‘Alice,’ he said softly, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him and putting the bag and her coat down on the floor to take her into his arms. ‘I’m so sorry. If I’d known I would never have suggested going there. Come on, you need to sit down.’
‘Did you bring my coat?’
‘Yes. And I brought our food. Renzo put it in boxes for me.’
‘I can’t—’
‘You can. You must. You need carbs, cara. Trust me, I grew up surrounded by pregnant women and I know what works.’
He left her on the sofa, arms wrapped round her slender frame and looking miserable and strangely afraid, and he headed down the hall towards what had to be the kitchen. He’d never seen her anything but confident, so why was she afraid? Afraid of what? Of him, his reaction? Of being pregnant? Of having a child? Maybe he’d misread it. Maybe she was just unhappy about it. She didn’t looked exactly thrilled. And what was it that may not even—what? It was the last thing she’d said before she’d run out, and it was playing on his mind.
May not even be his?
He found bowls, glasses, forks, and headed back, setting the food and water down on the coffee table.
‘Come on. Try it, please. Just a little.’
She tasted it suspiciously, refilled the fork and took another cautious mouthful, then another, and he felt a wash of relief.
He picked up his own fork and joined her, but the unanswered question was still there and he had to force himself to eat.
* * *
‘Better?’
She was, surprisingly. At least the nausea was. The humiliation was another matter. ‘Yes. Thank you. And I’m so sorry about the restaurant.’
‘No, I’m sorry—’
‘Why? You didn’t know. I should have thought about it, suggested somewhere else. Here, maybe.’
‘Well, we’re here now, and we have a baby to talk about. I’m still trying to get my head around that and I guess you are, too. Unless it’s not mine?’
She stared at him, horrified that he could think that. ‘Of course it’s yours!’
‘Is it? Because in the restaurant you said, “it may not even—” and then you broke off. What was it, Alice? May not even be mine? Is that what you were going to say?’
‘No. Not that. It can only be yours, Marco. There hasn’t been anyone else for years. Please believe me. I would never do that to you—to anyone.’
His eyes searched hers, and then he nodded slowly, just once, and she looked away, the tenderness in his eyes unnerving because whatever happened, whatever he said next, she was sure it would just be out of guilt and pity and she didn’t want that, so she cut him off before he could start.
‘I was going to say it may not even happen. It’s very early days, I could lose it.’
A tiny frown flitted through his eyes. ‘That’s not likely. Many more pregnancies end in a baby than a miscarriage.’
Not necessarily in her case. But she wasn’t ready to tell him anything so personal about herself. Not now. Maybe never, because she’d seen what that did to a relationship and she never wanted to see that expression on anyone’s face again.
Disgust. Revulsion. And a rapid retraction of his proposal. And she hadn’t dated anyone since—
‘Alice?’
No. She wouldn’t tell him. She sucked in a breath and met his eyes. ‘Sorry. I’m just a pessimist. I can’t believe it’s happened. I never thought I’d ever be pregnant, especially not right after landing the job of my dreams, so I know it seems wrong but you’ll have to forgive me for not being ecstatic about it. To be honest, I have no idea how I feel. I’m still getting over the shock.’
He gave a soft laugh. ‘It wasn’t exactly in my plans, either, but a baby’s a baby, Alice. They’re pretty harmless. I should know, I’m the oldest of eight, and I spent half my childhood changing nappies and pushing prams around the vineyards with a trail of small people following after me. There were times when I felt like a cross between the Pied Piper and Mary Poppins.’
That made her smile. ‘I didn’t realise you had such a large family. You’ve never talked about them before.’
‘I don’t. I love them, of course I do, but I don’t see them very often. I disappointed them a long time ago—I was engaged to a lovely girl from a good family, and I couldn’t give her what she needed, which was to stay at home near her family and have babies, rather than follow me around from one strange place to another while I did my rotations in England, so I ended it for both our sakes because I felt we were in love with the idea rather than each other. And then my family accused me of leading her on and breaking her heart because I’d been so selfish and uncaring and put myself first as usual, so I don’t go back unless I have to. And I have to, in three weeks, because my little sister’s getting married and I need to be there.’
‘That’s the long weekend you booked off?’
‘Yes.’ He was looking at her thoughtfully suddenly, and then he said, ‘I told them I’d be bringing someone, mostly to defuse my mother’s matchmaking efforts because despite the fiasco she still wants to see me married to someone she considers suitable, and a wedding is the perfect matchmaking opportunity, so I need a plus one or she’ll be a nightmare. Why don’t you come with me? It’ll be fun.’
That shocked her. ‘To your sister’s wedding? I don’t know any of them.’
‘I know, but you need to, because they’ll be a part of our child’s life—’
‘Why? And there is no child yet.’
He frowned. ‘Why? Because they’re my family, Alice, and they’ll want to be part of their grandchild’s life.’
‘Marco, they haven’t got a grandchild yet! There’s nothing to tell them. They don’t need to know about the baby. Not for ages, maybe never if it goes wrong—’
‘No, they don’t. I agree. At this stage I’d rather they didn’t. But it might help you get to know more about me if you met them, and anyway it’s beautiful there. It’ll be cool, but it’s the end of the olive harvest and it’ll be a huge celebration. My parents do seriously good weddings. And it’ll give us time away from work to get to know each other. And whatever happens between us I think that’s important, if we’re having a child together.’
Having a child together? That sounded weird. So out of left field that she could hardly get her head round it.
‘Can I think about it? This is all a bit sudden.’
‘Yes, of course. If you decide not to come, I can always make an excuse. So—that’s my family. What about yours?’
She relaxed a fraction. ‘Oh, I have three brothers. I’m number three in the family, but we’re all close together in age and we love each other to bits. One’s a doctor, one’s a vet, the other one a dentist. We’re pretty competitive.’
‘Are you winning?’
She laughed. ‘Sort of. The vet and the dentist have their own practices, but the doctor’s a mere specialist registrar at the moment, so, yes, I’m winning as far as the doctors go but I would say we’re pretty equal. Except they’re all married with children, but at least it takes the heat off me,’ she said rashly without filtering her words, but he pounced on it.
‘Why aren’t you married?’
She blinked. ‘Why aren’t you?’
‘Because it’s not on my agenda, which I think was part of the reason it went wrong before. I’d just