withdrawal as he pushed himself back in his chair, and she feared the worst.
The specialist’s face turned into a broad smile at Rafe’s reaction, before he turned his attentions to her, patting her on the ankle. ‘ Va tutto benissimo. Auguri signorina, lei aspetta gemelli .’
She shook her head and looked at Rafe who suddenly looked as shell-shocked as she felt. ‘I don’t understand. What’s wrong? What’s happening?’
‘Ah, excuse me, please,’ the dottore said, looking truly contrite as he pointed to twin smudges on the screen. ‘In my excitement I forgot my manners. But you have my heartiest congratulations, signorina . It appears you are expecting twins.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
R AFE peered at the screen and at the two dark smudges in a sea of light, smudges that proved beyond doubt he would become a father not just once but twice over in a few short months from now, a feeling of pride so huge in his chest that he wanted to howl like the Beast of Iseo itself. What fortune had brought Sienna to the island? Providence couldn’t have dealt him a better hand.
‘Twins?’ he heard her say, her voice shaky as if she couldn’t believe the news herself. ‘It can’t be…’
He lifted her hand then and pressed his lips against it. ‘We will marry as soon as possible,’ he said. ‘There can be no delay.’
Rafe took her to dinner that night, insisting they celebrate the news, in a harbour-front restaurant where a private room furnished with gilt mirrors and lush curtains had been set up for them on an upstairs terrace that overlooked the lights of the harbour front and the marina. It was the first time she’d been to Velatte City, and she loved its vibrancy and colour and the handsome people, their features a blend of the best the Mediterranean could offer.
Carmelina had proven her worth as Sienna’s wardrobe manager, selecting without hesitation a gown shaded fromlilac through to a rich jewel-shade of amethyst that sat snug over Sienna’s bustline before falling in soft, almost toga-like folds to the floor. With her hair coiled in wide ringlets and gathered up behind her head loosely for the ends to trail down, she almost felt like a Greek goddess. The way Rafe looked at her almost made her believe it.
Even so, the way he’d dressed made her wish she’d taken even more care. In a dark tuxedo and crisp white shirt he was magnificent, the Lombardi-crested cufflinks at his wrists, a burgundy tie at his throat. He looked like a man who had everything he wanted in the world, and if there was one tiny pang of regret about this whole celebration, it was that she knew that the babies she was carrying were a large part of it.
But she’d done a lot of thinking about those babies herself today, and a lot of it centered around her fears for what might happen if she did marry Rafe, and the quality of life she could offer them if she didn’t.
One baby she believed she could cope with. She’d have to get a nanny, but she made decent money when she could fly. It would be hard to be a single mother, but at a stretch she would cope. Women did, all around the world, every day. Why couldn’t she?
But knowing she was carrying twins had changed things, had tipped the balance. What kind of life could she offer them? What hope had she of being able to afford their care while she worked and what hope of giving them the family life they deserved? Would they grow up resenting her because she could not give them the lifestyle they would have had with their father?
But marriage without love? The one thing she feared more than anything.
How could he ask it of her?
They sat enjoying their entrées; a rare kind of peace descendedon them as if Rafe too was deep in thought, while the vibrant waterfront buzzed below and the warm breeze tugged at her hair. Violin music drifted up from the main restaurant downstairs, gypsy music that was filled with life and hope and passion.
The first hint of the helicopter making its
The specialist’s face turned into a broad smile at Rafe’s reaction, before he turned his attentions to her, patting her on the ankle. ‘ Va tutto benissimo. Auguri signorina, lei aspetta gemelli .’
She shook her head and looked at Rafe who suddenly looked as shell-shocked as she felt. ‘I don’t understand. What’s wrong? What’s happening?’
‘Ah, excuse me, please,’ the dottore said, looking truly contrite as he pointed to twin smudges on the screen. ‘In my excitement I forgot my manners. But you have my heartiest congratulations, signorina . It appears you are expecting twins.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
R AFE peered at the screen and at the two dark smudges in a sea of light, smudges that proved beyond doubt he would become a father not just once but twice over in a few short months from now, a feeling of pride so huge in his chest that he wanted to howl like the Beast of Iseo itself. What fortune had brought Sienna to the island? Providence couldn’t have dealt him a better hand.
‘Twins?’ he heard her say, her voice shaky as if she couldn’t believe the news herself. ‘It can’t be…’
He lifted her hand then and pressed his lips against it. ‘We will marry as soon as possible,’ he said. ‘There can be no delay.’
Rafe took her to dinner that night, insisting they celebrate the news, in a harbour-front restaurant where a private room furnished with gilt mirrors and lush curtains had been set up for them on an upstairs terrace that overlooked the lights of the harbour front and the marina. It was the first time she’d been to Velatte City, and she loved its vibrancy and colour and the handsome people, their features a blend of the best the Mediterranean could offer.
Carmelina had proven her worth as Sienna’s wardrobe manager, selecting without hesitation a gown shaded fromlilac through to a rich jewel-shade of amethyst that sat snug over Sienna’s bustline before falling in soft, almost toga-like folds to the floor. With her hair coiled in wide ringlets and gathered up behind her head loosely for the ends to trail down, she almost felt like a Greek goddess. The way Rafe looked at her almost made her believe it.
Even so, the way he’d dressed made her wish she’d taken even more care. In a dark tuxedo and crisp white shirt he was magnificent, the Lombardi-crested cufflinks at his wrists, a burgundy tie at his throat. He looked like a man who had everything he wanted in the world, and if there was one tiny pang of regret about this whole celebration, it was that she knew that the babies she was carrying were a large part of it.
But she’d done a lot of thinking about those babies herself today, and a lot of it centered around her fears for what might happen if she did marry Rafe, and the quality of life she could offer them if she didn’t.
One baby she believed she could cope with. She’d have to get a nanny, but she made decent money when she could fly. It would be hard to be a single mother, but at a stretch she would cope. Women did, all around the world, every day. Why couldn’t she?
But knowing she was carrying twins had changed things, had tipped the balance. What kind of life could she offer them? What hope had she of being able to afford their care while she worked and what hope of giving them the family life they deserved? Would they grow up resenting her because she could not give them the lifestyle they would have had with their father?
But marriage without love? The one thing she feared more than anything.
How could he ask it of her?
They sat enjoying their entrées; a rare kind of peace descendedon them as if Rafe too was deep in thought, while the vibrant waterfront buzzed below and the warm breeze tugged at her hair. Violin music drifted up from the main restaurant downstairs, gypsy music that was filled with life and hope and passion.
The first hint of the helicopter making its
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