Claiming The Virgin's Baby - Page 63

But he knew that was never what she’d wanted from him.

I love you. I would have stayed married to you forever.

Stumbling past the library, he stopped when he saw a dark shadow on the hardwood floor. One of Oliver’s toys? Frowning, he went into the room. It was indeed a child’s toy, but not his son’s. It was a well-loved teddy bear he’d never seen before. Whose could it be?

Then he knew.

“Your wife deserves better than how you’re treating her, Alex,” Cesare Falconeri had told him last night, when the two men were alone at the bonfire. “You can do better.”

It was something that Alex had already known in his heart, something he was trying desperately not to know, so hearing the words spoken aloud had enraged him.

“Your marriage won’t last,” Alex had responded in a bitter counterattack. “Your children will see your family fall apart. See you break your vows.”

“You’re wrong.” Cesare’s eyes had calmly met Alex’s. “I’d sooner cut out my own heart than betray those I love.”

Now Alex looked at the stuffed teddy bear. He wondered which of Cesare’s children it belonged to. Tomorrow, he would ask his assistant to send it on to Lake Como.

But as he was about to set it down, he stopped, looking at the teddy bear, so soft in his

hand. For a moment, his heart pounded as he stood in the cool silence of the darkened villa.

His throat hurt.

He would take it himself. Why the hell not? Where else did he have to go?

Anything to get away from the memories of her—

Three hours later, after getting lost twice in the winding roads through the mountains, Alex arrived at the beautiful villa by the lake.

“Alex.” Cesare’s face was startled when the butler escorted him into the salon. “What are you doing here?”

Yes, what?

“This,” Alex stammered, holding up the teddy bear awkwardly. Cesare took it with a rueful grin.

“You can’t imagine how much trouble we had last night, convincing Elena to sleep without it. Thanks.”

“Good. Great,” Alex said awkwardly. “So. That’s it. I’ll go.”

“Wait.” His cousin smiled. “We’re about to sit down for dinner. Join us. Come say hello.”

And so it was that Alex greeted the Falconeri children, who seemed far more excited by the teddy bear’s appearance than his. But Cesare’s wife, Emma, hugged him close, before she glanced behind him.

“Where are Rosalie and Oliver?”

“Gone,” he said. “Back to California.”

His voice was strangled. He’d had to force the words from his throat.

“What? Why?” Emma cried.

Cesare, looking at Alex’s face, intervened, “Emma, my dear, would you mind starting dinner without me?” Grabbing a bottle and two highball glasses, he looked back at Alex. “Let’s go out on the terrace.”

An hour later, deep into his second glass of forty-year-old Scotch, Alex found himself sitting on a terrace overlooking sparkling Lake Como, beneath the setting sun with a slight chill in the air, spilling his guts.

“Don’t you see?” Alex finished. “They all died. No matter what I do. Whether I keep my promises or not, I destroy the life of anyone who gets close to me.” He’d never thought he’d share the story with Cesare. “I tried to keep my promise to Rosalie,” he said in a low voice. “I failed. I can’t take care of her like she needs. I can’t love her. I don’t know how.”

“I didn’t know how, either,” Cesare admitted, looking out at the water. Then, with a smile, he glanced behind him at the joyous villa, full of life. “But then I did.”

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