Page 34 of The Italian's Marriage Bargain

‘What did he say?’ Her voice was a croak. The answer was one she really didn’t want to hear, but she knew deep down it was imperative she at least found out what she was up against.

‘A lot.’ Anna sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. ‘You know Luca; his life revolves around his work—heaven help the woman who tries to change him.’

‘But what did he say about the baby?’ Felicity pushed, fingers of fear wrapping around her heart as Anna’s cold black eyes met hers.

‘Lucky for me there was no baby, it was a false alarm. But Luca made it very clear he had no intention of becoming a father, even an estranged one. He wanted me to have an abortion,’ Anna finished watching as the colour drained out of Felicity’s cheeks. ‘But thankfully there was no need. Let’s get these tablets for you. Nothing seriously wrong, I hope?’

Felicity shook her head, still reeling from Anna’s words, forcing her voice to come out even. ‘I’ve just got a bit of a headache.’

‘Oh, a headache!’ The malicious smile was back. ‘That’s what wives get, isn’t it? I must try that one on Ricardo!’

A crushing reply was on the tip of Felicity’s tongue, but Anna seemed to change her mind all of a sudden, and the malicious smile was replaced by the first genuinely friendly one Felicity had seen.

‘I’m joking. Come, let’s get your paracetamol and I will get Ricardo’s antacid. He was complaining of chest pain this morning. For a minute I thought my luck was in, but it was only indigestion.’ Seeing Felicity’s shocked expression, she flashed that bewitching smile again. ‘You are very easy to tease, Felicity. You must toughen up a bit.’

A rapid exchange in Italian followed, and Ricardo’s antacid was smothered in Anna’s basket as the assistant loaded in hair conditioners, face packs and various items of make-up.

‘It is so boring here.’ Anna shrugged. ‘Now that Ricardo is insisting I give up work there is nothing for me to do except have facials. I understand that you and Luca were tied up last Saturday, but at the very least we should go and have a coffee—be friends. It will be nice having someone young to play with.’

Even Felicity smiled at Anna’s terminology.Playingwith Anna was way down on her list of priorities; it would only end in tears, after all! ‘Maybe some other time. I really do have to get back; I’m supposed to be studying.’

‘I will hold you to it.Ciao.’Kissing Felicity’s rather taut cheeks, Anna sauntered out, spraying every perfume on display as she did so.

Only when she had gone did Felicity make her way over to where Anna had disturbed her. At least she knew she was buying the right thing now. Blushing furiously, she made her purchase, frantically trying to avoid the assistant’s eyes and praying thatfarmaciastaff had the same moral code as doctors, or Luca would know the answer before she did!

It was the longest two minutes of her life. Sitting in the bathroom, staring at the piece of paper, her coat discarded on the floor, her scarf still draped around her shoulders, her need to know, to be absolutely sure, surpassed everything. She was strangely calm as she awaited her fate, and the pink cross slowly appearing was not even a surprise—more a confirmation of what she already knew.

‘We’ll be all right.’ Instinctively Felicity’s hand moved to her stomach, massaging the tiny scrap of life that so clearly was meant to be. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she wondered how she could still look the same when so much had changed. She was going to be a mother and Luca was going to be a father.

She was having Luca’s baby.

It was scary and overwhelming, and everything she hadn’t planned, but even in the midst of her internal chaos she could sense the beauty of the moment. Whether it was maternal instinct or just the chains of love Luca had trapped her in, she could never regret this infant for a moment, never resent a baby borne of love.

Love.

But did Luca love her?

Anna’s words came back like a mocking taunt, the demons that had snapped at her heels awakening now. Her mind whirred as she played out different scenarios, tried to imagine Luca’s ordered, busy life with a baby on board, a child born to a woman who was supposed to be a temporary solution.

Making her way out of the bathroom, she lay on the bed, staring dry-eyed at the small plastic indicator and the tiny pink cross that signified what she truly did not know. The beginning or the end?

‘Signora?’

Even though the knock on the door was firm Felicity barely heard it, and she stuffed the indicator under the pillow, hardly even bothering to look up as Rosa finally peered around.

‘Signor Luca, hetelefonowhile you out. He will be back tonight.’

‘Thank you, Rosa.’

The elderly lady turned to go, but midway she changed her mind. Crossing the room, she nervously perched herself on the edge of the bed, one bony hand touching Felicity’s in a surprising gesture of warmth.

‘You were right this morning,’ she started, as Felicity looked up sharply, eternally suspicious of the other woman. ‘You need some time alone with him. Tonight you cook, and me, Rosa, will go out. Come.’ She gave Felicity the benefit of a very rare smile. ‘I will show you how.’

Considering the internal bombshell that had just been dropped, Felicity found a strange sense of calm as she worked with Rosa in the kitchen. Old Italian music played on Rosa’s equally ancient radio, the wood stove was warm and womblike, and the two woman worked quietly together, Felicity listing intently as Rosa indoctrinated her into the finer points of Italian cuisine.

Real Italian cuisine, Felicity realised, not the plastic-wrapped bags of pasta and jars of spicy sauce she was used to, or the tiny bottle of smelly parmesan that stayed in her cupboard gathering dust. Instead, under Rosa’s patient guidance, Felicity turned a mountain of potatoes into tiny balls ofgnocchi, rubbing the little bundles in flour, each one a labour of love in itself. She chopped onions and mushrooms, whisked eggs and fried bacon, until all that would be needed that night was a two-minute whisk in the saucepan while the gnocchi rose to the top of boiling water. And she learnt at twenty-six years of age thatrealparmesan cheese didn’t smell at all, biting into the sharp, tiny curls Rosa shaved off, and suddenly discovering another vice to add to her list, along with chocolate and ice cream.

‘Grazie, Rosa.’ Felicity smiled as Rosa pulled on her coat, calling to her husband in rapid Italian.

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