Читать книгу Miracle Christmas - Shirley Jump - Страница 14

LUCA woke the next morning to the sound of Rilla retching. He sat bolt upright as he looked at the clock. Six a.m. He was out of bed and striding to the bathroom before any other coherent thought had formed.

She was kneeling on the cold tiles, her forehead on the toilet seat. ‘Rilla!’

‘Go away,’ she groaned as another urge to vomit took hold and she dry-retched into the bowl.

Luca knelt beside her, feeling helpless, and rubbed the small of her back. He lifted a strand of hair that had fallen forward and tucked it behind her ear. He murmured soothing words in Italian to her as she continued to be sick.

Rilla heard them through her primal noises and even though she had no idea what they meant, the low rumble of his voice was so comforting she just wanted to crawl onto his lap and feel his arms around her.

God, she felt awful!

It was another few minutes before the nausea released her from its grip and she felt hot tears well in her eyes and track down her face as she sat back on her haunches. She couldn’t have stemmed them had her life depended on it. Great. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Luca had to witness her vomiting, now he was being treated to a fit of self-pity.

‘Hush,’ he crooned softly as he rose to wet a washcloth and then gently wipe her blotchy face.

Rilla felt the reviving effects of the cool cloth instantly and her sobs soon died to the odd hiccoughy breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, almost falling into his soft velvet gaze.

‘Hey, it’s OK,’ Luca whispered, and drew her head onto his shoulder while he continued to rub her back.

Rilla became conscious then of what he was wearing. Or rather what he wasn’t wearing. He had on a pair of boxers and that was it. Her head lay against his bare shoulder and she had a bird’s-eye view of his magnificent chest and flat abs. His powerful thighs thrust out before him were a pleasure to look at and she knew what lay beneath those boxers was just as enticing.

‘Finished?’ Luca asked.

Rilla’s gaze pulled away from his crotch guiltily, before she realised he was asking her if she was done with the toilet. Her heart slammed in her chest and she felt like her entire body was bounding to its beat. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

‘Come on, then,’ Luca said, helping her to her feet. ‘Go back to bed. I’ll bring you something to eat.’

‘Oh, no, Luca, I’m not sure I can eat anything,’ she protested as she leaned heavily against him.

‘Hey,’ Luca said looking down at her. ‘Tea and dry toast. Pregnant women swear by it.’

Rilla saw the look of determination in his gaze and was mesmerised by the old Luca she saw there. The one she’d fallen in love with. Before he’d withdrawn. Before the distance.

She nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it? And if it helped the morning sickness, she was willing to give anything a go.

Rilla crawled into bed and shut her eyes, letting the glorious ecstasy of feeling normal swamp her. She was still a bit shaky but the nausea was gone.

‘Here you are,’ Luca announced ten minutes later.

Rilla opened her eyes to find him bearing a tray. He’d put a shirt on, for which she was both pleased and perversely disappointed. He placed it on the bed and sat down beside it.

She eyed the dry toast dubiously but took a nibble at Luca’s insistent nod. She took a sip of the sweet milky tea and was surprised to feel the fine trembling of her hands settle almost immediately.

‘You’re not going to work today,’ Luca said, eyeing her as he bit into a crumbly croissant.

Rilla coveted the divine-smelling pastry but doubted whether her delicate system was up to it. ‘Of course I am,’ she said, taking another nibble of toast. ‘I feel better already.’

‘You don’t want to overdo it,’ Luca lectured.

‘Luca, I could very well be sick the entire pregnancy.’ Rilla paused, horrified at the prospect. ‘I can’t take every day off work because of it. Plenty of women have to manage morning sickness with their work responsibilities. And now the NUM position is mine, I have to lead by example.’

Luca stopped chewing. ‘You got the job?’

Rilla grinned at him and nodded. ‘Yesterday was a big-news day.’

‘Oh, that’s fantastic, Rilla,’ Luca enthused. He placed the croissant back on the plate and pulled her towards him for a quick congratulatory peck on each cheek. He knew how long she’d been after that job. After the miscarriage, after they’d drifted apart, it had become her sole focus. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

Rilla lost the thread of the conversation for a moment as her senses took leave, due to his European-style, completely asexual kiss. She blinked and picked up the thread again.

‘To be perfectly honest, I felt so rough and then with everything else that happened last night, it completely slipped my mind.’

Luca grinned back. ‘Fair enough.’

They munched at their breakfast for a few more moments. ‘Will being pregnant make a difference to getting the job?’ he asked.

Rilla shrugged. She wouldn’t have thought so but, then, she hadn’t really had a chance to consider it. ‘They’ve offered it to me. They can’t un-offer it because I’m having a baby.’

Luca nodded. He thought about how hard she’d been working the last month and felt a niggle of worry.

‘You will take it easy, wont you? The NUM job is going to be really stressful. I don’t want … I’d hate for …’ Luca struggled to find the right words without apportioning blame or placing guilt. They’d both done more than enough of that last time.

He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t think I could go through another miscarriage.’

And she could? She looked into his worried gaze. ‘Working had nothing to do with last time, Luca,’ she said gently.

Neither had her insistence that she was perfectly capable of filling the car with petrol or persuading a reluctant Luca to make love just hours before she’d started cramping. But in the aftermath they’d dissected every little thing they had done and not done, searching for a meaning to it all.

And when they hadn’t been able to find one, their individual guilt had driven them apart and they’d sought solace in their work instead of each other. Maybe seven years down the track it would be possible to forgive themselves and start anew.

Rilla placed her hand over his. ‘I think it’s time we both acknowledged it was something that happened that was beyond our control. That one in four pregnancies ends that way.’

Luca looked down at her hand on his. Of course she was right. Medically, he couldn’t fault her. But a part of him, the Latin male part of him, would always feel he’d been tardy in his job to protect her. To protect his child.

He’d sworn as a boy growing up with an absent father that he would always be there for his child. And yet, when it had mattered, he hadn’t been able to protect them. He had failed.

‘I know. I was wrong to pull away from you. It was hard … harder than I ever thought. I didn’t know what to do or say to you. Work was easier,’ he admitted.

Rilla blinked, not expecting such frankness. Why hadn’t he been able to say this to her back then? When their love had still been salvageable. Seven years of silence had inflicted more damage on their relationship than frosty communication or outright war.

‘We both made mistakes, Luca,’ she sighed, releasing his hand. ‘We rushed into everything. Sex, living together, marriage. We didn’t spend time getting to know each other, building a foundation that could take such a big hit so early in the piece.’

She picked up her toast and took a few nibbles. Luca watched her as she sipped at her tea. He picked his croissant up too and then put it down uneaten, wiping the flakes off his fingers.

He cleared his throat nervously. He’d lain awake most of the night, going over and over the situation. He’d forged a plan. It was crazy and he had no idea if she’d go along with it, but if they worked at it, it could be better than it ever had been.

‘I was thinking last night … about the future … about the baby … about us.’

Rilla glanced at him warily through her fringe. Her heart did a silly flutter at his mention of ‘us’ but she paid it no heed. ‘Oh, yes?’ she said carefully.

Luca nodded and took a deep breath before he plunged on. ‘I think we should reconcile. Rip up the divorce papers.’

‘I … I beg your pardon?’ she spluttered. She must have misheard. Reconcile? This was completely out of left field.

Luca nodded, fully prepared to take advantage of her obvious shocked state to press his case. ‘Think about it. It makes sense, Rilla. You’re pregnant and we’re still married.’

‘Officially, yes,’ she said. ‘But in every other way, no.’

‘I’m not talking about going back to the way it was before. I’m talking about a platonic arrangement. Where we get to both be parents to our child without all the other stuff that made us so crazy before.’

Rilla gaped some more. Had he lost his mind? ‘Luca … this is madness.’

‘No.’ Luca rose and prowled around the room. ‘This is probably the most sensible thing we’ve ever done. Last time it was all about us. Rushing in and loving and wanting and needing and not having room for anyone or anything else. This way we start on the right foot. A focus on something else other than us. On the baby.’

‘But aren’t we just rushing into this?’ Rilla felt completely poleaxed.

‘No,’ he denied. ‘We’re just taking the first step toward the best future for our baby. It seems hasty because it’s a big step, but once we’ve made it we’ll have months to slow down and work out the details.’

‘We don’t need to reconcile to do that, Luca. We just need to commit ourselves to making the baby our priority.’

‘No!’ Luca said, immediately rejecting her suggestion. ‘I grew up with a father who was rarely around. I will not be a distant relation in my child’s life.’

Rilla heard the zeal in his voice and wanted to reach out and touch him as the shadows of his childhood haunted his gaze. She knew so little about his formative years.

‘I want to be part of my baby’s life right from the start. See it grow inside you, every day. See every change in your body, feel every kick, be there when you go into labour. And I want to live with him or her, not down the road or around the corner. Be in its life every day. I imagine you do as well.’

‘Of course,’ she agreed quickly.

‘Good, then this is the perfect situation for both of us. This way we get to give the baby a stable home. Two parents, living together under the same roof, that love him or her unconditionally.’

‘Even if they don’t love each other?’

How could she do as he was suggesting? Live under the same roof as Luca? Playing happy families when the reality would be very different? How could she live a lie?

Luca stopped pacing. ‘Love? After us, I swore to myself I’d never leave my heart open for that kind of hurt again, and I meant it. It’d be especially foolish to repeat past mistakes.’

Rilla tried not to flinch but his words did make sense. What they’d had was over. Dead. She wouldn’t describe either of them as gluttons for punishment.

‘This is about our baby, Rilla. Just the baby.’

‘You could commit to a loveless union? A marriage that’s in name only? A farce?’

She made it sound so cold. So calculated. Yet it had all sounded perfectly reasonable in his head last night. Sure, he’d expected her to resist, but not over the issue of love. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

‘Of course. For my child, of course. Why? Are you telling me you still have feelings for me?’

Feelings for him? Not unless he counted the growing urge to slap his face. ‘I’d be especially foolish to do that again,’ she said mimicking him.

Touché. ‘Look, Rilla,’ he said, sitting on the bed and picking up her hands. They felt cold and he rubbed them absently. ‘The whole love thing didn’t work so well for us first time around. Maybe this is a much better way to run a marriage.’

Rilla looked into his earnest eyes. Maybe he was right. ‘I don’t know, Luca.’

He could see she was wavering and he scrambled his thoughts together to close the deal. Something inside him told him they could make it work. Nagged at him to make it happen.

‘I do. I know we can make a success of this. We can redefine what a marriage is, Rilla. We’ve got months before the baby is born. Let’s take the time to get to know each other.’

Rilla almost blushed, thinking about how well he knew her. She pulled her hands from his. ‘I think you know me, pretty well, Luca.’

She was right. Last time there probably hadn’t been one thing he hadn’t known about her body. He’d known intimately the weight of her breasts in his palms, how vocal she was when an orgasm took hold of her body and exactly what to do to make her moan, to make her gasp and to make her beg.

But that wasn’t what he’d meant. ‘No. Let’s not do what we did last time. Depend on a physical relationship to get us through. Let’s spend the next eight months talking. Just talking.’

Rilla liked the sound of it. It would be good really getting to know the man she’d married in such a rush seven years ago. What made him tick. What made him the man he was today. What had happened in his childhood to make him so adamant that he wanted to be part of his child’s life that he’d float reconciliation in an all-but-dead marriage.

‘We might even become friends,’ Luca continued. ‘Like in the old days. When we first met. Do you remember that?’

How could she not, especially with him sitting this close, his muscular thigh brushing her leg? The banter. The flirting. The tingle of anticipation. Surely he hadn’t forgotten they’d moved from friends to lovers pretty quickly? ‘You used to laugh, Luca,’ she said softly. ‘You used to laugh a lot.’

Luca took in her beautiful face, the urge to kiss the beauty spot at the corner of her mouth almost overwhelming. He lifted his hand and brushed his thumb over it instead. ‘Hasn’t been a whole lot to laugh about the last seven years.’

Rilla’s head spun. His proximity made it hard to think straight at all. She closed her eyes as the gentle brush of his finger tingled through her entire body. She could feel her nipples tighten.

She opened her eyes slowly and stared at his perfect mouth and white teeth. ‘What about sex?’

Luca’s thumb stopped its impulsive caress and he dropped his hand back into his lap. He could see the tight points of her nipples outlined in his T-shirt and was pleased he’d donned a shirt to cover the ruckus that was currently going on in his boxers.

He swallowed. ‘What about it?’

‘Well, would there be …? Would you …? Would there be … conjugal privileges?’

Luca grinned at the frown that appeared between her eyes as she’d sought the right phrase. ‘I think we need to keep this strictly platonic,’ he said, sobering. ‘Separate bedrooms. We’ve done the sex thing before and look where that got us. It’ll just ruin our focus.’

Rilla couldn’t believe how matter-of-fact, how analytical he sounded. ‘Do you seriously think we can live under the same roof and not succumb to this crazy thing that’s always been between us? Our relationship may be over but I think we’ve proved more than adequately that we’re still sexually attracted to each other.’

Luca beat back the images from their passionate reunion. ‘I think it would be a mistake,’ he said stiffly. ‘Do you remember what happened the last time we had sex when you were pregnant? I’m not repeating that mistake.’

A nerve jumped at the angle of Luca’s jaw. Rilla could see it through the heavy overnight stubble. His voice brooked no argument. ‘It wasn’t that, Luca. I didn’t miscarry because of that.’

Rationally, Luca knew that. He was a doctor. But he’d second-guessed everything ad nauseam from that terrible time and he wasn’t prepared to risk anything this time round. ‘I’m not taking any chances,’ he said firmly, looking her straight in the eye.

How could he be so certain? Oh, sure, she knew all about his stubborn Latin male streak, but their still seething sexual attraction seemed to have a life of its own. Eight months of living under the same roof as Luca, married to all intents and purposes, and he really thought it could be platonic?

‘Well, what do you think?’ Luca probed after she’d been silent for a few moments.

What did she think? This whole plan was stark, raving crazy. That’s what she thought. ‘I think going into marriage again, even for something as noble as our child when we still have so much baggage and without love, is doomed to failure.’

Rilla wasn’t sure if it was the emotionless topic or the baby but she suddenly felt violently ill. She passed her mug to Luca and bolted from the bed. She made it to the toilet just in time, her measly amount of tea and toast ejected from her stomach.

After there was nothing left to bring up Rilla sat on the bathroom floor, feeling emptier than her stomach. Luca hadn’t joined her and the chill of the tiles seeped into her body. Into her bones. She shivered, pulling her knees up, dragging Luca’s shirt down over them, hoping her body warmth would ward off the sudden bleakness.

She was pregnant with a much longed-for baby. It should be the happiest time of her life. But she was sick and miserable. Utterly miserable. The urge to cry welled up inside her and Rilla roused herself, refusing to sink into the abyss of self-pity again.

Feeling sorry for herself would not take the nausea away and would not help her with the Luca situation. He was no doubt pacing in her room, waiting for her decision.

She washed her face with some water, her hand trembling slightly, and brushed her teeth. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and knew she wouldn’t be going to work today. Luca was right—she didn’t look well. All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head until the baby was ready to be born. Not even the joy of her new position could rouse her interest.

Luca was on the phone when she left the bathroom.

‘I’m ringing Julia to let them know you won’t be in today,’ he said briskly.

She gave him a weary nod as she passed, too tired and sick, both physically and emotionally, to care. She stood in the doorway, looking back over her shoulder at him as he spoke into the phone. Julia must have said something funny because Luca laughed. The tanned column of his neck stretched as his head flopped back against the wall.

She should have been cranky that he was taking over her life. But she wasn’t. She should have cared that Julia would be wondering why Luca was calling in sick for her. But she didn’t. His physique was totally distracting.

The sun filtered through the wooden blinds in the lounge room and striped his body in golden light. The grey cotton shirt clung to his contours, as did the boxers, moulding his powerful thighs. He had one leg bent up, his foot flat on the wall, and Rilla admired the shape of his knee and the manly covering of dark hair.

She dragged her gaze away and moved into the room, sinking down onto the bed. Luca had offered her a very reasonable solution to the baby situation. A reconciliation to give their baby the best option. A mother and a father living together under the same roof.

Only she wasn’t so sure such things should be entered into with such a lack of emotion. It seemed fraught with potential disaster. Their relationship scars from seven years ago still needled beneath the surface. Were they just leaving themselves open for more?

But it was no use. Deep down she knew she’d do it, despite all the reasons not to. Of course she could. Of course she would. Because this wasn’t about them. It was about their baby. And she’d do whatever it took to give it the best of everything.

She just needed to look at it as Luca did. Take herself and Luca out of the equation. Make it about the baby. Could she re-enter a stone-cold relationship for this baby? Of course she could. Like millions of women before her, she would put this child’s needs first. And Luca was right—their baby deserved two parents.

‘Julia said to take care and not to come back until you’re feeling better.’

Rilla looked up at Luca standing in the doorway, interrupting her train of thought. ‘You didn’t tell her, did you? About the baby?’

‘No,’ he said casually. ‘Would it have been so bad if I had?’

Rilla breathed a sigh of relief. ‘No, of course not. I just thought we’d wait for a bit, that’s all.’

She didn’t want to say, In case I have another miscarriage. She didn’t want to tempt fate. But it was a valid point. A dreadful one, sure, but entirely valid.

Rilla remembered how awful it had been last time, having to tell the people who’d known about the pregnancy that she’d lost the baby. Deflecting questions from people who hadn’t known, reliving the whole awful experience again and again as they’d apologised profusely.

Luca had avoided all the questions, walking around with a constant don’t-even-think-of-talking-to-me snarl on his face, throwing himself into his work, leaving her to face the multitudes. His lack of support had added to her burden and people’s well-meant concern had been like a constant rub of salt into her very raw wounds.

‘Until twelve weeks?’ he asked.

Rilla nodded. Entering the second trimester was an accepted milestone when the greatest miscarriage risk had passed. She’d lost the baby at eleven weeks last time.

‘I can have an ultrasound then and we can start to tell people. I’m just not sure what this will mean for the NUM job. I’d rather wait … be sure … before I let Julia know. The department will have to find someone to cover me for maternity leave. They may even want to appoint two of us to job-share the role when I’m ready to come back to work.’

Luca blinked. ‘You’ve obviously thought about this.’

‘Not really, just thinking out loud.’ Rilla’s mind ran over all the possibilities as they spoke.

‘So you plan on going back to work afterwards?’

Rilla narrowed her eyes, not fooled by his casual question.

‘Yes, Luca. You know my career is important to me. You know NUM has always been my goal. At some stage I’m going to want to pick up my career. I’ve worked too hard and too long to ditch it altogether.’

‘You want it all?’

His voice was flat and Rilla knew he didn’t mean it to sound like a criticism but it did. ‘Yes, Luca. Like you. Like a man. A career and a family. Why not?’

Luca ran a hand through his hair. She was right, of course, men were able to have it all. But that was a philosophical debate for another time. It was wrong and unfair but unfortunately that was largely the way it still was.

‘Because it never works out like that in the real world,’ he said, his voice flat.

Rilla nodded. He was right—she’d seen it so many times with her female colleagues. ‘Well, I want to give it a whirl, Luca. I’m not talking about full-time work here, certainly not for a long while anyway. And I know that may require compromise with the NUM role and it may end up that I’ll have bitten off more than I can chew. But I will want to return to part-time work. And later … who knows?’

‘But you don’t have to,’ Luca stressed, worried that Rilla was oversimplifying and setting herself up for a lifetime of spreading herself too thinly. Like his mother had. ‘I can look after you and the baby.’

‘I know.’ His black eyes were earnest and she could see it was important to him for her to know that.

Rilla didn’t know much about his childhood but it was obvious he’d felt his own father had been remiss in his responsibilities. ‘But I want to. I’m going to need your support, though, Luca. I can’t do it without you. Do I have it?’

‘You really want to go back to work after the baby’s born?’

‘Eventually, yes. I really do. That’s a deal breaker, Luca. I’m not entering into this crazy reconciliation unless I have your word that you’ll support me.’

Luca felt the first flutter of hope in his chest. She was sitting on the bed cross-legged, wearing his T-shirt and his underwear and carrying his child, and she looked pale and tired, and he knew that was to his advantage but he also knew he’d agree to almost anything.

He also knew, much to his regret, that he still wanted her. Her hair fell in thick disorder around her face and her long lashes drew him into the enticing amber trap of her eyes. The fascinating freckle at the corner of her mouth inevitably drew his gaze to the softness of her lips.

His shirt chose that moment to slip off a shoulder and he tracked the ridge of her collar-bone, his eyes drawn south to the way the cotton pulled taut across her braless chest, her nipples puckering beneath his gaze. Memories of how he had ravaged them a month ago returned, and his mouth watered.

Luca cleared his throat and tried to concentrate on the negotiations. ‘So you are agreeing to the reconciliation?’

‘If you agree to me returning to work.’

Her gaze glowed with conviction and he actually felt that if anyone could juggle motherhood and work, she could. ‘Of course,’ he murmured, his gaze slipping to her mouth, the freckle enticing. ‘You have my full support.’

Rilla felt the heat of his gaze and felt her nipples tighten further. Was it her hormonal state or did it feel hot in here suddenly? She tucked her knees under her chin, pulling Luca’s shirt down over them. This was a serious conversation and aroused nipples had no part to play. Even so, the feel of them squashed against her warm thighs didn’t ease the ache.

‘Thank you,’ she said, her breath annoyingly ragged.

Luca relaxed against the doorframe, his tense muscles smoothing out. ‘Can you move in immediately? Today, if possible?’

Rilla blinked. ‘Whoa! I thought we’d learned the not-rushing-in lesson.’

‘Please, Rilla, I don’t want to miss out on one day of the pregnancy.’

She sighed, completely undone by his emotive plea. She nodded slowly. What was the point in delaying any further now she’d agreed? She didn’t have the right or the heart to deny Luca the connection he craved with their baby.

‘I’ll make some arrangements later on when I’m feeling better.’

Luca put his hand on his heart. ‘Thank you, Rilla. You have made me a very happy man.’

He looked so sexy, so … Italian, standing there in his clingy pyjamas with joy shining from his black eyes, that she practically swooned. ‘Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet. Just because I’m moving back, it doesn’t mean we won’t have our teething problems. Seven years of silence, Luca. That’s a long time. I think it’ll take a while to feel natural around each other again.’

Luca nodded. ‘Of course. But I promise to do my best to ease the way. Our baby deserves that commitment. We can make it work for the baby’s sake.’

Rilla swallowed. For the baby. She had to keep her eye on the ball. There was no room to be sentimental. She was reconciling with her estranged husband for definite reasons. It would be dangerous to read any more into it than that.

‘I have to get ready for work,’ Luca said, fighting the urge to go in and sit back on the bed beside her and seal their deal with a kiss.

Rilla nodded slowly. Somehow agreeing to a reconciliation with him standing in the doorway to her bedroom didn’t seem right. It was a huge step and the distance between them made it seem like an even colder-blooded decision. But it did represent their new life together. Married without intimacy. Together for their child only. Separate bedrooms.

‘Sure. I guess I’ll see you tonight?’

Luca smiled. ‘Tonight.’ He liked the sound of that.

Coming home to Rilla.

Again.