Page 34 of Bound by Their Christmas Baby

He’d destroyed his father?

She thought of what she knew of the man who was to become her husband. He’d been raised by foster parents in Australia. That was how he’d met his business partner, she knew, because he’d mentioned it in passing only a week or so earlier, as though it hardly mattered. He’d gone into the foster system at eight—she’d remembered because it was the same age her own life had been turned on its head when her mother had died.

But before that?

She had no idea, and now she wanted to know.

She could ask him, but Gabe hadn’t seemed at all forthcoming after he’d dropped the bombshell. He’d skated around the topic, talking instead about logistics for the wedding—the licences that would be necessary, given that she was American. It could take time, he’d warned.

That was fine with Abby. It wasn’t that she regretted having agreed to marry him, but a little time to adjust to her new circumstances would be good.

Necessary.

Essential.

Only she’d barely seen him for two weeks and she was beginning to suspect that he was avoiding her.

Fighting an urge to reach down and cuddle Raf, she slipped out of his room, making her way to her own bedroom. She didn’t think of Gabe as she passed his door; it was too dangerous.

From her room, she spied the forest that surrounded the castle and suddenly she remembered the idea that had occurred to her weeks earlier in Fiamatina. Perhaps the conversation with Gabe had pushed all else from her mind, because she’d barely thought of the delightful Christmas decorations either. They were still sitting in the shopping bag. She pulled them out now, setting them on her dressing table with reverence, smiling as she observed how beautiful and special they were. And they would look even better on a tree!

Surely they deserved a tree?

With renewed determination, she grabbed the coat Gabe had given her—several more had been added to her wardrobe since then, arriving in boxes from Milan, Venice, Paris and Prague. It was a thoughtful gesture but Abby resented feeling like a beneficiary of his patronage.

She’d come to know many of the household staff well, including Hughie, a young Irishman who’d taken over much of the work in the grounds around the castle. It was Hughie who cleared the snow several times a day. She liked him best, perhaps because he spoke English and so they were able to converse easily. He also had a soft spot for Raf, which was instantly endearing.

‘Hughie?’ She found him bent over the fireplace, stocking it with fresh wood.

He lifted his head and grinned, a smile that would bring most women to their knees. Unfortunately for Abby, only one smile in the world had the ability to set her pulse racing and she had to rely on her memories of it. She hadn’t seen a lot of Gabe’s smile since she’d come to Italy.

‘Do you think you could help me with something?’

‘Anything.’ He stood up and wiped his hands on the worn fronts of his jeans. ‘You look like you’ve got mischief on your mind,’ he said, wiggling his brows.

‘Definitely,’ Abby laughed. ‘I want to put up a tree.’

‘A Christmas tree?’

‘Yep. No shortage of trees to choose from, right? But I don’t have an axe. Or experience with felling trees, come to think of it. And I thought…’

‘Oh, yeah, sure.’ Hughie grinned. ‘I’ll bring one down for you right now, before the dark settles. Come on. You can even pick it.’

It was the first real fun Abby had had in a long time. They walked through the dense woods for half an hour, talking about Hughie’s family back home—six sisters and parents who adored their brood—which made Abby incredib

ly jealous.

He was moving onto describing his oldest sister, Daphne, when Abby froze.

‘It’s perfect,’ she squealed, jumping up and down on the spot.

‘Sheesh!’ Hughie grinned. ‘You couldn’t ’ave chosen a tree closer to the castle, huh?’

‘Sorry…’ She winced. ‘Can we have this one?’

‘Yeah, I reckon we can.’ He lifted the chainsaw. ‘Stand back, then.’

She did, watching with admiration as he chainsawed through most of the thick trunk and then gave it a kick, felling the tree easily.

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