Modern Romance October 2019 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

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      She would say it at the end of every breath if she could.

      Oh, when would these feelings end? she asked of herself, and foolishly looked him up on the computer.

      Nico’s world had clearly carried on very nicely without her. The woman with him just last month was blonde and pretty and petite. Then there was a beautiful redhead, who seemed to be getting him through the Christmas festivities.

       Nico.

      Louanna put the children to bed, and when she came down she gave Aurora a gentle talking-to.

      ‘Do you know who the father is?’

      She had asked before and Aurora had been evasive.

      ‘Yes.’ She was too tired to lie, but she would not name him. ‘And I believe he would support me and would insist that we marry.’ She looked over to Louanna. ‘But I would rather be alone than live in an unhappy marriage.’

      Louanna started to cry.

      They spoke for a long while, and then Aurora headed down to her little summerhouse.

      Deep in the night she lay restless and unable to sleep. She tossed and turned, and then got up and paced when it dawned on her that the ache in her back was not perhaps just from being heavily pregnant.

      Aurora headed into the main house and made a drink. She looked out at the cold, pink morning sky and admitted to herself the very real reason she had not contacted Nico.

      He might marry her, but he would never love her.

      She would be his Silibri wife.

      His mountain wife.

      Living in the hills and tucked away.

      Made love to when he returned to survey his grand hotel and then put on hold when he returned to Rome.

      Or Florence.

      Or England or France.

      She wasn’t sophisticated enough to hold his arm and smile serenely as he conversed. Neither was she calm enough to stand holding the baby and wave him off with a smile. Nor was she discreet enough to turn a blind eye to his philandering ways.

      And there would be philandering ways, Aurora was quite sure of that.

      She had no experience, save for Nico. No tricks to keep him amused. Just her.

      And being almost nine months pregnant, and already rejected as his bride, wasn’t a brilliant combination to inspire confidence.

      Aurora would not be able to stand being a small part of his life—to live in the background. She was pure Sicilian and lava ran in her veins. She burnt at the thought of Nico with someone else—and, no, she would not stand back in dignified silence.

      She moaned in horror at the thought of it.

      ‘Aurora?’ Louanna stood at the kitchen door. ‘Are you okay?’

      ‘No…’

      She was scared and she was pregnant and she loved Nico so much that it hurt.

       It hurt.

      ‘I can’t do this,’ she admitted.

      ‘You are doing this, Aurora,’ Louanna said. ‘Your baby is on its way.’

      Aurora had changed her mind. ‘I’m not ready.’

      But the baby was.

      She was in labour—without the man she had loved all her life by her side.

      That was the hard truth, wrung from her soul as she bore down and gritted her teeth and knew she would rather be alone that accept his crumbs.

      No matter if those crumbs might be solid gold and would provide for her baby and keep her in style.

      ‘I hate him!’ she shouted as she gripped her thighs in the delivery suite and bore down.

      ‘Stop shouting and push,’ the doctor said.

      But Aurora ignored medical advice and carried on with her rant. ‘He wants his freedom—he can have it!’ she declared loudly. ‘I’ll survive better without him.’

      Aurora did not pick up on the midwife’s smile, but she got her support.

      ‘Yes, you will! Come on, Aurora—use that anger to push!’

      She was furious, and it felt so good to be angry as she pushed her baby out. ‘I’ve got this,’ she declared.

      ‘You have, Aurora,’ the midwife said. ‘Come on—another big push.’

      She was raging, and fury gave her strength, and she pushed with all her might…

      And then fury left as love came rushing in—the purest love as she glimpsed her son.

      He was long, and he had a lot of thick black hair, and huge navy eyes, and a dent in his chin as if an angel had stamped it there. His huge mouth let out husky and indignant cries.

      She reached out for him with a love so fierce it pierced her soul. For the baby was the perfect blend of her and Nico. She laughed as she kissed him, for after one look not a person in her family or in the village would need to ask who his father was.

      ‘He’s beautiful!’ she cried. ‘He’s perfect. My baby!’

      Her baby—and also a real tiny person, who cried and seemed soothed when she held him. His eyes seemed to recognise her, for he held her gaze and fell quiet.

      She had never fathomed that love for her son would be so immediate and so intense.

      He was worth all the pain and fear and Aurora knew she could take care of him.

      Louanna and the children came to visit her on the ward.

      ‘Oh, Aurora…’ Louanna said as she held the tiny little boy. ‘He is perfection. Have you thought of a name?’

      ‘Gabriel,’ Aurora said. ‘God-given strength.’

      ‘Have you told your family?’

      ‘Not yet.’ They could wait.

      ‘What about—?’

      ‘I just want to get used to being a mother,’ Aurora cut in. ‘I want some time with my baby and to know what I’m doing. I want my confidence back.’

      And Gabriel brought extra blessings! A little post-partum haemorrhage on the day Aurora was due to go home meant a trip to the operating theatre and staying in hospital for a few extra days.

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