. Even the light breeze that had been teasing the leaves on the trees had suddenly stilled, as if in shock at the bitterness of her words.

Eliza bit her lip as she lowered her gaze. ‘I’m sorry…That was wrong of me. You had a perfect right to move on with your life…’

There was another tense beat of silence.

‘I hope you find your ring.’ He gave her a curt nod and turned and strode across the lawn, back past the fountain until finally he disappeared out of sight.

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHEN ELIZA CAME downstairs after putting Alessandra to bed there was an envelope with her name on it propped up on the kitchen counter.

‘That’s your ring,’ Marella said as she came out of the pantry. ‘Signor Valente found it in the grotto. He was out there for ages looking for it.’

‘That was…kind of him…’ Eliza fingered the ring through the paper of the envelope. ‘I think I’d better get it tightened before I wear it again.’

Marella cocked her head at her as she picked up a cleaning cloth. ‘How long have you been engaged to this fiancé of yours?’

‘Um…since I was nineteen…eight years.’

‘It’s a long time.’

She shifted her gaze from the penetrating black ink of the housekeeper’s. ‘Yes…yes, it is…’

‘You’re not in love with him, sì?’

‘I love him.’ Had she answered too quickly? Had she sounded too defensive? ‘I’ve always loved him.’

‘That’s not the same thing as being in love,’ Marella said. ‘I see how you are with Signor Valente and him with you. He stirs something in you. Something you’ve tried for a long time to suppress, sì?’

Eliza felt a wave of colour wash over her cheeks. ‘I’m just the replacement nanny. I’ll be gone in four weeks.’

Marella gave the counter top a slow wipe as she mused, ‘I wonder if he will let you go.’

‘I’m absolutely certain Signor Valente will be enormously pleased to see the back of me,’ Eliza said with feeling.

Marella stopped wiping and gave her a level look. ‘I wasn’t talking about Signor Valente.’

A telling silence slipped past.

‘Excuse me…’ Eliza forced a polite smile that felt more like a grimace. ‘I have to check on Alessandra.’

When Eliza came downstairs an hour later Marella was just leaving to attend a family function.

‘There is a meal all set up on gas flamed warmers in the dining room,’ she said as she tied a nylon scarf around her neck. ‘I think Signor Valente is in the study. Will you be all right to handle dishing up? Don’t worry about clearing up afterwards. I can do that in the morning.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of leaving a mess for you to face in the morning,’ Eliza said. ‘I’m perfectly capable of dishing up and clearing away. Have a good evening.’

‘Grazie.’

Eliza glanced towards the study once the housekeeper had left. Should she wait until Leo came out for dinner to thank him for finding her ring or should she seek him out now? She was still deciding when the door suddenly opened.

He saw her hovering there and arched a brow. ‘Did you want me?’

I want you. I want you. I want you. It was like a chant inside her head but it was reverberating throughout her body as well. She could feel that on-off pulse deep in her core intensifying the longer his dark, mesmerising gaze held hers.

‘Um…I wanted to thank you for finding my ring,’ she said, knowing her cheeks were burning fiery red. ‘It was very thoughtful of you to take the time to keep looking.’

‘It was behind the seat in the grotto. You must’ve lost it when you picked up your cardigan.’ His dark gaze glinted satirically. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t notice it missing earlier.’

Eliza set her mouth. ‘Yes, well, I’m going to get it tightened so it doesn’t happen again.’

He reached for her hand before she could step away. She sucked in a breath as those long, strong, tanned fingers imprisoned hers. Her heart started a madcap rhythm behind her breastbone and her skin tingled and tightened all over. ‘W…what are you doing?’ Was that her voice, that tiny mouse-like squeak of sound?

His gaze went to her mouth, lingering there. She felt her lips soften and part slightly, her response to him as automatic as breathing. His fingers were warm and dry around hers. She imagined them on other parts of her body, how it had felt to have them caress her intimately, her breasts, her inner thighs, the feminine heart of her that had swelled and flowered under his spine-tingling touch. Her insides clenched with longing as she thought of the stroke of his tongue against her—that most intimate of all kisses. How he had seemed to know from their first time together what she needed to reach fulfilment.

She could see the memory of it in his gaze as it came back to mesh with hers. It made her spine shiver to see that silent message pass between them…the universal language of making love.

Passionate, primal—primitive.

‘Ho voglia di te—ti voglio adesso.’ His words were like a verbal caress, all the more powerfully, intoxicatingly stimulating as they were delivered in his mother tongue.

Eliza swallowed as her heart raced with excitement. ‘I don’t understand what you just said…’ But I’ve got a pretty fair idea!

Those dark eyes glittered with carnal intent as he grasped her by the hips and, with a little jerk forwards, he locked her against his erection. She felt it against her belly, the thunder of his blood mimicking the sensual cyclone that was happening within her own body. Her breasts ached for his touch. She could feel them swelling against the lace constraints of her bra. Her mouth tingled in anticipation of his covering it, plundering it. She sent the tip of her tongue out to moisten the surface of her lips. Her need of him was consuming her common sense like galloping, greedy flames did to a little pile of tinder-dry toothpicks.

‘I want you—I want you now.’ He said it this time in English and it had exactly the same devastatingly sensual impact.

‘I want you too.’ It was part confession, part plea.

He splayed a hand through her hair, gripping her almost roughly as his mouth came down on hers. It was a kiss that spoke of desperate longing, of needs that had for too long gone unmet, of a man wanting a woman so badly he could barely control his primitive response to her. It thrilled Eliza to feel that level of desire in him because it so completely and so utterly matched her own.

The stroke and glide of his tongue against hers set her senses aflame. She undulated her hips against him, whimpering in delight as he in turn growled deep in his throat and responded by pressing even harder against her.

His hands moved over her body, skating over her breasts, leaving them tingling and twitching in their wake. She wanted more. When had she not wanted more from him? She wanted to feel his hands on her, flesh-to-flesh, to feel their skin in warm and sensual contact.

Her hands went to the front of his shirt, pulling at it as if it was nothing but a sheet of paper covering him. Buttons popped and a seam tore but she didn’t hold back. Her mouth went to every bit of hard muscled flesh she uncovered. From the dish at the base of his neck just below his Adam’s apple, down his sternum, taking a sideways detour to his flat dark male nipples, rolling the tip of her tongue over them in turn, before going lower in search of his belly button and beyond.

‘Wait.’ The one word command was rough and low. ‘Ladies first.’

A shiver ran over her. She knew what he was going to do. The anticipation of it, the memory of it made her legs tremble like leaves in a wind tunnel.