Secret Baby, Second Chance. Jane Godman

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      “I can’t believe you just said that.” She rolled her eyes.

      He laughed. “Nor can I. The shock must have gone to my head.”

      “Okay.” She had never thought of Vincente Delaney as an angel in disguise—the thought caused her to smile inwardly, since she had occasionally thought of him as a devil in disguise—but there had to be a first time for everything.

      “All Lia’s toys are in the box over there. There is pasta in the fridge for her lunch and she likes banana after it. She’ll drink plain water from her own special cup. Oh, and her diapers and wipes are in this bag.”

      Vincente’s calm deserted him slightly at those words. “I can come and get you if we have a diaper situation, right? That’s something I’m going to need to do under supervision the first time.” First time? The words had a confidence about them that unsettled her.

      “Wake me if there’s a problem.”

      She went to the door, turning back to look at him as he bent to talk to Lia. Although seeing Vincente here had tilted her world off course, the effect he was exerting over her pulse was not entirely due to the shock. He always did have the power to knock her sideways with his presence. Even though she had spent a lot of time over the last sixteen months dwelling on her memories of him, she had underestimated his magnetism.

      What was she thinking? Every rational thought screamed at her to get him out of here. She had broken all her ties with Stillwater for a reason. A dangerous, life-threatening reason. Leaving had hurt more than she’d believed possible. Leaving Vincente? That had been its own kind of hell. She’d never known if they’d last forever. The longest they’d ever managed was a few months. Not because they didn’t care. We cared too much. That had always been their problem. Everything between them was too much. Too passionate. Too intense. Too raw. Too hungry. It was like they burned each other up whenever they were together. But Beth had never imagined being with anyone else. Had never imagined her life without Vincente in it, even if it was only in their own, unique, on-off, tempestuous way. Until the letter and the photographs. They had changed everything.

      “Get some sleep, Beth.” Vincente’s dark eyes seemed to read her thoughts. “Then we’ll talk some more.”

      Just this one time, she told herself sternly, and only because I’m so tired. Then we’ll talk some more.

      Those words had an ominous ring to them.

      * * *

      Vincente’s mind wanted to dwell on the shock to his system. He was struggling to know what to feel, although anger was making a strong case for being his most powerful emotion. How could Beth keep something like this from him? If Lia was eleven months old, that meant Beth had to have been four months pregnant when she left Stillwater. Vincente thought back to the roller-coaster ride that was their relationship. Yes, four months before Beth left, they’d been right in the middle of one of the most intense “on” times of their on-off periods. Soon after, they’d split up following a fight over something or other. He couldn’t recall the reason, but he did remember Beth calling him arrogant and conceited before she slammed out the door.

      Anger continued to bubble deep inside him, as hot and destructive as lava. It churned and boiled, desperate for release, and he knew there was a real danger of becoming too much for him to handle. He wanted to find a release. Slam his hand down on a table, kick a door, shout at the person responsible...

      Four months and she didn’t tell me? She came to my apartment the night she left Stillwater and she didn’t mention that she was carrying my child? She left me sleeping and walked out of my life, prepared for me to never know about this person who shares my DNA?

      He couldn’t reconcile those thoughts with the Beth he knew. They’d always been honest with each other. From the moment they got together that first time they’d known what they had was different. Unique. Mind-blowing. But Beth had always known the truth about Vincente. He couldn’t commit to a normal relationship. Hearts, flowers and promises of forever weren’t for him. It didn’t take much soul-searching to find the reasons why.

      Even within his own family, Vincente had always felt like an outsider. The only unpredictable thing his rancher father ever did was fall in love with a beautiful Italian socialite. When Kane Delaney brought Giovanna Alberti home to Stillwater, she had batted her long eyelashes at him and declared that Wyoming was too boring to be her home. By the time Vincente was born, the marriage was in its death throes.

      Even their son’s name had been a cause for disagreement. Giovanna had wanted a full-on Italian name, while Kane had held out for something more American. In the end, they had compromised. Instead of the Italian “Vicente” or the American “Vincent,” they had named him “Vincente.” It was a metaphor for his life. With a foot in each world, he belonged in neither.

      The ink was barely dry on the divorce papers before Vincente’s mother had reverted to her maiden name and returned to Florence. Although he saw her occasionally, her aristocratic world might as well have been a million miles away from his Stillwater home.

      Vincente knew Beth wasn’t like his mother. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that she would walk out on him and break his heart the way Giovanna had done to Kane. No, he was more afraid that he would be the one to hurt her. All he knew for sure was, however much he wanted Beth—and Vincente had never wanted anything in his life as much as he’d wanted Beth—there was something missing in his psyche. Call it the Alberti gene. We don’t do long-term. His mother was on her fifth marriage. He was not going to put Beth through the same sort of torture.

      And Beth had understood. She had always accepted him for what he was. Their relationship hadn’t been one-sided. It hadn’t been about her trying to get a ring on her finger and him resisting. It had always just been them. Doing it their own way.

      Of course, a baby would have changed things. How? He couldn’t answer that because the knowledge that Lia even existed had only just hit him. Had Beth run out on him because she thought he wouldn’t be able to cope with the commitment? A wave of shame washed over him at the thought. She must have known him better than that. Surely, she must. If she thought he would leave her to cope with their child on her own, then she hadn’t known him at all.

      That brought another emotion to sit alongside the anger. As he looked down at Lia’s perfect features, he felt an overwhelming sadness.

      He hadn’t wanted a child. If anyone had asked him why, he’d have said he’d be the world’s worst dad. He was selfish, impatient, untidy, and he didn’t like responsibility. Also, no sleep, no free time, no social life? No, thank you.

      Now, he was in shock as his feelings on the subject had sharply reversed. Because how could he not want this beautiful little being? And how much of her life had he already missed? He hadn’t been there when she was born. Hadn’t heard that first cry or seen her first smile. She was crawling, pulling herself upright and making noises. Some of them almost sounded like words. She had a personality all her own...quite a strong one from what he’d seen so far. She looks like me. This little person has been growing up without me. The mingled feelings of joy and loss tugged at something deep within him.

      Other than telling her Giovanna had left when he was a baby, he’d never talked to Beth about his mother, but she must have known there was a twisted branch in the Delaney family tree. It didn’t take much imagination to work out that Giovanna’s abandonment was at the root of Vincente’s issues. The loss of a parent had impacted his whole life. Yet Beth had repeated the pattern with Lia?

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