Page 50 of Forbidden Until Midnight

‘Sì?’

‘Can you please convince your son that he needs to wear trousers for this evening?’

Santo came down the corridor to the bedroom opposite his and his wife’s, and peered in with a frown.

‘I’m not sure I can do that,’ he said with grave seriousness.

‘Oh, really? And why would that be, husband?’ Eleanor asked with a raised eyebrow, but the glint in her eye told him that she knew there was mischief afoot.

‘Because I don’t think heshouldwear trousers this evening.’

Pietro jumped up and down, celebrating exuberantly.

‘And if he’s not wearing trousers this evening, then I don’t need to wear trousers either,’ Santo announced with a flourish.

Pietro stopped in an instant. ‘No, Papà. You have to wear trousers!’

‘But I can’t leave you to be the only person not wearing trousers. So I’ll keep you company by not wearing trousers.’

His gorgeous little boy frowned, trying to work through the complex reasoning of his desire to not wear trousers and his intense dislike of his father not doing so. It looked almost painful, and Santo tried very hard not to laugh.

‘Papà wear my dress?’ two-and-a-half-year-old Lucia offered in broken English.

‘Oh, can I?’ Santo asked with absolute delight.

‘I’m not sure you’ll fit,’ Eleanor mused.

‘I absolutelywillfit,’ Santo replied dramatically. ‘Here, I’ll show you.’

And both of his children descended into even more laughter as he toed off his shoe and tried to put his foot in Lucia’s dress.

Eleanor didn’t think she could love her husband any more than she did in that moment. This was everything she had never dared to dream that she could have.

It seemed incredible that she even wanted to celebrate New Year’s Eve after the awfulness of the ten occasions she’d spent in different cities around Europe. But Santo had done that for her—healed parts of her that she’d never even known were damaged.

She still felt raw that he had suffered so much after the broken ties with the twelve families. She had grown up in business, become an adult in business. She knew the impact of the devastating loss and betrayal from such a large number of investors in the Sabatini Group.

Santo had done everything he could to reassure her that he was fine with reducing the company in the way he had been forced to do, and she believed him. It didn’t stop her being angry for him though. And there had been quite a lot of anger for her to deal with in the months that had followed their escape.

Because that was what she’d seen it as. An escape. She had been imprisoned by lies and manipulation, and freedom had been quite an adjustment. But Santo had loved her through it all. Reassured her, soothed her, accepted her in every possible way.

It would have been so easy for him to dominate the relationship she had with Pietro, but he had encouraged her to find her own way with her biological father and it had meant everything to her. That he accepted the complexity of her feelings towards both her parents was huge for her. Parents who would, for the first time, be together under this roof tonight.

Much had changed in her mother’s life, and Freddie’s too. Analise had stayed with Edward until Freddie was eighteen years old and then moved out into a little flat, cutting all ties with her husband apart from communication via her lawyers. Freddie had gone with her and together they had weathered the storm of Edward’s wrath.

Eleanor had begged them to come and stay with her and Santo, who would have welcomed them with open arms, but Analise and Freddie insisted that they wanted to handle it their way and she’d respected that. Freddie had grown into a man in so many ways since then. He was now at university and seeing a girl he’d met there, both of whom would also be coming tonight.

Santo’s mother would also be joining them and bringing her companion. It had taken a while for Santo to warm to Enrico but the man had earned his grudging respect for the way that he treated his mother and she could tell that there was a sense of peace about Santo now that his mother had eventually found her own happiness. It was a peace that soothed many old hurts for her husband and, for that, she would be thankful for ever to Enrico.

‘Right, you terrors, I’m going to leave you in your father’s capable hands while I get myself ready. In myowndress. One that actually fits!’ she cried, giving them all a last final kiss before getting into the shower.

Washed, scrubbed, moisturised and bright pink from the heat of the water, Eleanor wiped the steam away from the mirror. Wrapped in a towel and nothing else, she thought she saw traces of the girl who had so optimistically entered the Hall of Antiquities in Munich thirteen years ago. There were laughter lines at her eyes now, knowing in her gaze, a few healed scars and a sense of self she’d never have had without the journey she had taken to be here.

And she’d change nothing. She loved the person she was, the man she’d married and the children she’d born with a passion and fervour she’d not known, let alone thought herself capable of. What she had achieved with Santo was a life, a home, a family that she was proud of.

Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes and she waved her hand at them to stop them from falling. She needed to put on her make-up and she couldn’t get this emotional yet.

‘Il mio cuore, what’s wrong?’ Santo asked, stepping into the bathroom behind her and wrapping her in his arms.

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