Bella Rosa Marriages: The Bridesmaid's Secret. Fiona Harper

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СКАЧАТЬ relationships light, his ties loose.

      How ironic. He could have had it all along. He could have been the man in the morning suit looking captivated by his fresh-faced bride. He could have been the one looking forward to seeing his child born, to rocking her when she cried and, when she was older, scaring the monsters away from under her bed. But now, when he realised how much he wanted those things, those moments were gone, never to be salvaged. They’d been stolen from him by the woman steadying herself against the grotto wall with wide-spread hands, looking as much like an out-of-her-depth teenager as he’d ever seen her.

      The sight drew no pity from him. He wouldn’t allow it. Instead he looked away.

      Marry her? Have a Happy Ever After with her? Right at this moment it was the last thing he wanted to do. In fact if he never saw her again he’d be ecstatic. But that wasn’t an option. She was his sole link to his daughter. A daughter he could still hardly believe existed.

      He spoke without looking at Jackie. ‘What’s her name?’

      ‘Kate,’ she said blandly.

      Kate. Very English. Probably not what he would have chosen, given the chance. But he hadn’t been given the chance—that was the point. He wanted to shout, to punch, to…do something to rid himself of this horrible assault of feelings. Normally he could bat negative things away, dissolve them with a joke or distract himself—usually with something female and pretty—but this just wouldn’t go away and he didn’t know how to handle it.

      Facts. Stick to facts.

      ‘Kate,’ he echoed. ‘Short for Katharine?’

      She didn’t answer. He let out a rough sigh. How could she still be playing games with him after what she’d revealed? How did she have the gall to make him work for the answers?

      Because she’s Jackie. She sets tests. You have to prove yourself to her over and over and even then she’ll never believe you.

      He swivelled round and looked her in the eyes, knowing that the lava inside was bubbling hard, even though he was desperately trying to keep a lid on it. Instead he let its heat radiate in his stare, let it insist upon an answer.

      She swallowed. ‘I suppose so. I’m not sure.’

      Was a straight yes or no so hard to come by? Suddenly, it was all too much for him. He couldn’t do this now. He needed time to think, to breathe. One more of her cryptic answers and he was going to lose it completely.

      ‘Fine. If that’s the way you want to play it, I’ll go.’

      She looked shocked at that. He didn’t care why.

      ‘But don’t think you’ve heard the end of this,’he added. ‘You owe me more.And you can start paying tomorrow with answers. Facts. Details. Call them what you want, but I will have them.’

      Jackie got over her surprise and pushed herself away from the wall of her grotto with her hands so she was standing straight. She fixed him with that flesh-melting stare he remembered so well. He refused to acknowledge the ripple of heat that passed over him in response.

      ‘Don’t you dare act all high and mighty about this, Signor Puccini! You and I both know you weren’t ready for fidelity and commitment back then.’

      That lid he’d been trying to keep tightly on? It popped.

      But he was aware Lizzie and Jack might well still be within earshot and he didn’t have the luxury of using the volume he would have liked to. He did the next best thing and dropped his voice to a rasping whisper.

      ‘You have no right to judge me. No right at all. You don’t know what I would have done, how I might have reacted. Who do you think you are?’

      Jackie marched out of the grotto and for a moment he thought she was going to leave him standing there, all his anger unspent, but she got halfway up the garden and then turned back and strode towards him.

      Of course. She always had to have the last word. Well, let her. It still wouldn’t make what she’d done right.

      ‘Who do I think I am? I’ll tell you who I think I am!’ Her face twisted into something resembling a smile. ‘I’m the poor, pathetic girl who waited at the farmhouse all afternoon for you, scared out of her wits, feeling alone and overwhelmed.’

      She wasn’t making any sense.

      ‘You know I didn’t get your letter,’ he said. ‘You can’t blame that on me.’

      She took her time before she answered, her eyes narrowing, faint glimmer of victory glittering there. ‘I saw you, Romano, that afternoon.’

      Saw him? What was she talking about? He’d thought the whole point had been that he hadn’t turned up.

      ‘When I finally gave up waiting, I walked back up the track towards the main road, and that was when I saw you.’ She waited for him to guess the significance of her statement, but all he could do was shrug. ‘I saw you drive past on your Vespa with…her. With Francesca Gambardi!’

      Ah.

      He’d forgotten about that.

      So that was the afternoon he’d finally given in to Francesca’s pestering, had agreed to take her out on his bella moto, as she’d called it, because he’d hoped her presence would make him forget the crater Jackie had left behind when he’d finally got the message she’d wanted nothing more to do with him.

      It hadn’t been one of his finest moments. Or one of his best ideas.

      And it hadn’t worked. Francesca hadn’t been enough of a distraction. Every time she’d looked at him, every time she’d brushed up against him, he’d only been plagued by the feeling that everything had been all wrong, that it should have been Jackie with her arms around his waist as they whipped through the countryside, that it should have been Jackie sidling up to him as they’d stopped to look at a pretty view. In the end, he’d taken Francesca home without so much as a kiss. A first for him in those days.

      Jackie was way off base, thinking he’d had something going with Francesca, but he remembered how insecure, how jealous she’d been of the other girl, and he knew how it must have looked to her. But if she’d only asked, only would have deigned to talk to him, she would have known the truth. He’d acted foolishly, yes, but she hadn’t behaved with any more maturity.

      ‘And that was why you didn’t bother telling me you were carrying my child? Because you saw me with another girl on the back of my Vespa? Jackie, that’s a pathetic excuse.’

      The smug look evaporated and she looked as if she’d been slapped across the face with the truth of his statement. Her jaw tensed. It didn’t take her long to regroup and counter-attack.

      ‘But I thought you’d read my letter, remember? I thought you knew I was pregnant, that I was waiting for you to discuss our future. And when you rode past the farmhouse—our special place—with that girl pressing herself up against you…well, it sent a message loud and clear.’

      Okay, things might not be as black and white as he’d thought.

      It was all so complicated, so hard to keep track of who knew СКАЧАТЬ