The baby gurgled with laughter and her eyes lit with an inner glow. The same glow she'd seen in Dante's eyes when he gazed across the table at her last night, before she opened her mouth and said something stupid.
"Don't worry," her friend said from across the table. "You'll have one soon. One of your very own."
An ache burst in the center of her chest. She didn't glance across at her friend. Dani would certainly catch the painful confusion lancing through her system, if not in her eyes, then in her expression. "Isabella is going to be a looker," she managed.
Her mother laughed. "I've told Carlo he better be prepared to guard the door in a few years. He told me with my over-protective older brother around, he had no doubt his daughter would be well-taken care of."
Lara risked a glance, filled with wry recognition. "Talk about over-protective. Your brother insists on having a bodyguard go everywhere with me."
Daniella chuckled. "You get used to it."
"It's ridiculous."
"My oldest brother doesn't think so." Her friend's tone was matter-of-fact. "He knows best."
A ripple of annoyance went through her. "He doesn't always know best."
A dark brow rose, a female replica of Dante's. "I detect a bit of-"
"Never mind," she said, trying to steer clear of any pointed questions. "I just find it annoying having people following me all the time."
"I don't even notice it anymore." Bouncing her son on her knees, Dani smiled. "Frankly, with the babies now, I like it. You'll feel differently when you have children. You'll see."
Again the punch of confusion and pain.
A shock of realization followed.
The bolt rammed away the pain, filling her body with a deep awareness.
She wanted Dante's child.
Staring at the baby in her arms, she slowly let the knowledge seep into her soul. She wanted his child in her arms. She wanted to hold a little boy with his eyes. A little girl with his dark curls.
What happened to the intense anger she'd held inside her mere weeks ago? What happened to her feelings of rage at being forced into something she wanted nothing to do with? Scrambling through her thoughts and emotions, she found none of it, none of the anger or rage. How could she possibly have forgiven him?
"I better get going before the babies start to fuss even more." Daniella stood and began to load the large buggy by her side. "Time for their nap."
Lara helped put the kids into the seats, all the while her mind buzzing in a hundred directions. "Take care." She hugged her friend goodbye.
"We'll do this again soon," Dani smiled with a determined glint in her eye. "Next time without the twin terrors."
She trundled off, the twins waving their hands in the air.
Slumping in her chair, Lara gazed down into her half-empty cappuccino. The swirl of questions in her mind found no answers in the swirl of cream in the coffee. At least, no answers she wanted to confront. She needed some space, some freedom. If she could walk away from everything for a while, then surely, she would find some resolution.
Wouldn't she?
Staring through the restaurant window, she watched as Daniella bundled her children into a limo identical to hers. Watched as she greeted Lara's driver and bodyguard, who waited patiently for her to come out and get into her car-exactly as her husband had instructed her to do earlier today.
A simmer of the old rebellion bubbled up. Maybe she did want his child now, but still, he was dictatorial and demanding. His attitude brought back the old emotions and frustrations she'd experienced with Gerry. The echo of her past seemed inevitably tied to her current marriage. The whole thing frustrated her. This wasn't right, she knew it, yet she couldn't seem to stop the old feelings from welling inside her.
And yes, it rubbed her raw that she was sliding under his spell, enough to forgive him for what was, truly, unforgivable. Gerry had forced her to do many things, but at least he'd never forced her into marriage.
Dante's baby.
The slice of need stopped her cold. Thinking, feeling, was getting her nowhere. Standing with an abrupt jerk, she grabbed her purse and headed for the bathrooms at the rear of the restaurant. She splashed some cool water on her face before staring into the mirror.
Forgive him.
No, she couldn't. She needed to stand up for herself, needed to assert her continued independence in some way. She would renew that prescription. She would win this battle for her freedom. She would remember what he'd done to her.
Her stare blanked at the thought of winning.
Would it be winning to be free from him forever? Would it be winning to never have his child? Would she be happy if she won this war?
No. She wouldn't.
Turning away from the knowledge in her eyes, she stormed from the bathroom and bumped into an elderly man.
"Scusi," she murmured, her gaze lingering on him as he trundled down the hall to the men's lavatory.
Another door at the end of the hallway caught her attention.
A wild hare of a thought crossed her mind. Before she could think it through, she found herself walking down the hall and pushing the door open.
Bright sunlight and loud laughter greeted her. The back door led to the alley. Three waiters stood on the brick pavement, sharing stories and cigarettes. She stepped out into the sun.
Into freedom.
She'd only take an hour. Just an hour of freedom from the turmoil inside her. Once she was away, she'd call her driver and let him know. He'd argue, but what could he do if she was already gone?
Glancing up the alley, she spotted a familiar limo parked at the curb. Quickly, she strode the other way, waving at the waiters' laughing jests as she passed. If she could get around the corner, she'd be out of sight and away from her husband's surveillance. At least, for a while.
Within minutes, she'd lost herself in the quirky stalls and colorful workshops that filled the central market area. Breathing in deeply, she caught the tang of leather from the nearby shoe store mixed with the sweet smell of rising dough from the pastry shop she passed. She risked a glance back and let out a relieved sigh. They weren't following.
For the first time in weeks, she was free.
Dante was going to be mad if he ever heard of this.
He probably wouldn't find out. And so what if he did?
She was an adult. A functioning, fully capable adult.
This was her time to break free and enjoy. Striding through the market, she admired a glistening row of gold rings, and then walked through a tiny bookstore overflowing with a magical assortment of old and new texts. Within fifteen minutes, she'd managed to walk away from the swirl of shops, and headed toward a place that was a favorite haunt of hers before she'd married. The small rose garden park was only a short walk from her school, and she hadn't visited it since coming home from her honeymoon. Neither Dante nor his bodyguards would know of this peaceful place and how important it was to her.
Indulging herself, she bought some gelato and settled on a stone bench situated in the middle of the garden. A soft wind wafted the scent of the roses around her, as she dipped into the icy curls of arrabiato. Savoring the spicy chocolate, she closed her eyes and tried to still her mind from anything except enjoying the soothing surroundings and the rich taste of cream on her tongue.
The distraction didn't help. Sighing, she gave herself permission to look at what was right in front of her, beating in her heart.
Okay. She wanted to stay with her husband. She wanted to make this marriage work. And she wanted his children. All of those realizations were a bit hard to stomach, but she could do it. Why reject what she really wanted? She could do the pragmatic thing and accept the reality of her feelings. Her desires.
No problem.
Lara finished the last of the gelato and tossed the plastic dish and spoon into the trash. Settling back on the bench, she watched a pair of pigeons flirt and dance around the boughs of a large oak tree.
This was a problem.
Because she hadn't confronted one last feeling overwhelming all the others.
She loved Dante.
She loved him.
She sucked in her stomach and then slowly let it out, letting the last feeling slip into her heart and soul. She loved him. She loved his rare smile, his deep laugh, his dry humor. She loved his body and how he made her body feel. She loved his old-fashioned gallantry, even when it sometimes annoyed her. She loved his intelligence, pride, and honor.
That was why she would finally accept the consequences: the need for his baby, the desire for his lovemaking, the wish to make this marriage mean what it should have meant all along.