‘I’m sorry for what you had to go through to have her,’ he admitted. ‘If I’d had any idea, I would never have let you take that risk.’
She shrugged. ‘It was a fluke, the doctors said. One in a million chance. Sheer dumb luck it happened to me.’
But it had happened to her. And it had made him realise…
‘So have you decided on a name?’
‘I have. And Rosa agrees with me. I decided she should have her mothers’ names.’
Angie nodded tightly. For the last six months she’d lived under the shadow of that name, but it was the right thing to do. ‘It’s a pretty name.’
‘I thought so. And it suits her. Angela Carla Pirelli. I was hoping you’d like it.’
She looked up at him, aghast. ‘Angela? But you said—’
He kissed her fingertips. ‘I said her mothers’ names. Plural. You and Carla.’
Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘But I have no right—’
And he smiled, or it looked almost like a smile—a smile that tugged at the fragile shreds of her heart that remained intact. ‘You have more right than anyone to claim this child for your own. What a laboratory created with part of Carla and me was a mere possibility, nothing more than the chance of a child. But it was you who turned that dream into a reality, you who turned that chance into a flesh and blood baby. You made this child’s life possible.’
‘But—’
‘Don’t you understand? She is your child, Angelina, your baby. You have more rights to this child than anyone. You are her mother.’
Angie pressed her lips together, trying to quell the tears, though there was no way she could stem them all.
‘You’re crying,’ he said. ‘Did I say something wrong?’
‘No. You said everything right.’ She sniffed. ‘In that case, do you think I could see my baby?’
And he smiled and pressed the call button. ‘I’d like that.’
Within moments she arrived, swaddled in a fresh pink blanket. From where she lay, Angie could just see the black hair and one tiny hand sticking out under the chin. ‘I’ve brought you a bottle too, Mr Pirelli,’ the midwife said, ‘in case you’d like to feed her.’
From the bed came a small mewling cry. They looked around.
‘Do you think…?’ Angelina asked. ‘Is it possible…Is there any chance I might be able to feed her?’
‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘Are you up to it?’ the midwife asked, and Angie sniffed and nodded.
‘I’d really like to try.’
Minutes later they had her raised and pillowed for protection. It seemed a mammoth effort for such a tiny creature but, when the midwife placed her on her pillowed lap, it was all worth it. She looked down at this infant, this baby she’d harboured inside her body for nearly nine months, this miracle child, and fell instantly and irrevocably in love. ‘Hello, Angela Carla Pirelli,’ she said as a tiny hand wrapped around her finger and her heartstrings at the same time. ‘You’re one very lucky little girl. You’ve got two mothers—the one who made you so very beautiful, and me.’
The midwife sniffled and swiped at her eyes, becoming brusque and businesslike. ‘Let’s get you organised then, shall we?’ She showed Angie how to get the baby to latch on. Angie was a quick learner. The baby was even quicker and soon she was contentedly suckling.
Beautiful, Dominic thought as he watched mother and child together. Truly beautiful.
‘This is the woman,’ he whispered in awed reverence when the midwife had departed and the baby had fallen asleep, ‘who never wanted a child. Look at you. You’re a natural. What happened?’
She shrugged, and smiled down at the baby in her arms, lifted her and drank in her magical new baby scent. ‘I didn’t want a baby. At least, not with Shayne. I know that now. I was happy when I found out it wasn’t his. And then I was afraid to get attached to this little one because I knew I would be leaving. I couldn’t afford to love it, even though, as it grew and as I felt it move inside, I couldn’t help but feel a connection.’ She sighed, a slow sad smile emerging. ‘I tried to fight it. I tried to keep my distance because I knew I’d end up hurt. But it was impossible.’
‘Marry me.’
She blinked and looked up at his brusque demand. ‘What did you say?’
‘Marry me, Angelina. Become my wife.’
She shook her head. She was dreaming, the painkillers affecting her brain. ‘Don’t think you have to marry me. You don’t have to try to make up for what happened. It was an accident.’