Page 30 of The Convenient Cosentino Wife

“Did you?”

“I hope so. I hit Send.” She wrinkled her nose as she smiled. “I don’t tend to overthink those things. Just do it and be done with it. I can’t stand a full inbox.”

He liked looking at her, liked listening to her, too. She was beautiful. Her dark hair was loose over her shoulders, and her short-sleeve blouse, a shade of cool mint, brought out the lavender-blue of her eyes. “Could you tear yourself away from your computer for an hour or two? I thought we might go for a drive. It’s a beautiful day and I have my convertible.”

She glanced at one of the windows and then back at him. “I’d like that. Let me just grab a light sweater and sunglasses.”

“I’ll be down at the car.”

“I’ll meet you soon.”

She was quick, too, outside in less than five minutes with the sweater, sunglasses and a purse. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and changed her shoes, now wearing pretty sandals that tied around her ankles.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he held the passenger door for her.

“I thought we’d go to Ostia Antica, and we can decide what we feel like once there. We can explore the ruins, have lunch or just enjoy a coffee.”

“I’ve never been,” she said. “But it’s a place I thought Adriano would like to go.”

“It’s quite big, and there’s so much to see that I propose we drive—”

“Do you think there will be a lot of tourists?” she asked.

“There will probably be buses for tourists coming in from Rome, yes.”

“Could we maybe go somewhere else? Just drive north, or south? It will feel good just to have the sun on our faces and the wind in our hair.”

“We shall go north then, maybe to Ladispoli?”

“Another castle in another seaport town.”

“So you know it?” he asked.

“I do, but I haven’t been in a couple of years and I’d love to see if my favorite bakery is there. They made the best bread and pastries.”

“We can go find out.”

It was a pleasure to be driving the Alfa Romeo, especially with Clare sitting beside him. Rocco didn’t try to make conversation, and Clare seemed happy to just soak up the sun and let the world pass them by. It was a scenic drive too, small villages dotting the coastline, the water a sparkling blue.

He liked having her in his car, at his side. He was ready to move forward, making a life with her. Marriage. Intimacy. Family.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever marry again.

But now she was here next to him, Rocco was amazed and alarmed. Had he wished for this? Had he craved her so much that he’d set in motion a series of terrible events? Part of him knew life didn’t work that way. The rational part of his brain knew Marius’s accident on the polo field had been just that, a terrible accident, but Rocco had spent his life taking care of his brother, protecting him, providing for him. But now, to be here, in this place, with this opportunity to have a family with Clare and Adriano, created the terrible tension within him.

Now he was the one who felt as if he didn’t deserve her.

Now he struggled with guilt and self-loathing. He could marry her, become her husband, stepping into Marius’s vacant position. But was it right? Was it fair to any of them?

If Clare knew the truth, if she understood that his coldness and reserve had been motivated by jealousy, she’d be appalled. As she should be. But that didn’t make him want her less. It didn’t make him drop the idea of marriage. If anything he was even more determined to have her, claim her. And he meant to claim her—heart, mind, body, soul. Desire hadn’t faded. If anything, it had just grown stronger. When she was close, he felt alive, almost as if he was multidimensional, everything right and fierce, everything driven and focused.

He hadn’t thought it was possible to feel this way about another person. He hadn’t wanted anyone like this before, and even though he’d been married, he and his wife had been childhood sweethearts, growing up together and he’d loved his wife, but it had never been this fierce, consuming desire he felt for Clare.

Clare made him feel incomplete, as if she was the other half of his soul, and this certainty gave him patience. He’d wait for her, for as long as need be.

The sense of rightness—not morally, but physically, spiritually—helped his self-control. He didn’t want to frighten her. He wanted her to feel safe with him, and to trust him. Trust took time. Trust was important so that when she was finally his, she’d give all of herself to him, not just the broken pieces, but all the pieces, all the hopes, all the pain, all the dreams.

That was his plan, and the goal. And he had to succeed, otherwise guilt and Marius would haunt him forever, and that would be a terrible outcome for him...for Clare...for all of them.

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