The Italian Surgeon's Secret Baby

Trying to reassure, not that he knew what he was comforting her about, he said softly, ‘Go on. I’ll take Aimee out to the family room. Promise I know what I’m doing.’

The tip of her tongue played with the corner of her mouth, tightening his groin again. Then she nodded and headed to the bathroom. Those loose trousers did nothing to hide the curves of her butt, nor the slimmest of waists. An hourglass figure finished off with full breasts that he’d tried not to let his gaze linger on when she’d held Aimee against them.

Aimee. Dragging his attention away from Elene he refocused, bending his arms slowly, bringing Aimee closer and closer until she was against his chest, wriggling like a worm on hot concrete. This was so different to holding Marco or Giulia. This was—parenthood with a capital P. He jerked. I really am Papà. Being a parent meant being involved with a woman, a need Sandy had permanently finished off. Though apparently life had other ideas for him.

Air whooshed out of his mouth, ruffling the curls on top of his daughter’s head. He dropped a kiss on them. ‘Let’s get you some dinner, little one.’ Elene might like a meal too. He was starving. Lunch had been a quick bite hours ago, between a hip replacement and a shoulder reconstruction.

After placing Aimee on the floor out of harm’s way, Mattia poured two glasses of Sangiovese, put one on the table for Elene and studied the contents of the fridge. Anna, his housekeeper, kept it well stocked and there was a prepared meal to reheat, but not enough for two. It’d do for tomorrow’s lunch. Tonight he’d make comfort food, using the pasta dough Anna had also prepared earlier. Elene deserved a little care and attention. That was some trip she’d undertaken with a toddler. For her friend. For him? Something about that deep sadness in her eyes suggested yes to both. Bet she was wondering what he’d do, and where that’d leave her.

Hell. He combed his fingers through his hair. As reality trickled into his brain he tried not to overthink things. They had a lot to process. But not tonight. Because Elene was tired, and lovely and gorgeous. Don’t forget the snippy woman behind that exhaustion. She wouldn’t have stayed back in Wellington while this softer, kinder version made the trip.

Checking Aimee was still happy playing with the coloured wooden blocks he’d given her, he set about putting together the ingredients for an Alfredo sauce. The clock boomed out eight o’clock. Half an hour had passed since he’d brought Aimee through here. Had Elene fallen asleep in the shower? Should he check on her? Entering the bathroom might bring back the more familiar version.

‘Sorry.’ Elene burst through the doorway, her chest rising and falling as though she’d run through the house. ‘That’s one powerful shower. I’ve probably used all your hot water, but it was worth it. All the aches gone, leaving me feeling normal again.’

She certainly looked it. Standing tall for someone so short, her face was relaxed for the first time since he’d discovered her in his waiting room, her gaze clear of worry; she looked alert. Hot and sexy normal. The spoon he stirred the sauce with clattered into the pot. This is Elene. She doesn’t do sexy. Not around him, any rate. She did once.

With effort he rolled a shoulder. ‘There’s a glass of Sangiovese on the table. One of Italy’s best secrets.’ Getting back on track was essential. For his sanity, for the days ahead when they’d no doubt be battling over childcare issues. She’d once called him a fly-by-night. Well, Miss Lowe, I’m going to prove how wrong you were. He had not liked her contemptuous opinion of him, even when he’d understood she was trying to protect Danielle.

Not that he’d deny he’d spent a year living loosely after his fiancée, Sandy, had stolen from his charity and attempted to bring his esteemed family into disrepute by accusing him of taking the funds and setting her up to take the fall. Except Sandy was the one to languish in jail. His family had pushed him to take a year off and go live a little, put his mistake behind him. He’d gone reluctantly, the guilt heavy, but it seemed his parents knew what they were doing. New Zealand, with its great outdoors culture and the easy lifestyle, had been liberating and exciting. Yet from the day he’d landed back on Italian soil he’d been determined never to cause a ripple of trouble for his family again and got on with achieving his interrupted goals. With the exception of one—loving a woman enough to marry her and have bambini. His gaze drifted to Elene, now savouring the wine.

‘Delicious.’ Elene gave him a smile that slid under his skin as easily as cream over hot pie. ‘I haven’t had a Sangiovese since I was last in Italy.’

‘How long ago was that?’ Might as well learn as much as possible while she was in a good mood.

‘Three years. I worked at a hospital in Firenze most of my stay. Loved every moment.’ Another sip, and those full lips were momentarily rich, dark red.

Mattia’s belly tightened. He took a large gulp from his glass. Should not have brought her here. Oh, yes, and what was he supposed to have done when she had nowhere to go? Another mouthful and he reached for the bottle. This was going to be a long night, followed by some long days, and more nights. ‘You had a licence to practice here?’

‘I did, and I’ve kept it up. Easier than having to redo it further down the track if I decided to revisit my family.’

That might come in handy for the future. ‘Your mother’s Italian, right?’ He vaguely remembered something about Elene’s heritage after she’d spoken to him in Italian once in Theatre.

Elene nodded. ‘When she was two her parents moved to New Zealand. Years later she met my dad, who owned a vineyard with his brother in Masterton. Now one of my younger sisters is the winemaker and my parents are happy dishing out advice and being grandparents.’

Grandparents? To his daughter? How did they feel about Elene bringing Aimee over here to meet him and his family? He wasn’t asking. There’d been enough shocks for one day. Time to relax and enjoy dinner—and the company. ‘So you’ll be a pasta fan, then.’

‘Duh.’ Her deliberate eye-roll made him laugh.

‘What about all that lamb and beef Kiwis seem to eat by the ton? You enjoy those too?’

‘What’s not to like about roast lamb leg or medium rare sirloin steak?’ She grinned.

His stomach flipped. He’d never seen her grin before. Better for him if he didn’t again. For some inexplicable reason that grin affected him deeply. It was cheeky, friendly, normal around him. This was not the Elene he thought he knew.

Elene glanced behind him. ‘Your pot’s boiling over.’

Whipping around, he rescued the pot before too big a mess was made on the stove top. Distracted, that was the problem. ‘What about food for Aimee?’

‘I’ve got that covered. I brought enough to get through the first days.’ She was beside him, holding up a sealed packet with a teddy bear with oats in its paw on the front. ‘Just need a small jug to heat this up.’

‘I’ll have to get her onto pasta quick-smart.’ Handing Elene what she required, Mattia returned to concentrating on the pasta sauce. Burning it in front of her was not an option. Nor was letting the water boil over again.

Silence fell between them, occasionally broken by Aimee’s mutterings as she placed block on top of block, only to have them tumble to the floor time after time. Patiently she’d start again, until Elene knelt down to straighten the stack after each placement. Finally all the blocks were used up and Aimee shrieked with delight, clapping her hands wildly and knocking the stack over.

Mattia watched them together. Two very different heads bent over the blocks. One with straight auburn hair, the other black and curly. Chalk and cheese. Elene and Aimee. ‘Why did Danielle choose Aimee for a name?’

That auburn head flipped up, a challenge in her gaze. ‘You don’t like her name?’

‘Did I say that? I was wondering if there was a connection to someone Danielle had been close to, someone special.’ He liked the name even if it wasn’t Italian.

She nodded. ‘Danielle was raised by her Grandma Aimee.’

Mattia nodded. ‘That’s nice. Middle name?’

Defiance filled her eyes. ‘Elene.’

‘So she’s got an Italian name. I like that. Surname?’ Shut up. Mattia snatched up the pot and drained the water from the pasta. And waited for the explosion.

* * *

Elene knew Mattia must be bursting with questions, but right now she needed to take it easy. They’d been together for only a couple of hours and there were ordinary things to do, like feeding Aimee and playing with her until that pent-up energy wore off. Deliberately or not, he’d lured her into a false sense of security. Concentration was required so as not to miss anything.

‘Don’t tell me it’s Lowe,’ Mattia growled impatiently.

Her hackles rose in an instant. ‘What would be wrong with that?’ Her father would’ve been proud for Aimee to have the family name.

‘Nothing, I suppose.’

‘You suppose? Oh, buster, you suppose nothing. You haven’t got a clue what’s happened since you left Wellington. What Danielle wanted for her daughter. What she suffered, knowing she’d never see Aimee grow up. All you’re worried about is a name.’ Where did those damned tears come from? She slashed at her cheeks and reached for Aimee to hug her tight, only Mattia was there, holding out a paper towel for her to wipe her face before he picked up his daughter.

‘Tell me more so I am clued up.’

Reaching for her wine, Elene drew deep breaths. She and Danielle had tried to prepare for this moment, but it was always going to be difficult explaining her friend’s reasons for refusing to tell Mattia about his child, and her own fear that he’d want full custody of his daughter.

‘Elene?’ He said her name softly, touching her deeply, questioning her determination not to fall in love again. ‘I understand talking about her must be difficult.’

She nodded. ‘Did Danielle ever mention her childhood to you?’ She’d be surprised if she had.

Topping up her glass, Mattia said, ‘Not a word.’

‘Her mother ran away when she was three and her father brought her up. Make that dragged her up. There was little money, a continuous stream of women who were unkind to her, and she had few friends. At fourteen she got pregnant and her father tried to force her to have an abortion. Somehow, and I’m not sure of the details here, she avoided the termination, only to have her father make her sign the baby over for adoption.’

Mattia swore. ‘That’s cruel. How did he get away with it? It shouldn’t have been his call to make.’

‘He threatened to turn Danielle out on the street if she didn’t do it. At fourteen, with no other family for support, she had no choice. The social welfare system let her down. Apparently her father charmed them into believing Danielle wanted to give her baby away.’ Elene stared at the carpet. ‘I don’t think she ever got over that.’

‘There are some real monsters out there.’

‘There are. I’ve been very lucky.’ Elene looked him in the eye. An explanation of her own wouldn’t go amiss. ‘The man who conceived me didn’t want me but the man I’ve called Dad all my life more than made up for him.’

‘More cruelty. I’m sorry to hear your stories. You and Danielle would’ve understood each other very well.’

‘We did.’ Needing to get Danielle’s story over with, Elene continued. ‘She intended letting you know about the pregnancy, but kept putting off the moment. She was so happy, so engrossed in having a baby you’d think she’d want to share the joy, but it was like she was holding it all to herself for herself.’ Another mouthful of wine, another deep breath. ‘Then the cancer diagnosis came and you didn’t get a look-in.’

‘She was afraid I’d take the baby away?’

Elene leapt in to negate that hurt. ‘Not because she truly believed you were capable of such cruelty. She wanted every minute she could with her baby without having to fight for the two of them. Not involving you from the beginning was a by-product of her past. I don’t think she ever trusted any man to look out for her.’

‘Thank you for that. Danielle once told me you were the only person she felt completely safe about telling the things that mattered.’ Mattia looked thoughtful.

Get it over with. ‘Aimee Hicks-Ricco,’ she told Mattia, watching for his reaction. ‘The Ricco part yet to be confirmed by you.’

Mattia stared at her as if his last chance of escape had vanished. All the colour drained from his cheeks.

Guilt sneaked up on Elene unexpectedly. She had whacked him over the head with this. ‘I’m sorry. It’s hard, you know?’

‘Yes, I do. Very hard.’ His stunned gaze dropped to Aimee and ever so slowly a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite recognise crept into his expression. Hope? Longing? She waited quietly.

Mattia finally turned back to her. ‘Hicks-Ricco. Aimee will always be aware of her mother. I like that.’

On hearing her name, Aimee banged a fist on her father’s chin. ‘Ma-ma-ma-ma.’

Elene sighed with relief. He wasn’t denying the obvious, had accepted the truth far quicker than she’d given him credit for. ‘I understand you’re full of questions, but can we leave them for now? At least until Aimee’s fed and gone down for the night. Please?’ Now she was begging, and she hadn’t begged since she ran away from her ex. Craig hadn’t taken any notice so maybe Mattia wouldn’t either. But since Aimee came into her life there was no end to the things she would do to get what the little girl needed. Except give her up.

Mattia was staring at her, not in a bad way, nor one that made her sit up with hope, just neutral, as though seeking answers without verbalising the questions. Finally, he nodded. ‘I agree.’

Phew. She headed for the microwave that was regularly beeping the message that the jug of oats was ready. ‘You’ve got milk?’

‘Here.’ With Aimee in one arm, he deftly opened the fridge to retrieve the cardboard container and pass it to her. ‘Cutlery in that drawer to your right.’

How domestic—if bobbing on the top of a tsunami could be called homely. Getting through the coming weeks in this civilised fashion would be ideal. She’d try to keep her best game face on. Falling for Mattia’s charms—those she’d seen him turn on other women, if not her—would create more problems, not less. He liked to control everything and everyone around him. Had he always been like that? Or was it a result of a past relationship?

She’d had the controlling partner, and it had taken her parents’ and Danielle’s support and a lot of courage to leave him. Craig had made it hard, swearing undying love while at the same time demanding her money, dictating her dress style, even her work hours. Everything to suit him. But once he’d started trying to keep her family and friends away she’d packed up her belongings and sneaked out of the sterile apartment Craig owned and into the cottage at the back of her parents’ house until she was ready to branch out and buy her own home.

It’d been crippling, not being able to decide which outfit to wear or what to eat for breakfast, and without Danielle and her family she might never have found the courage to start down the path to freedom. She was not about to put herself into the hands of another controlling man. Which meant she and Mattia were destined to never be more than buddies because he liked to keep everything going his way.

While feeding Aimee, Elene watched Mattia put the finishing touches to the sauce for their pasta which, if the pleased expression on his face when he sampled it was anything to go by, he’d cooked to al dente. He was at home in the kitchen, didn’t have any qualms about cooking dinner or cleaning up as he went. A self-contained man.

‘You look after this place yourself?’

‘No, I cheat. You’ll meet Anna tomorrow. She cleans up after me and makes some meals. Be warned, she adores bambini and will want to spoil Aimee. There’s a small apartment on the ground floor where she lives.’

He declined to look after his home? Like he didn’t put in long hours at the hospital?

‘We can handle that. Aimee loves nothing better. My mum and dad care for her some days when I’m at work, and she can’t get enough of them. To counter that she goes to a crèche three days a week, which I admit to feeling guilty about.’

‘What else can you do? You’re the equivalent of a working mum.’ Mattia was plating up dinner and her stomach was sitting up to attention. Aeroplane food had not been much fun.

‘That smells wonderful.’ She wiped Aimee’s chin before placing her back on the floor by the blocks. The equivalent of a working mum? That stung, but it was true. She was the closest thing to a mother Aimee had right now and, while she’d always have that role, it was yet to be decided if it would be full-time or the days when Mattia was too busy to be with his daughter. Eat, stop worrying over what you haven’t discussed yet. Food would shut up both her stomach and her head for a while.

The fragrance wafting up from her plate had nothing on the flavour exploding across her tongue. ‘You’ll have a battle on your hands if you think you can get me to leave your house before I head back home.’ She’d found it in her to tease this man? The pasta must be even better than she thought.

‘The day I put boiled potatoes and cheese sauce in front of you will be the message to pack.’

‘The day you do that I’ll bake lamb roast with all the trimmings.’ If Mattia hadn’t been smiling she might’ve worried he wasn’t pulling her leg. He needn’t worry. She’d start looking for a hotel tomorrow.

‘The battle lines have been drawn.’ He smiled to take the sting out of his words.

Elene struggled not to stare at those lips, winding up her imagination in ways she’d denied for a long time. Lips that might trail over her skin, leaving her wired and ready. Her libido shot into life, wanting more from Mattia. Ah, hello? You’re waking up after a long drought because of Mattia? This was one diversion she did not need, or want. But his kiss would be like no other.

Her mouthful of wine went down the wrong way and she choked, then had to put up with the embarrassment of having her back slapped with one enormous—and warm—hand. It would be too easy to lean back into that unexpected gentleness and close her eyes. She sat forward, took another, more careful sip from her glass. ‘Thank you.’

‘Eat, relax. I won’t hassle you with any more questions tonight.’ To prove it, Mattia became intent on enjoying his pasta.

While worrying about that, Elene was struggling to keep her eyes open, despite the tasty food. The wine wasn’t helping keep her awake, but she’d earned it. It was good to sit back and take a load off her feet, and her mind. But she couldn’t get too comfortable. She had to stay awake long enough to put Aimee to bed when she was ready, and that looked like being a while away yet.

Mattia stood and cleared their plates, brought a bowl of enormous strawberries to the table.

Then Aimee looked up and threw a block across the floor, followed by a cry that had to be heard back in town. Another block followed the first and more cries filled the room.

‘Here we go. Meltdown time.’ At least it hadn’t happened mid-flight. That would’ve been awkward.

Mattia was staring at Aimee as though he couldn’t believe what was going on.

‘Your niece and nephew don’t have good old crying matches?’ Elene reached down to lift Aimee into her arms, only to get belted on the nose with a flying fist. ‘Ouch.’ Her eyes filled at the pain. ‘Careful, missy.’

The noise intensified. Aimee’s little mouth was wide open, her eyes ferocious slits above her red cheeks.

‘Shh, sweetheart.’ Elene bounced her on her hip.

Aimee wasn’t having anything to do with it. Her fists were flying and the crying changed to deep sobbing, tugging at Elene’s heart with each gasp.

‘Want me to heat some milk?’ Mattia asked.

‘You can try, but I suspect it’s going to take some time to get her to quieten down. I can’t complain since she never cried the whole trip.’

Surprisingly, Mattia’s mouth twitched. ‘Saving it for me, were you, little one?’ He ran a hand over Aimee’s head.

‘I’ll take her to the bedroom and leave you in peace.’

‘Give her to me. I’ll walk around the back yard for a while, see if that distracts her enough to quieten down.’ Mattia stood with his arms out.

Elene gaped. The man was offering to take a crying toddler and try to soothe her? Seemed she knew nothing about him. ‘If you’re sure?’ Already she was handing Aimee over to those large, safe hands, the relief enormous. She didn’t know if she had it in her to walk and talk with Aimee now, for what could be hours. ‘I’ll take over when you’ve had enough. This might go on for a long time.’ He’d soon be sick of the crying and kicking and want shot of Aimee.

‘I’ll manage.’ His arms were cradling his daughter, rocking her slowly back and forth as he began striding across the kitchen. ‘You heat the milk, eat some strawberries and make yourself some tea if you like. I’ll be outside.’

The neighbours were going to love that. ‘If you’re certain.’ But she was talking to herself, alone in Mattia’s kitchen, the crying muffled behind the closed door. She should be glad to have someone to help with Aimee, but she felt as though she were stranded on top of a rock with the tide racing in. Could they make joint custody work?

Nearly an hour later the world became quiet. Elene went outside to take Aimee off Mattia to put her to bed, but she was wide awake, smiles having replaced the crying. ‘You’re supposed to fall asleep now.’

‘Why don’t you go to bed? If you give me a jumpsuit or whatever it is you call night attire for toddlers, I can put Aimee down when she’s ready. She’s going to outlast you by quite some time,’ Mattia said.

It was tempting. So, so tempting. But she was meant to be caring for Aimee, not Mattia. Not yet.

‘Let it go, Elene. You’re exhausted, and staying up any longer isn’t going to help anyone.’

‘You’re right,’ she capitulated.

It wasn’t until she was digging through the case for Aimee’s clothes that it dawned on her that Mattia would be bringing Aimee in here while she was in bed. So what? She’d be out of it. It wasn’t as if the man would have his wicked way with her. And that was not disappointment lapping at her periphery. Besides, the loose-fitting cotton PJs she’d shortly pull on would turn any red-blooded man off in a flash. Yeah, she could stop worrying on that score.

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