Even within his own family, Vincente had always felt like an outsider. The only unpredictable thing his rancher father ever did was fall in love with a beautiful Italian socialite. When Kane Delaney brought Giovanna Alberti home to Stillwater, she had batted her long eyelashes at him and declared that Wyoming was too boring to be her home. By the time Vincente was born, the marriage was in its death throes.
Even their son’s name had been a cause for disagreement. Giovanna had wanted a full-on Italian name, while Kane had held out for something more American. In the end, they had compromised. Instead of the Italian “Vicente” or the American “Vincent,” they had named him “Vincente.” It was a metaphor for his life. With a foot in each world, he belonged in neither.
The ink was barely dry on the divorce papers before Vincente’s mother had reverted to her maiden name and returned to Florence. Although he saw her occasionally, her aristocratic world might as well have been a million miles away from his Stillwater home.
Vincente knew Beth wasn’t like his mother. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that she would walk out on him and break his heart the way Giovanna had done to Kane. No, he was more afraid that he would be the one to hurt her. All he knew for sure was, however much he wanted Beth—and Vincente had never wanted anything in his life as much as he’d wanted Beth—there was something missing in his psyche. Call it the Alberti gene. We don’t do long-term. His mother was on her fifth marriage. He was not going to put Beth through the same sort of torture.
And Beth had understood. She had always accepted him for what he was. Their relationship hadn’t been one-sided. It hadn’t been about her trying to get a ring on her finger and him resisting. It had always just been them. Doing it their own way.
Of course, a baby would have changed things. How? He couldn’t answer that because the knowledge that Lia even existed had only just hit him. Had Beth run out on him because she thought he wouldn’t be able to cope with the commitment? A wave of shame washed over him at the thought. She must have known him better than that. Surely, she must. If she thought he would leave her to cope with their child on her own, then she hadn’t known him at all.
That brought another emotion to sit alongside the anger. As he looked down at Lia’s perfect features, he felt an overwhelming sadness.
He hadn’t wanted a child. If anyone had asked him why, he’d have said he’d be the world’s worst dad. He was selfish, impatient, untidy, and he didn’t like responsibility. Also, no sleep, no free time, no social life? No, thank you.
Now, he was in shock as his feelings on the subject had sharply reversed. Because how could he not want this beautiful little being? And how much of her life had he already missed? He hadn’t been there when she was born. Hadn’t heard that first cry or seen her first smile. She was crawling, pulling herself upright and making noises. Some of them almost sounded like words. She had a personality all her own...quite a strong one from what he’d seen so far. She looks like me. This little person has been growing up without me. The mingled feelings of joy and loss tugged at something deep within him.
Other than telling her Giovanna had left when he was a baby, he’d never talked to Beth about his mother, but she must have known there was a twisted branch in the Delaney family tree. It didn’t take much imagination to work out that Giovanna’s abandonment was at the root of Vincente’s issues. The loss of a parent had impacted his whole life. Yet Beth had repeated the pattern with Lia?
He wanted to storm and rage at Beth for what she’d done, but he also needed to find out why she’d done it. This was Beth. Beth, to whom he had been closer than any other person in his whole life. There had to be a reason why she had deprived him of almost a year of his daughter’s life. He had to get this right, for all they’d once been to each other, but also for the innocent child who was caught up in the middle of this.
The innocent child who was sliding from his knee with a purposeful glint in her eye. Vincente had never realized it was possible to move so fast at a crawl. Before he knew it, she had reached a vase of flowers and toppled it onto the floor. As he stooped to pick them up, she launched herself at the dog, grabbing him by the tail. Melon let out a yowl and ran for the door. That was the moment when Vincente decided it was probably a good idea to postpone the soul-searching and concentrate on the babysitting.
As he watched Lia and tried to keep up with her, some of the negative emotion coursing through him melted away. It was replaced by a new warmth as he felt an immediate connection to his daughter.
She was his. As well as the physical similarities, he could see other traits they had in common. When he tried to take something from her, a militant light entered her eye and she thrust out her chin, mirroring his own stubbornness. As he sat with her and tried to help her stack her blocks, she brushed his hand away, determined to try it for herself.
Although he’d been consumed by rage and shock as he’d crossed the threshold of this house, he’d resolved to do his duty. He had a child and he would take care of her. What he hadn’t expected was this rush of pure joy he felt every time he looked at her.
Lia might look like him, but her smile was all Beth...or the Beth he’d once known.
He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Beth he was worried about her. Physically, she had barely changed, but there were other differences that became more apparent the longer he was with her. She was wound as tight as a coiled spring, tension apparent in every part of her slender body. The way she held herself taut as though poised for flight, the tilt of her head as if she was listening for a subtle sound and the way those glorious denim-blue eyes refused to settle on one thing. He had thought at first it was because she was unable to make eye contact with him. Gradually, he realized her gaze was constantly moving, checking her territory, seeking reassurance that everything was normal.
She was exhausted. That had been apparent the moment he set eyes on her. And he had used it to his advantage. By offering to look after Lia while she got some rest, he supposed he had been manipulative, but wasn’t he entitled to be devious in the circumstances? He had just come face-to-face with the daughter he didn’t know he had. And he hadn’t been entirely underhanded. Although, after the initial shock had worn off, his first emotion had been simmering rage, he could sense Beth’s turmoil. Offering to look after Lia while she got some rest served a number of purposes. He got the chance to spend precious time with his daughter—a tiny fraction of the eleven months I’ve lost—Beth could recoup some of her strength for what promised to be the ordeal of the conversation they needed to have and Vincente could catch his breath.
He suspected he and Laurie were the only visitors this house had seen in a long time. Lia was immaculately dressed, but, like Beth herself, the house was clean without being exactly cared for. It was far from being a hovel, but her nervousness, together with the way she fussed around, picking up toys and plucking at the stain on her shirt, drew his attention to the details. She was clearly focused on appearances and finding them lacking. What had happened to the happy, sociable woman he’d known in Stillwater? Yes, Beth had a baby now, but would that turn her into a recluse? He didn’t know enough about these things. Maybe it would.
But what worried him more than anything was the feeling he got that all this was about more than being protective of her child. No, it wasn’t a feeling. He knew her too well. It was a certainty. Beth was scared. More than scared. She was terrified.
* * *
Beth woke abruptly with a rising sense of panic. She was fully dressed, lying on top of the bedclothes. How could she be asleep during the day? What about Lia? Gradually, the events of the morning came back to her and she heaved a sigh of relief. The sensation of contentment soon dissipated when she realized what she had done. I left Lia with Vincente. Today might be the day I actually took leave of my senses. She sat up abruptly. After sixteen months in hiding, she had not only opened her door to the man she had decided never to see again, she had blithely handed her daughter over to him.
Our daughter, she reminded herself. Lia would be safe with Vincente; there was no question about that. The problem was, now Vincente knew he had a daughter, there could be no going back. He would want to be involved