Catherine Spencer - Convenient Brides

“I’m very honored that you’d share it with me,” Callie said thickly, hearing the sudden desolation in the child’s voice, and desperately wanting to comfort her. But she knew well enough that Gina wouldn’t welcome a display of affection she hadn’t initiated herself.

“You won’t tell anyone else, will you, Zia Caroline?”

“No,” she promised. “Nor will I ever come here unless you invite me.”

Sighing, Gina wandered deeper into the grotto. “Mommy and I used to light candles sometimes,” she said, suddenly despondent. “Up there, see, in those little glass jars. Then we’d sit on cushions we brought from the house, and talk about private things that boys and fathers don’t understand. But I don’t think the candles would be a good idea today.”

“No,” Callie said softly. “That’s something special that belonged just to you and your mommy. Also, we don’t want to give ourselves away, and there’s enough light filtering through from outside that we can see quite well.”

In fact, in the dim green light and with the vine swinging gently in the breeze, sending waves of shadow rippling over the sandy floor, the effect was a little like being in an underwater cave.

Suddenly Gina tipped her head to one side, listening intently, then pressed a finger to her lips, her mood brightening. “I can hear them coming,” she whispered. “Let’s hide at the very back. We can sit on the rocks.”

It was darker there, and much cooler. Enough that Callie shivered and wished she’d worn a jacket over her light sweater. Gina must have felt the chill, too, because without waiting to be invited, she curled up close beside her.

Callie held her breath, ever so casually draped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, and braced herself for a rejection that never came. Instead, to her indescribable pleasure, Gina snuggled closer and said, “You feel nice and warm, Zia…just the way Mommy used to.”

Approaching footsteps ruled out the possibility of a verbal reply, and just as well. The aching lump in her throat would have prevented Callie from doing more than choke on any attempt at a response. Instead, she acknowledged the enormous compliment by tucking Gina more securely in the curve of her arm.

“They couldn’t have come this far,” Paolo said, from immediately outside the entrance to the cave. An inch closer, and he’d have stepped past the vine and found them. “There’s nothing here but a path to the beach, and we’d see them if they’d gone there.”

“Gina often comes this way. I’ve watched her, and even followed her once, but I lost her. Sometimes, she’s almost too smart for me,” Clemente said, an admission that left Gina snorting on a giggle.

Paolo cleared his throat, rather loudly, Callie thought. “We’d better double back, then. They might have run behind the hedge and are already waiting at the gate. If they’re not, we’ll look in the atrium. There are all kinds of places they could hide in there.”

Their voices faded as they hiked back toward the villa. “Boys are so easy to fool,” Gina crowed, once silence descended again. “They’re not a bit like us, are they, Zia Caroline?”

“No,” she said, tearful emotion still swirling dangerously close to the surface. To hold her daughter like this, to share confidences, and private jokes, were gifts beyond price, and she wouldn’t have traded them for all the riches in the world. “Should we make a run for the gate now, do you think?”

Gina shook her head. “I quite like just sitting here with you,” she said shyly, and just like that added the touch of perfection to an already extraordinary day.

Later, over predinner drinks, Paolo cornered Callie, and under cover of the general buzz of conversation, murmured, “Did you enjoy hiding out with your niece in the grotto?”

She laughed, taken aback. “You guessed we were there?”

“Of course I guessed! Even if I didn’t know this island like the back of my hand, I’d have been hard-pressed not to hear the tittering filtering through that convenient screen of shrubbery.”

“Then why didn’t you call us on it?”

Warming her to the core with his slow smile, he said, “The two of you seemed to be bonding. I decided it was best not to disturb you.”

Flustered at the way his gaze lingered on her, she averted her eyes and said, “You do that rather often lately, you know. Your parents will begin to notice.”

“Do what?”

“Smile at me, look at me, as if we’re up to something wicked.”

“But we are, Caroline. We’re secretly engaged.”

“The way you’re behaving, it won’t be a secret much longer.”

She wasn’t exaggerating. He frequently locked glances with her—across the dinner table, or while they were taking morning coffee with his parents in the solarium, or during an evening game of chess between him and his father—and the look in his eyes, the curve of his mouth, would send the heat rushing to her face. They were the smiles, the glances, a lover bestowed on his lady—the kind that said he couldn’t wait to undress her.

And it seemed that he couldn’t. Every night without fail, after the rest of the household slept, he’d come to her. She’d lie in her bed, her body naked beneath the sheet and trembling with expectation. The door would open, and she’d see his silhouette outlined briefly against the night light shining in the upstairs hall before he stepped, silent as a shadow, into the room. A second later, the lock would snick softly in place, and he’d cross to the bed.

She’d rise up on the mattress to meet him, and they’d come together in a flurry of eager hands, and hungry lips, and labored breathing. He’d kiss her all over, bring her to orgasm with his finger, his tongue. Then, while she was still shimmering with ecstasy and he was thick and heavy with desire, he’d plunge inside her, and rock so urgently that she sometimes wondered how the condom he always used didn’t split apart.

Oh, yes! Regardless of whatever else might occur during the day, she could always count on the nights!

“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” he suggested, catching her as she finished lunch, toward the end of the second week. “We need to talk.”

Overhearing, the twins chimed in. “Us, too, Zio Paolo?”

“Not this time,” he said. “What I have to say to Caroline is private for now, but I promise to share the secret with you soon. In any case, you have to spend the afternoon catching up on your studies, otherwise when you go back to class, you’ll find yourselves behind your school friends.”

The minute they were out of earshot of the villa, Caroline asked, “Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” he said, curbing a grin at the anxiety printed all over her face. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, the other day—about my parents figuring out what we’re up to—and you’re right. I don’t seem able to stay out of your bed, and sooner or later, I’m going to get caught. Quite apart from the indignity of such an occurrence, I resent having to sneak around like a teenager.”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

He clasped her hand and helped her over the low wall separating the gardens from the beach. “Announce our engagement and make it official.”

Her fingers tightened around his. “Do you think the children are ready to hear it?”

“I think there’s only one way to find out.”

She chewed the corner of her mouth uneasily. “What about your parents?”

“I don’t consider their reaction to be particularly relevant, cara. We did not reach this decision lightly, and hardly need their blessing.”

“It would be nice to have it, though,” she said wistfully. “It’s been a long time since I really felt part of a family.”