Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
It was past midnight when Nyra dismissed the two women from the catering staff who had assisted her in the gourmet galley. The chef had barely hidden his laughter, which had begun as contempt for her pitiful attempts, but this was one thing she’d wanted to do by herself. Even if it took her forever.
Finally, the yacht was empty, free of even family.
Adriano was nowhere to be seen though. For just a moment, she wondered if he’d left with the rest of the guests. But he wouldn’t just abandon her. Would he?
She emerged from the galley onto the lower deck and looked past the glass walls that kept out the chilly breeze. In the dark, a new kind of magnificence greeted her, with lights from elegant villas and charming villages shining on the dark waters. The yacht’s sleek exterior gleamed, reflecting the colors of the earlier sunset.
She’d barely had any time to explore the expansive space, busy with the arrangements all morning, then getting ready—which took far too long these days with hair and makeup, and then greeting guests as dusk fell.
Balancing the fine china plate precariously in her hand now, she walked up the spiraling staircase toward the sky lounge. Even after all these months, the reach and flex of Adriano’s wealth was a shock to her. Like the existence of this yacht.
But then, he was a man who was as miserly with personal or family details as he was generous with his caresses. Her toes sank into the thick carpet, while the cold glass scraped against her bare arms in a welcome slide.
She’d kicked off her heels, but the dress was an annoyance. Thanks to the breeze, her hair had long ago won the fight against everything that had been used to tame it. When she’d caught her reflection in the gleaming chrome of the appliances in the galley, she’d grabbed a clip and put it up.
On the main deck, the air was filled with the gentle lapping of waves against the hull, creating a soothing rhythm. If only it could soothe the confusion and worry that dogged her like shadows.
All evening, she’d sensed that Adriano wasn’t pleased with her efforts or the party or anything to do with the evening. Catching fragmented phrases of his conversation with Nigella had only confirmed her suspicion.
Whether it was Nyra’s attempt at the party or something else that displeased him, she had no idea.
After a week of losing herself in this new life that only seemed to have moving targets, all she wanted for tonight was to show him that she was worth the scandal she’d brought on him, worth the drama and pain she’d caused in his life. That she appreciated him.
For a second, the weight of all that she’d taken on threatened to crush her. It felt as impossibly daunting as the dark silhouettes of towering mountains that surrounded the lake. Forget the physical toll of the party today— the socializing and the laughing at inane comments, pretending that she didn’t see the censure in some gazes was mentally exhausting.
But she had made her bed—a very pleasurable one when her husband was in it, and she was determined to make the best of it.
If only she knew how to reach Adriano. Because clearly, whatever she had done today to please him hadn’t remotely had that effect.
No wonder she’d spent months limiting herself to one corner of his life. Her husband was powerful, ruthless, kind and beneath it all, a mystery.
* * *
Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped into the master suite on the top deck, which was forbidden to the guests.
Large panorama windows lined one entire side of the suite, offering sweeping views of the lake and the mountains beyond. Sheer curtains drifted lazily from some cool draft overhead.
The centerpiece of the suite was the lavish king-size bed adorned with sumptuous white linens and an array of plush pillows that looked like a fluffy cloud. A hint of fresh flowers scented the air.
On the other side was a chic sitting area featuring furniture elegantly upholstered in velvet. The lighting, she noticed, was carefully designed to accentuate the suite’s luxury without detracting from the beauty outside.
And here, sitting in the largest armchair nursing a glass of whiskey, was her missing husband.
Nyra slid the plate onto the side table before approaching him. Just being alone with him made her heart skip a beat. She came to stand in front of him, between his legs. “Adriano…” she ventured but he remained unmoving.
Unable to fight the urge, she sank her fingers into his thick hair and tugged.
He looked up then. Thick lashes blinked slowly and his gaze focused on her hair. His fingers gripped the glass tightly as if he were stopping himself.
“You cut your hair,” he said.
She touched the short, wavy locks that were already tumbling out of the hold of the clip. “It’s easier to manage this way.”
“I liked it better when it was long.”
“Oh.” Dismay filled her because she hadn’t given him a single thought. Only that she needed to give herself a makeover, inside out. Something fresh to change how she saw herself. “If you really want me to, I’ll grow it back. But with the pregnancy and everything else, it is easier this way.”
“Bene,” he said, looking down into his drink. When she didn’t budge, he said, “Go to bed, cara .”
“You’re drunk,” she whispered, the shock of it making her frown. She refused to pull away from him however. “You never drink.”
“It’s my birthday, si ? Only a mild buzz.”
“I’ll keep you company, then,” she said, running fingers down the back of his head, past his neck and then farther down to his shoulders. Slipping her fingers in under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, she found warm skin and taut muscles.
He groaned—a sound that went straight to her core—when she kneaded the muscles with firm fingers. His head dipped to rest against her belly. Nyra increased the speed and strength of her movements, dipping lower into his back and coming up again.
The solid planes of his back, the heat of his body hit her bloodstream as if he were an oral drug she was addicted to.
His whiskey tumbler clanked down on the table as his own hands came to grab her hips. He turned up his head, pushing her back a little. His forest-green gaze pinned her to the spot. “I don’t want our children to be raised by a string of nannies and childminders who will, at best, treat them as nothing but a cushy paycheck.”
It was the last thing she expected him to say. Neither was the delivery soft or easy. Some great emotion pulsed beneath each word. Suddenly, his fractious conversation with his mother looked different in her head. To her, it had always seemed like a mild irritation with his parents. But what if it was something deeper?
Damn it, why hadn’t she asked Maria when she’d visited. Though she wasn’t sure if she’d have told Nyra anything without Adriano’s express permission.
“I understand,” she said, swallowing. His shoulders bunched with tension under her fingers, but she refused to give up the anchor. “And I agree with you.”
“Mama said you’re interviewing nannies and a whole team of people for the nursery in the next few weeks.”
“Yes, to help out as I need them. Twin babies are a lot of work, Adriano.”
“And you know this how?” he asked, almost belligerently.
Smiling, she clasped his unshaven cheek. “From all the materials I’ve been reading. The classes I’ve been taking. Of course, modern medicine is amazing but giving birth and the recovery after is still a big deal. More so with multiple births.”
He frowned. “I didn’t know that you’ve been researching all this.”
“What do you think I do with my days?”
He opened his mouth and closed it. No doubt to swallow the swift retort. For once, she wished he had let it rise.
“Anyway, we barely have had any time to talk about what comes after the pregnancy.” She sighed. “Can I please sit down? My feet are killing me.”
Instantly, he moved back and she settled down on the coffee table with a groan she couldn’t catch. While she wasn’t huge yet, her back twinged at the end of a long day.
Dark eyes drank in every nuance in her face. “Give me your feet.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I’m in a beastly mood, cara . It might be a good idea to indulge me, si ?”
“Am I allowed to enquire the reason for this beastly mood?”
“No.”
“Even if I wonder that I’m the cause?”
He glared at her, but his gaze held such greed, such hunger, such naked emotion that Nyra was drenched in it. There was something agonizingly addictive about being the one person who got this less than civilized version of Adriano. The real Adriano. “You’re only partly responsible.”
“That makes me feel much better,” she said, pursing her lips. “I’m desperate to be in your good graces.”
He said nothing, even though that was a supreme effort at flirting on her part.
Holding his gaze, she shifted back on the coffee table. It was quite a feat to raise her feet into his lap without sliding onto the floor in an undignified heap. Really, her center of gravity was a ride these days.
The moment his elegant fingers touched the arch of one foot and pressed, shivers of relief filled her. Leaning back, she threw her head back and let out a soft moan.
God, the man was deliciously clever with his fingers, whether it was her comfort or pleasure that he teased out. Tension released from her as he pressed and kneaded with just the right amount of pressure, giving both her feet equal attention.
And something about his bent head, about the spread of his long fingers on her feet, the utter devotion with which he applied himself to her comfort…unraveled the tight lock she kept on the darkest parts of her past.
“I remember my mother telling us how much fun but hard work Nadia and I were in our early years,” she said after several minutes of simply enjoying his touch. “She used to say I was the easy baby, and that Nadia was a diva even back then. But I think she loved us both the same.”
His head jerked up. “You’ve never mentioned her.”
She shrugged, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. “If possible, I don’t like to think much of the past. This pregnancy and everything that I unleashed…it’s bringing it all back. The good and the bad.”
“I wish you hadn’t. Especially since it rakes up the painful past.”
“It is done, Adriano. And honestly, I don’t regret it. I only feel sorry that I threw Nadia to the wolves too. With me being your wife and constantly in the spotlight, she will be recognized the moment she steps into public. I took the decision out of her hands and, given how fragile she already is…I’m scared of how she might react.” This guilt had been eating away at her nonstop. What if Nadia hated her for this and never wanted to see her again? It wasn’t just her babies that Nyra wanted to be strong for. “I’ve been so selfish—”
“No.” His eyes might as well be daggers pinning her in place. Not that she wanted to get away. Her lips twitched when she realized he was outraged, on her behalf.
“You jeopardized the little security you had with me to look out for her, Nyra.” His words pinged over her skin like little light charges. “If she gets angry, she’ll forgive you.”
“But what if—”
“She is safe, cara , for now. When she is recovered, we will look after her. And we will explain to her that you had no choice. That it is better for both of you this way.”
“You will help me, then?”
“ Si. As long as she gets better.”
That he didn’t shove her worry for her sister aside or give her false reassurances made warmth bloom in her chest.
“What happened to your mother?”
“She overdosed a year after Papa was arrested and we lost everything.”
His fingers crawled up her ankle and rested there, as if she might slip out of his grasp if he didn’t. As if he could sense how hard this was for her. “If you would rather not talk about this, I understand, cara . I do not wish for you to distress yourself.”
While the wary concern in his words for the pregnancy itself—as if it was a separate thing from her—pricked, she knew it was high time she did talk. For the same reason he thought she shouldn’t. “I’ve never talked about them with another person, not once in all these years. It’s as if parts of me have calcified along with the memories. I want to purge this, Adriano. Be whole for them, if possible,” she said, placing one hand on her belly. “For Nadia when she gets better.”
“You’re not responsible for her well-being, Nyra. Your primary concern should be—”
“Is it true that Bruno is your half brother by your father?” she said, annoyed by his tone. When he nodded, she mirrored his action. “Is it also true that you found him as a teenager, beaten up by some street gang, and brought him home with you?”
“Who told you that?”
“He did, this past week. After I probed incessantly.”
“You should come to me with such questions.”
“Yes, but Bruno’s so much more…approachable and available.”
“I’m a jealous man, Nyra.” The rotating whiskey tumbler in his hands caught and reflected shards of golden light onto his face, and the beds of his nails were stark white with how tightly he gripped it. “While I know that neither you nor Bruno see each other that way, such a friendship is…hard for me to bear.”
Nyra realized, with a stuttering heartbeat, that this was Adriano opening up to her. “It is simply a fondness,” she said huskily.
He raised his hand, palm out. “I don’t care what it actually is. Your confidences are mine, bella .”
A part of her bristled at his authoritative tone but something more held her back. This was what she wanted to build, didn’t she? This kind of trust where they could actually verbalize what they expected from the relationship. And really, if the shoe was on the other foot, she would hate for his uptight assistant to have his confidences.
She didn’t want that woman even in the same room as him.
“Okay. I will try to come to you with these questions. Or anything else.”
He held her gaze. “Bruno’s mother was my nanny before Maria. Fabi and Federico, on the other hand, are not my father’s children.”
“Oh,” she said, shocked by this new piece of the puzzle. Suddenly, his reaction to those photos of Nadia with some man, thinking it was her, made even more sense. “I’m… How did they come to be raised as Cavalieris, then?”
“They were eight when my father found out. He threatened to throw them out and disinherit them. Fabi came to me with tears. I had already made some good investments and was beginning to build a reputation for myself in the bank. My father had never been much of a leader anyway, chasing after every woman he came across. A few choice words from me about his debts and he backed off.”
No wonder his relationship with his mother was no better than the one he shared with his father.
“So you’re responsible for looking after all of them?”
“I don’t deserve a medal for protecting two innocents.”
“How do you think I would want to do any less for my twin? For one who wasn’t as fortunate as me? Losing my parents, our house, the little security we had, being tormented as his kids …all of it became a hundred times worse when Nadia and I got separated. I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone.” A shuddering breath left her lips.
One hand clasped her cheek and Nyra pressed into it. The words came easily then, as if they had been waiting all this while to be released. “Mama always had trouble sleeping, and whatever the consequences of Papa’s actions, she told us every day how much she loved us. So I tell myself that the overdose had to be accidental. I was sent to live with a great-aunt in London and Nadia to some distant uncle in the States.”
She sniffled and his fingers tightened on her feet.
“I was twelve and so many things happened back then that all the memories are hazy. But some of the good ones are when Mama would recount stuff about us as babies. All of us would sit together and look at pictures. Usually, Nadia and I ended up giggling in her lap. I wish she were here so I could ask her, you know.” She looked at her fingers, willing herself to come back to the present. “All the literature I’ve been reading says it’s better to have help, even if it’s just an extra pair of hands once in a while. And since I don’t have any family and we do have the resources—”
“You have me,” he said, pulling her leg up and kissing the ankle.
She giggled, even knowing that he’d done it on purpose. Kissing her where she was extremely ticklish to distract her from echoes of the painful past. “The mighty, powerful banker that all of Italy fears will change stinky diapers, sing lullabies and do feeds in the middle of the night?”
“ Si , I will. What else?”
His words were filled with such wonder that her heart stuttered. Words escaped her as she beheld this powerful man eager to know what else parenthood would entail. Would he ever cease to surprise her?
“Nyra?”
“Right. Feeds and burping, walking in the middle of the night to get them to sleep, changing diapers and doing it all over again. I read on some forum that one girl infant would only sleep on her father’s chest.” She patted his broad chest and his soft smile was like a beacon guiding ships into port.
“I would like to have at least one daughter, then,” he said.
Nyra’s heart melted. “And that’s just keeping them healthy and safe. There’s talking to them, singing to them, playing with them, exposing them to the world, bit by bit. Letting them stretch their wings even if it means little hurts but teaching them that we’re here to hold on to.”
“You’re scared?” he said, perceptive to the last.
“Terrified,” she admitted, the spike of fear so real that she shivered. If she thought he would take her into his arms then, she’d have been sorely disappointed.
He was in such a strange mood that she didn’t know what to expect. And it underlined how little she really knew about the deeper, real parts of him, and how much she wanted to know all of him. If only to soothe him in this mood as he did for her.
Like asking her to talk about a good memory with Nadia when the present overwhelmed her.
“Of what?” he said, his eyes flickering between hers.
“Of not doing it right. Of…not being enough, for them.”
Of not being enough for you. That she might wake up one day and be thrown out again by him because he’d discovered that she was nothing to him.
“That you worry about getting it right is proof enough that you will, bella . And if you do get something wrong, you’ll love them enough that it won’t matter.”
“And you know this how?” she said, throwing his question back at him.
“My parents.” No elaboration, nothing.
The two words stood in the small space between them like minor explosives. Ticking away, on and on. Nyra had never been so scared of what she might say that would set them off.
“Adriano—”
“And when you do get something wrong,” he said, cutting her off, “I will be there to tell you that you’re doing it wrong.”
“How predictably arrogant of you,” she said, grinning. She knew those explosives would go off at a later time if she didn’t push it. But she was too greedy, too gone for this easy intimacy that was just as raw as making love.
His smile was a baring of teeth while his gaze drank hers in.
“Wait, I almost forgot,” she said and shot to her feet. Too fast. A sudden dizziness claimed her and she swayed.
Hands on her hips, he steadied her. His eyes were nearly wild with panic, an expression she’d never seen in him. No, it had been the same when he’d declared that their marriage was over in front of everyone.
“That’s twice now you’re swaying on your damned feet,” he said, steadying her. “Do you need a keeper 24/7, cara ?”
“It’s been a long day and I shouldn’t have stood up so fast.” She pressed her forehead into his chest. “I’m fine now. You can let me go.”
He didn’t, for a long while. His heart thundered against her forehead, far too erratic, while his fingers dug a little harder into her shoulders.
Did he know how his rough breaths and rougher touch betrayed him?
Nyra took every little thing he gave her. That his concern was solely for the babies—clearly, he was one of those men who was made to raise a family—couldn’t ruin the moment for her.
After what felt like hours, he released her.
Her legs shook, for a new reason now, as she walked across the lounge. When she brought it back to him and placed it on the coffee table, he stared at it as if it were a suspicious…alien thing. Granted, the chocolate cake did look a little crooked.
When she’d have moved to the opposite side of the table, he held her in place with his hands on her hips. She couldn’t help leaning into him with a sigh.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a chocolate cake. A pathetic-looking one but one all the same.”
“Ahh…I see that now.”
Covering his arms with hers, she pinched his abdomen. Not quite possible when it was a slab of rock though.
“Why have you brought me this sad-looking cake is the question I meant to ask.”
“I baked it. For you. I…wanted to give you something for which I didn’t dip into your own bank account. Five minutes in, the chef tried to discourage me. I think his heart was breaking at my lack of even basic baking skills.”
Behind her, Adriano stilled. Seconds piled on as Nyra waited, her breath hovering somewhere in her throat.
Embarrassment flushed through her as he continued to be silent. “I’m sorry that I don’t have something more…sophisticated. I did start painting something for you but I didn’t have time to finish it.”
Untangling herself from him, she grabbed the plate and looked around for a trash bin when he took it from her, nearly dislodging it from the plate in the process. He held it close to his chest, as if it were precious and regarded her with twinkling eyes. “I see the hungry glint in your eyes, cara . But this is mine.”
She laughed and wished she could snap a pic of him like this to hide away for herself. Blinking back sudden tears and fighting the sweeping rush of something else, she looked around. “I forgot to bring a lighter. I did manage to secure a single candle from the galley.”
He handed her a sleek navy-colored lighter.
Under his curious gaze, Nyra stuck the candle into the cake, which threatened its whole existence a little more, and lit it. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him until he was bending over the table by her side and handed him a knife. “Make a wish, Adriano.”
And when he blew out the candle, she sang for him. Out of tune and at a very bad pitch. Then she fed him a bite of the cake.
His eyes widened. “How deceptively like you, cara . It tastes like heaven. Grazie mille for my birthday celebration, wife.”
Nyra stared at him as he grabbed the knife and cut another piece of the now crumbling cake, a sudden lightness to his movements. All week, she’d been desperate to make him happy, to show him that she was committed to them.
But instead of the grand party and the transformation she’d forced on herself and all the hundred new things she was learning to be, the pathetic cake had done it.
When he brought the piece of cake to her mouth, the moist chocolate exploded on her tongue. When he bent down to lick a crumb from her mouth, sweeping molten heat through her, she stole a kiss from him.
And when he pulled her close and dragged his mouth up her jaw to her temple and pressed a soft kiss there, she did the thing she promised herself she would never do again.
She fell in love with him, just a little. But this time, it was with the real man. Not the billionaire who had offered her protection and escape from a lonely, horrible life all those months ago. Or even the man who had promised to never doubt her again.
But this man, with his authoritative demands that belied his aching touches, with his soft confessions about what he wanted from her, this man who always strove to do the right thing…
She was falling in love with the real Adriano and she didn’t know how to stop it. Because that way lay expectations, and she’d been burned too many times already.