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Baby By Accident(72)

By:Caro LaFever


She missed them. She missed his momma’s smile and pats. She missed Chi’s laugh. She missed the kids and their shrieks and giggles. She wanted the joy of his relatives around her. The sunny, happy days in the embrace of her new clan.

The family who stayed away while her mother was here.

Esther had made it clear the first night after her arrival what she thought of her daughter's in-laws. The dinner had become uncomfortable within a few short minutes. The gathering had been the last the family had attended with her mother.

“It is good for you to have time alone with your own momma,” Vico’s mother had said, patting Lise’s arm as they watched the cars load with relatives.

“The thought of that mob of his enjoying such a beautiful place is sinful.”

Stifling a sigh, Lise tried to focus on the peaceful burr of the bees instead of the whiny buzz of her mother’s voice. Her mother droned on and on. The sun slipped down the blue sky. The low growl of a boat motor echoed off the lake.

“Taking money from that lout is disgusting.” The older woman’s voice crackled with distaste. “But I did need the second gardener.”

She hummed distractedly. Vico had been generous, more than generous with Taverwood Grange. He seemed to understand his wife’s bittersweet attachment to it and had instigated a variety of needed repairs and improvements that should have sent her mother into giddiness.

Apparently not.

She should tell her mother of her changed feelings. She should start the campaign to change Esther Helton’s opinion of Vico. Except the day was too warm, and she was too sleepy, and all she wanted to do was think about her husband and her baby and be happy. Eventually, she’d have to put her foot down and cut her mother’s tirades off. But not now. Not yet.

The doze crept over her, settling her deeper into the chair.

“Did you hear me, Elizabeth?”

The sharp question jerked her from her snooze. “What?”

“I said, I have this well in hand for you.”

Pushing herself up, she leaned over and sipped on her drink, trying to break free of the remnants of sleep.

“You were absolutely right not to sign a prenuptial agreement with that brute.”

Lise ran a hand through her tousled hair. Amusement at her mother returned. Her mother, who conveniently forgot she held the exact opposite opinion before the wedding. Then, suddenly, the words jarred her. “What are you talking about?”

“The agreement makes it much easier.”

“What’s easier?” Focusing her bleary eyes on her mother’s rigid face, she tried to concentrate.

“Don’t worry.” The older woman leaned closer and smiled a tight, gritted grimace. “I will make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Mother.” She frowned in confusion. “I’m perfectly fine. Vico takes good care—”

“He’s not worthy of my little girl.”

Okay. She’d been putting this confrontation off with her mother. Still, this went too far. “Listen, I think—”

“Buon pomeriggio.” The dark-accented words fell from behind them. “La signora Helton. Che sorpresa.”

The voice plainly conveyed the surprise was not a pleasant one, but Lise wasn’t focusing on that. She jerked her head around and a spontaneous smile bloomed when she spotted her husband. He stood, leaning negligently on the door-frame, his Versace silk suit dark, his white shirt light in contrast to his skin. The red power tie flipped in the breeze, as did his long hair.

Her mother muttered beside her, dire curses and spells in all likelihood.

She didn’t care one iota what Esther Helton was feeling right now.

“Vico!” She wanted to leap from the chair, but her pregnancy made this an impossibility. Finally, she managed to pull herself off the lounge and stumble up the steps to her husband. For a moment, it surprised her he hadn’t helped her as he usually did, but the joy at seeing him filled her to the full, pushing any other considerations out of the way.

“You’re back early.” Flinging herself into his arms, she lifted her face for the inevitable kiss.

The kiss didn’t come.

She opened her eyes and stared into her husband’s gaze. Was it her imagination? Were his eyes rather hard, like brown stones, not a gold glint in sight? She forced another smile. This must be her imagination. They’d separated so sweetly three days ago. “I’m happy to see you.”

At last, his arms went around her and he gave her a dry peck on the cheek.

Anxiety held her in its grip. “Has something happened? Is it business? The family?”

“No.” His gaze was wary as he lifted his head.

Stepping out of his lukewarm welcome, she frowned. “Then what is it?”