Latin Lovers: Hot-Blooded Sicilians: Valentino's Love-Child / The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal / Sicilian Millionaire, Bought Bride. Catherine Spencer

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      The fact that Tino was doing so, even if only on a subconscious level, gave her hope.

      “No doubt.”

      “It isn’t easy for any of us.” “What do you mean?” he asked, edgy again. Or still. He hadn’t relaxed since she came out of the bathroom. “Letting go.”

      “I have nothing to let go of.”

      She didn’t argue. There would be no point. And it would only make him more determined to prove himself right. He had enough to overcome in moving forward, without adding another dose of his stubborn will to the mix.

      “I’ll see you when your parents return from Naples.” Valentino swore and slammed his hand down beside the statue Faith had admired. His wife letting him go? He did not think so.

      Maura would be in his heart forever. He had promised.

      The memory was as visceral today as it had been an hour after it happened.

      His beautiful young wife had started off not feeling well that morning. He’d had the temerity to hope it meant she was pregnant again.

      But that had not been the case.

      Ignorant of the tragedy to come, he’d flown out of country for a business meeting in Greece with hope in his heart of increasing his family. He remembered that while his wife’s body betrayed her and she slipped further away from him, he had spent the day smiling more than usual, feeling on top of the world. And then his world had come crashing down.

      His meeting had been a success, opening the doors for the major expansion of the Grisafi family interests. He would exchange that success and all that had come later for one more lucid day with the mother of his son.

      Valentino’s mother had called him just before he boarded the jet for home. Papa had taken Maura to the hospital because she had passed out walking up the stairs. By the time Valentino had reached the hospital, his wife was in a coma.

      Petrified for the first time in his life, sweating through his expensive shirt, he’d rushed into the room. Maura had been so damn pale and completely motionless. He’d taken her lifeless hand, his heart ceasing at its coolness. He had begged her to wake up, to speak to him, to squeeze his hand—anything.

      But nothing. Not then. Not later. No fluttering eyelids. No half-formed words. No goodbyes. Absolutely nothing.

      The only sounds had come from him—his desperate pleas and constant talking until his voice was no more than a horse whisper in hopes of sparking a connection to her shut-down brain—and from the machines hooked up to her. Machines and medications that had been unsuccessful at saving her life.

      Her first discernable diabetic attack had been her last. Nothing the doctors did brought her blood sugars under control and she died without coming out of the coma.

      He’d spent every minute with her, but it had done no good. And when she’d gone into cardiac arrest, the doctors had called security to force him from the room. He’d been in another country when she fell into the coma and out in the hall when she let go of life.

      The doctors said her reaction to the disease was extremely rare. But not rare enough, was it? His wife, the mother of his child was dead and nothing would ever change that.

      He would never forget the rage, the grief and the utter helplessness he felt holding his small son in his arms as they said goodbye to her. He had promised then, standing over her grave, holding their sobbing son who just wanted his mama. Valentino had promised he would never stop loving her, that he would never replace her in his heart.

      Valentino Grisafi had never broken a promise and he wasn’t about to start now.

      This thing with Faith had to get back on track, or it had to end.

      There simply was no other option. No matter what he might want or think he needed.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      TRUE to his word, Faith did not see Tino again while Agata and Rocco were in Naples. There were no more phone calls, either.

      She didn’t expect there to be.

      Tino wasn’t going to accept the change in their relationship gracefully. If he accepted it at all. She had to believe he would though.

      Especially after allowing him to make love to her that night. Not that she’d had a lot of choice. Once he set his course on seduction, she was a goner. She loved him. Needed him. While that truth scared her to death, she didn’t try to deny it. Self-deception was not something she indulged in. She’d accepted the physical intimacy because it substituted for the emotional connection she craved after learning she carried his baby. And sometimes, when he made love to her, she actually felt loved by him—if only for that short while.

      It was that simple. And that complicated.

      But maybe it was on the way to something better. something truly more.

      He had initiated the shift in their relationship in the first place. Initially, sleeping all night with her in his apartment in Marsala, and then making love to her in his family home. That reality mitigated her fears for their future, although it did not completely rid her of them.

      He might not want to admit it, but he was already thinking about her in broader terms than simply his “current convenient partner.” They’d been exclusive from the very beginning—something they had both insisted on. Add that to how well she fit with his family and their friendship and they had a strong basis for a lasting relationship. The fact that she loved him would only make it easier to raise a family with him.

      Even if he never came to love her as he’d loved Maura, it would be enough to be his wife and mother of his children. She had never expected to have this much claim to family again. She certainly did not expect it all.

      Not after everything she had lost.

      Besides, she’d never loved Taylish like she loved Tino, but he’d been happy in their marriage. Content to have her loving commitment if not her passion.

      There were times she knew he had wanted more, but he’d never regretted their marriage. Only leaving it in death. He’d told her so, just before breathing his last.

      But she didn’t want to remember that day. It belonged in her past—along with the two families she’d lost. The only real families she’d ever had. Until now.

      Her current hopes and dreams were reflected in the series of joy-filled family centric sculptures she did over the next week.

      Agata called her when the older couple returned from the continent. Faith did not tell her about having dinner with Tino and Giosue, leaving that bit of information for them to reveal. She also avoided having Agata come to her studio the following week. She did not want Tino’s mother to see the revealing pieces of art before Faith had a chance to tell him of his impending fatherhood.

      Every day that went by and she did not hear from him, she missed him more. She wanted to share the miracle of her pregnancy with him, but it was important to give him space. He had to come to terms on his own with the new parameters of their relationship.

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