Chapter Eight
In the early hours of the next day, Tore wakened to the sound of a baby crying and he slid out of bed at speed and switched off the monitor. Violet lay fast asleep, bluish shadows like bruises below her eyes revealing just how tired she still was.
Belle was teething and not having an easy time of it.
Tore was convinced that he could handle the situation on his own but he intended to talk Violet into hiring a proper nanny when they returned to London.
An extra pair of hands would be welcome, if Violet would just accept that help.
Violet only allowed Stella to assist her during the day because Violet believed that she should be her daughter’s main support at night.
But on this particular night, Violet was exhausted.
The champagne and dancing had taken it out of her, not to mention the activities that had followed.
Tore, a quick learner under Stella’s teaching at breakfast time, changed Belle’s nappy and lifted her.
With a muffled little sob, she buried her face under his chin and he sat down to use the teething gel on her sore gums. Afterwards, she slumped against him, still emitting the occasional stray whimper.
He smoothed her back, marvelling at how little and delicate she was, and she sighed heavily.
After a while all the tension drained out of her small body and she slept, splayed like a starfish over his chest. He intended to get up and put her back in her cot but he decided to give her a few more minutes to settle safely into slumber.
Violet woke with a start, checked the time and panicked.
Belle should’ve woken up and she reached for the monitor, taken aback to discover that it had been switched off, something she never did.
Grabbing a wrap, she pelted down the corridor to the nursery and stared in shock at the sight of Tore lying fast asleep on the recliner with her daughter draped over him.
Yes, she had to admit it, he was a much better father figure than she would ever have dreamt and yet, she would never have asked him to step up to that role.
After all, she couldn’t forget that their marriage was only a short-term arrangement.
In three years, Tore would be gone, gone, gone and poor little Belle would have to learn to get by without him.
And of course, Tore was a source of fascination for the little girl because prior to Violet’s marriage, Belle had lived in an all-female world.
For a stolen moment, she surveyed the two of them.
Tore was bare chested and clad only in a pair of plaid pyjama pants, his tousled silvery hair glinting in the early light filtering in round the edges of the curtains, black lashes lying like fans above his high cheekbones.
The epitome of masculine beauty and animal sensuality, he looked delectable, sin personified in human flesh and he tempted her like no other man.
She would never forget the wild passion that had sealed them together like magnets the night before.
They had raced up to their bedroom, ripped each other out of their clothes and come together like starving animals let loose on a long-awaited feast. And the pleasure had been indescribable and so intense that even now in recollection her body quickened and her breathing roughened.
She snatched in a breath, struggling to stave off the sheer physicality of the memory.
She had never dreamt of experiencing that kind of enjoyment with a man.
Her expectations of intimacy had been much more prosaic.
Her expectations had not extended to a force of nature like Tore, who had absolutely no inhibitions.
Hearing steps in the corridor beyond, Violet reached down to grasp Belle, who let go of Tore with a sleepy little sound of complaint. His lashes lifted, revealing his pure green gaze, and he blinked in bemusement.
‘You fell asleep with Belle,’ Violet clarified as he sat up, all rippling lean muscle and still-drowsy male.
‘I need a shower to wake up,’ he muttered, vaulting upright just as Stella came into the nursery and hovered uncertainly by the door when she saw both of them there.
‘Belle woke up during the night and Tore took care of her without waking me.’
‘You need more sleep,’ Tore interposed drily. ‘You could go back to bed now.’
Stella held her arms out for Belle. ‘I’ll get Belle dressed. Signora Renzetti said she might drop in for breakfast.’
‘She probably will. Belle is the closest she has ever come to having a great-grandchild and she adores babies,’ Tore told Violet. ‘I suspect you won’t get near your daughter for the rest of the day.’
‘I’d be delighted if your grandmother took an interest in her,’ Violet admitted, walking back to their room, thinking that her mother had been unable to spend much time with her adopted granddaughter.
While the older woman remained vulnerable to infection, Violet had had to keep her parent and her child apart.
‘You slept in the diamonds,’ Tore noted, stepping behind her to unclasp the jewellery still at her throat.
‘And in my makeup,’ Violet groaned in a scandalised undertone of guilt as she took a reluctant glance at her reflection in a mirror, wincing over her messy mop of hair and her raccoon eyes smeared with shadow. ‘I fell asleep. You should’ve woken me up.’
‘It was my fault you were so tired,’ Tore pointed out, stepping out of the pyjama pants to stalk naked and bronzed into the bathroom.
‘You should never switch the baby monitor off,’ she reproved from the doorway.
‘She would’ve woken you up and all she needed was a little attention. I wanted you to have an unbroken night of rest. You deserve it.’
When she considered how many orgasms he’d given her, she reckoned that she had deserved it no more than he but then, Tore seemed to thrive beautifully on fewer hours of sleep than she did.
Forewarned of Matilde’s likely visit, Violet picked what she deemed to be suitable clothing before she went for a shower.
Tore’s grandparents might as well have been his parents.
As they seemed kind and friendly in spite of the peculiar circumstances of Tore’s marriage to a stranger, she was keen to act her part.
A tailored pair of shorts teamed with a silk T-shirt struck her as smart but appropriate for most activities.
By the time she got down to the dining room, Belle was settled on Matilde’s lap getting cuddled while Aldo was juggling condiments in an effort to lure her on to his lap.
Their obvious interest in Belle and acceptance of her warmed Violet’s heart.
She munched on a delicious cinnamon roll and enjoyed a rare breakfast freed of her daughter’s demands.
After the meal, their departing house guests said their goodbyes and Tore went off to the office suite with his grandfather.
Matilde wasted no time in suggesting a walk along the beach. Tucking Belle into her all-terrain stroller, Violet was happy to join her.
‘First, tell me how Belle ended up with you,’ the elegant older woman asked curiously.
‘I met her mother, Isabel, at school. We went on a pastry chef course together and we were very close. She grew up in foster care. She had one living relative, an elderly uncle who didn’t feel able to give a little girl a suitable home.
He visited her, though, and he owned a bakery.
After completing her training, she went to work for him.
I found work at a hotel. Her uncle died only weeks later from a heart attack and Isabel inherited his bakery and the apartment above it.
I gave up my hotel job and went to work with her instead,’ Violet related, enjoying the warm sea breeze on her skin because she could feel the heat of the day slowly building on her back.
‘That must’ve been fun.’
‘Yes, it was an exhilarating time. The bakery was very old-fashioned and Isabel was keen to renovate it. She fell in love with the builder who came to do the work,’ Violet explained.
‘They were married within the year and soon afterwards, Isabel conceived. Belle wasn’t a planned baby.
They had intended to wait for a few years but once she was on the way, they came round to the idea and got very excited… ’
‘And then something went wrong,’ Matilde guessed as Violet’s voice trailed off into silence.
‘Two days after Belle was born, Isabel and Stefan’s car was hit by a drunk driver.
They had gone out to pick up her pram and had left Belle with me,’ Violet explained tightly, her eyes stinging at the memory of receiving that tragic news.
‘Afterwards, I was most shocked that she had had the foresight to write a will and leave the business and her daughter to my care if anything happened to them.’
‘A huge responsibility for a young woman of your age to take on.’
‘It was. Initially, I was doing it for Isabel’s sake but looking after Belle, I began to love her as if she was my own child. I have no regrets.’
‘You’re quite mature for your age,’ Matilde remarked.
‘Tore’s been very good with her,’ Violet shared. ‘He wasn’t expecting me to arrive with a child as I’m sure you know, but he came round to the idea surprisingly quickly.’
‘My grandson is not as hard as he likes people to believe. He did have a tough upbringing and it taught him to distrust people, which is unfortunate. He spends too much time working, not enough time relaxing. I think you and Belle could be exactly what he needs,’ Matilde informed her.
‘Hopefully, we will be for the next three years,’ Violet replied, dropping in the timely reminder that she was well aware that there was an end date to their fake marriage.
‘That was the most amazing birthday cake last night,’ Tore’s grandmother responded, stepping neatly away from the previous controversial topic of conversation. ‘And your cinnamon rolls are to die for!’