Chapter Seven #2
He was quiet for a moment. “You will have my resources at your disposal, and we will have a life together. I can give you pleasure and company, but I cannot give you love.”
Ann-Sophie ignored the sting of this comment. “Of course.”
“You’re not asking for love?”
She hesitated. Neither of them knew what the future held. A week ago, she hadn’t expected this moment. But right now. Everything was possible.
“I don’t expect love,” she said carefully.
He met her gaze again, studying her, and for a moment it felt as if the wall between them fell away. He found her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “Ann-Sophie, will you marry me?”
For once in her life, she allowed herself to want.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I will marry you.”
The next week flew by in a flurry of plans and paperwork.
The wedding would take place in two weeks, a little after the baby hit the eight-month mark, giving them a little space before the delivery date.
It would be a small affair in the village church, and the only invitees would be Massimo and Catarina, who had insisted on coming, and Ann-Sophie’s mother, if she could make it.
Ann-Sophie looked thoughtful when he suggested it. “But I think she’s away on assignment.”
“I’m sure she’ll come back for your wedding.”
“But it’s such a small thing and the baby is almost here. Maybe I should ask her to come for the birth instead.”
Alessandro found that he didn’t like the way that she so readily made excuses for why her mother didn’t need to be there, but he said nothing.
“If I’m telling my mother, then you should let your parents know, too.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Or maybe you don’t want to invite your parents?”
“It doesn’t matter either way,” he said darkly. “They won’t come. But I’ll have Massimo pass on the message.”
There were documents to prepare and a prenup to sign, one that specified dual residences in Stockholm and Italy. It made generous provisions for her and the baby under a single condition.
“‘As long as the baby is biologically yours?’” she said, reading aloud. Then she looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t even know where to begin with this line.”
This topic was infinitely frustrating, and Alessandro felt the control inside him start to crack. “You would not perform a DNA test. You’re leaving me with no choice.”
“Interesting definition of ‘no choice,’” she said, rolling her eyes.
The fissure lines inside him spread ominously.
“Why are you choosing to dig in your heels about this issue?” he demanded.
Ann-Sophie glanced at the lawyer, standing at the edge of the desk and pretending not to listen, like he was paid to do.
“Because it means you still don’t trust me,” she said softly.
Alessandro swiped a hand over his face, exasperated. “You’re making this more complicated than it has to be. If the baby is mine, then we have no problem.”
“I don’t think this is complicated at all. Either you trust the woman that you are about to marry or you do not.”
The fissure lines inside threatened to break. He had kept his emotions perfectly under control over the last week. She had moved into his bedroom, and they spent their days together, making love at all hours. Everything about this was exactly as it should be. But she wanted more.
“Trust is not easy for me, even under less pressing circumstances,” he said, his jaw tight. “I need this from you.”
“Fine,” she said, turning away, and her voice was cold and distant. “I’ll sign it.”
He stared at her, waiting for the familiar satisfaction in this win.
He had softened Ann-Sophie by giving her pleasure and the emotional vulnerability that was driving him to the brink of his sanity, and he was now reaping the rewards.
His plan was an irrefutable success, and he searched for the familiar rush that success always brought. It didn’t come.
All he could think about was the way she wouldn’t look at him right now. And the chill of her voice, as if he’d ruined everything. As if he was now the bully that he had never wanted to be.
That evening, she was quiet. The moon cast its watchful eye on them, reflecting off the ripples of the pool, as if to reflect every moment of the strain the afternoon had put on them.
As they sipped the last of their evening coffee and ate the last bites of almond cake that Olivia had baked, Ann-Sophie turned to him.
“I realize I gave you a reason not to trust me. It was wrong of me not to tell you for seven months about the pregnancy. But do you really think I would lie about the baby’s paternity?”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t. But a baby does not change me as a person. It does not take away thirty-one years of carefully guarding whom I trust.” This is who I am. It was meant as a warning.
And yet she didn’t take it as one because she smiled, so beautifully and inexplicably. “Alessandro Carandini…changing? Impossible.”
It was the first time she had smiled at him since the papers were signed, and he found himself reveling in it.
“It does sound quite improbable, doesn’t it?” he mused.
She shook her head slowly, but her smile grew, and suddenly everything felt lighter.
Alessandro tipped his head back and looked at the stars that glowed in the night sky.
What would it be like to hold on to this lightness, to share it with Ann-Sophie?
And though he knew he was entering dangerous territory, right now, he wanted for this to be possible. Real.
That was the stuff of dreams. But the two of them were inextricably tied to reality, which he had to focus on.
So he turned to her and gave her his most charming smile. “I would like us to attend an event in a few days in Rome. It will be the official introduction of you as my wife.”
She blinked, as if she hadn’t considered this angle of being the husband of Alessandro Carandini and the mother of a Carandini heir. “What do I have to do?”
“Just be yourself.”
Ann-Sophie gave a charming little snort of laughter. “Why am I getting the feeling it won’t be that simple?”