Baby By Accident(79)

Now though? Now the fairytale dream lay in shambles at her feet.

Why hadn’t she seen this coming?

Guilt had settled on her as she’d sat on the terrace staring blindly at the empty pool. For some reason, the fact it was drained and covered, prepared for winter made her even more depressed.

This was her fault. Her mother should have been told the truth. The truth about her love and her wish to stay with Vico forever. She’d planned on doing it. She’d planned on making it clear to her mother how much had changed. But she’d left it too late. She’d stuck her head in the sand and wallowed in her happiness for too long.

Now great damage had been done.

Lise lifted her hands and wiped away more tears. The memory of his eyes, those golden, tawny eyes which were always alive—alive with passion and tenderness, love and warmth. The memory of how dead they were they last time he looked at her…

A clutch of raw agony caught her throat.

She’d done that. With her willful avoidance of a confrontation with her mother. It was no excuse that she’d been doing it since childhood, that she often merely let her mother grumble and groan without challenging her. It was no excuse she’d thought it could be easily handled at a later time. She hadn’t seen that her mother had become a runaway locomotive, intent on her mission to get Vico Mattare. It was no excuse.

She’d damaged him. She’d seen it in his eyes.

The guilt gutted her. Swirling and sucking at her heart and love.

How was she going to fix this?

Because she must. She couldn’t let this go, couldn’t stick her head in the sand again. Because she wasn’t the same child who’d withdrawn into reserved respect as her parents continued to isolate her. She wasn’t the kid who’d only rebelled once when she’d demanded a university degree instead of finishing school. She wasn’t the distant, aloof creature she’d been when her love had walked into her life with his passionate intensity and impatient impetuousness.

She couldn’t let go of this deep, powerful love she never realized she was capable of.

If she did, she’d give up on herself, the new Lise. Give up on who she really was, who she’d found in this home, in his family, in his arms.

She’d lose the essence of her true self if she lost him.

With a sudden resolve, she swept away the last of her tears. She wasn’t going to cry anymore. She wasn’t going to stumble around looking forlorn. She wasn’t going to let go.

Okay, she’d been stupid. However, he’d been stupid too.

Wrenching the water off, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a plush, lime-green towel around her. She walked to the mirror and looked directly into her eyes. The rims were red, yet the blue was determined. Her jaw firmed.

“I’m not going to let him do this,” she stated to her image. “I am not going to let him win. Not this time.”

Vico had believed the worst instantly. Without giving her a chance. Without waiting for an explanation. She had a part to play in this mess, but he did, too. He should have been more patient. He should have listened.

He should have trusted her.

Lise marched into the bedroom, the one they shared, and over to her dressing room. Jerking clothes off the hook, she started to plan.

He was in London. Hannah had emailed her surprise at his arrival. Her shock at his surly behavior. The mention of some tabloid pictures of his activities last night had been hinted at, which had set Lise’s heart pumping. The gentle question as to whether everything was all right had been too much to answer today.

Everything was not all right.

Still, she was not going to let him keep it that way.

He was surly? Just wait until he met her. Slapping her suitcase on the bed, she began to pack.

There would be no divorce. She’d fight him on it.

There would be no other women. She’d tie him to the bed if she had to.

Somehow she’d find a way to make those tiger eyes come alive once more. With passion and heat. With tenderness and concern. With love, damn it.

With love.

And then…

She twisted her hands around the edge of the towel and took in a deep breath. The flash of her ring caused her to glance down. The flash was not of a cool, clear diamond. The flash was of fiery life. A life she was going to grab and hold on to.

Then…she’d confess those three words. Finally.



* * *



The deadness inside him kept expanding.

Minute by slow minute.

First it had clutched and clawed at his broken heart as he’d read the email. Figured out what he’d hoped for was a total illusion. Remembered Lise’s initial reaction to him, reminded himself of the hate he’d thought was gone. Recalled what the true reality was of this marriage of his. Thought of those accusations her mother had spoken. The accusations and labels and damning names Lise had agreed with.