Chapter 9
IT SHOULDN’T HAVE MEANT anything, that the full wardrobe of clothing he’d offered her hadn’t been bought with his rotating-door of women in mind, but it did.
She would only admit that to herself, and much later that day, when she’d sought out a small reprieve from the effort it took to be near Raf and act as though she was unaffected by his presence.
When the opposite was true. Everything about him scattered her and made her body gush with warmth and heat.
But that revelation had brought possibly the biggest burst of warmth, because it was yet another demonstration of how close knit his family was. Big, and full of love—exactly as she’d always wanted.
Careful, an inner voice warned. He wasn’t offering her a place in the family, and she should know better than to want it.
She couldn’t let history repeat itself and be so carelessly trusting as she’d been with Aaron.
She’d bought into their situation, hook, line, and sinker, spending time with his parents as much as she had her own, thinking of his sister as one of her closest friends.
And then, when the writing had been on the wall with her relationship with Aaron, that closeness had completely evaporated, showing her how false it all was.
She’d been so quick to believe in that, too. As an only child, she’d wanted the big, happy extended family. It had all been a part of the illusion she’d sacrificed everything for.
If the only positive to come out of her breakup with Aaron was Elodie’s commitment to a more solitary life, then so be it. She would no longer believe in fairy tales and happily ever afters. Not when she had so much evidence to the contrary.
The day was warm, and after swimming with Raf and then sharing lunch on the terrace, Elodie was sapped of energy.
She was surprised by how easily conversation had flown between them over lunch.
He knew a lot about the area and spent most of the time answering her questions about the history of the villa, the crops grown in the surrounding fields.
He’d asked her questions, too, about her childhood, her work before the breakup.
Things that were easy to answer, particularly after the honesty of her confession earlier.
Knowing that he knew about Aaron was somehow like having a weight lifted from her chest. Aaron had been so important to her, it had seemed strange to be having a baby with a man who didn’t know about her breakup—it was a huge part of her life, after all.
But it was only as she drifted off into an afternoon nap that she realized she had started that whole conversation by asking him about his marriage.
At his obvious reluctance, she’d offered to go first, sharing the whole sordid history as a way of helping them understand one another better.
Ah well, she thought, rolling onto her side with a yawn that seemed dredged from the depths of her soul. They had agreed to share dinner on the terrace. She’d ask him again then, she thought, as she fell fast and hard asleep.
The call to Gianni and Maria was harder to make than the Zoom call that morning. His aunt and uncle were romantics at heart. They’d even tolerated and welcomed Marcia into their homes, because they’d believed she made him happy.
So, to break it to them that he was expecting a baby with a woman he barely knew took every ounce of his conviction. The alternative, though, was to lie to them. To pretend he and Elodie were more than this. To pretend that he had feelings for her.
And he couldn’t—wouldn’t—lie to his family.
It wouldn’t be fair to them, or Elodie. So, he presented the information in a businesslike tone, aware that it was miles away from the reality they’d have wanted for him.
He sat on a chair on the terrace, watching as a small army of staff set the table for tonight’s dinner.
Their lunch had been a casual platter, thrown together from what was in the fridge, but for this evening, he’d asked his housekeeper Fiona to arrange everything.
He needed the night to go smoothly. If he had one month to win Elodie over and show her that they could co-parent this child, he intended to launch a full charm offensive.
He intended to make it impossible for her to say no.
Even when she’d shown she had the ability to deny him, no matter what.
“Darling, this cannot be so,” Maria sounded cautious. “You’ve told us, dozens of times, that you will never have children.”
“This was clearly not planned,” he repeated.
Gianni’s voice chimed in. “I presume you are being careful.”
“It’s a little late for that,” Raf muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. Then, with a flush of guilt, and concern that Elodie might have heard, he glanced around, expelling a breath of relief to see he was alone, save for the staff lighting candles and arranging flowers.
“I mean financially.”
Raf’s spine straightened.
“A woman has appeared, out of the blue, claiming to be pregnant with your child—,”
“It is my child,” Raf interjected. “I have made sure of it.”
“Results can be faked, darling,” Maria said gently.
“Believe me, if you knew her, you’d know that’s the last thing Elodie would do.
” He was surprised by the tone of his conviction, by the passion of his defense.
And how firmly it resonated with him. A little over twenty-four hours earlier, he’d been the one accusing her of not knowing the paternity of their baby. And now? He believed her unfailingly.
Which made him a first-rate fool, he thought. Because he’d believed Marcia, too, and she’d lied to him again and again.
“Nonetheless, your fortune is vulnerable.”
“You know as well as I do I have a series of trusts in place to protect my assets. Elodie will not receive a single cent that I do not offer.”
Again, guilt and disgust curdled through him, but he looked around, sure he couldn’t be so unlucky as to have had her overhear him twice.
He glanced around the terrace and felt his heart fall to the ground at the sight of Elodie, just ten feet or so away, wearing a dress that clung to her curves like a second skin and made his entire body leap with blatant, undeniable desire.
But the stricken look on her face showed she had indeed heard his impatient declaration. What were the goddamn chances?
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, disconnecting the call before either his aunt or uncle could say anything.
She looked so damn beautiful, with her hair loose around her face and her body supple and smooth. He reached her before she could hide the hurt from her eyes, before she could arrange her features into a mask of impartial disinterest.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes; his gut twisted.
“I’m starting to think I should wear a cow bell around this place,” she muttered. “So, you know when I’m approaching and can not say this kind of thing in my earshot.”
It was a good-natured comment—an attempt at a joke.
He supposed he should be grateful for it.
But all he could think was that he’d hurt her, and she didn’t deserve that.
In every single way, Elodie’s behaviour had been beyond reproach.
From deciding to tell him about the baby from the moment she’d found out, to not leading with a request for money, to agreeing to come to Italy to get to know him better.
She had been mature, reasonable, and responsible, and yet his entire family was seeing her as Marcia version two-point-oh.
He couldn’t blame them. He knew they were just looking out for him.
But she didn’t know that, and that was the most important detail.
“Listen, Elodie,” he said, but she shook her head quickly, holding up a slightly trembling hand to forestall whatever he was about to say.
“It’s fine.” Her voice was brittle, sounding anything but. “We just met, Raf. You don’t have to like me, and nor does your family. I get how it must seem. You’re worth a fortune; I guess being tricked into parenthood for money is plausible.”
But her quick acceptance of that, the hurt in her voice, made a thousand emotions riot inside of him.
For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself.
The man he’d been before Marcia. He felt a strong connection to the past, to the core of his being, and he did not want to be the reason she was upset.
It made sense. She was pregnant with his baby—and that wasn’t her fault.
It wasn’t, he supposed, strictly speaking his fault either.
Yet he was the one who’d invited her home.
He was the one who slept around like it meant nothing.
Despite taking the precautions he took, for Raf, this was a somewhat plausible consequence of how he lived, whereas for Elodie, this was totally unexpected.
“Elodie, listen to me,” he said again, this time, with more urgency. “You need to understand something…”
She shook her head though. “Please, don’t,” she groaned.
“I have spent the better part of a decade being lied to, being manipulated, having my instincts overridden. Don’t ask me to be that person again.
I’ve heard what I’ve heard, and it’s okay.
I’d always prefer honesty to whatever this is,” she gestured to the table, that suddenly seemed like an exercise in ridiculousness.
What had he thought? That she’d see a candlelit table, a pool area flooded with white roses, and let her guard down completely?
Agree to step into the future as co-parents, because he’d asked his housekeeper to make the night special?
Anger flicked through him, completely self-directed.
“I know we have to get to know each other,” she said, stiffly. “But I think we should stick to something more formal. Like business meetings, or whatever. Maybe even with a mediator.”