The Italian's Love-Child: The Italian's Stolen Bride / The Marchese's Love-Child / The Italian's Marriage Demand

‘Do you want us to pick you up at the airport?’

‘No. I’ll catch a taxi, save the hassle. Don’t worry about my mother’s visit, Skye. I’ll sort it out when I get home. Okay?’

She sighed, relieved to have this assurance, too.

‘One thing,’ he added in a determined tone. ‘We are not postponing our wedding for anything so don’t even think about it. We love each other and we’re going to get married on our agreed date.’

‘That’s good to hear,’ she said, smiling over the fervour in his voice, though she was no longer sure it was a good idea to marry before Christmas. Flavia Peretti had raised issues that had made her feel very selfish about maintaining her small safe world with Luc.

‘I’ll let you go and tend to Matt now,’ he said in a softer tone. ‘Be with you soon.’

‘Yes.’ Bye for now.’

‘Love you.’

‘Me, too.’

She did love him. But she was beginning to realise how much Luc’s commitment to her was costing him and how blind she had been to that, only seeing that his family circle could hurt her. And Matt. It still could, but if she believed enough in Luc’s love for her, wasn’t there room for giving some kind of reconciliation a trial?

Watching his mother with Matt this afternoon…it had made her wish her own mother was still alive, taking pleasure in the grandchild she’d only known as a baby. Death was something no one could control—a final parting from which there was no turning back. Flavia Peretti had experienced that with Roberto. But the separation from Luc could be bridged if the prejudice against a non-Italian bride was set aside, and the pride of Luc and his father did not remain an ongoing battle-ground.

Big ifs.

And Skye knew she was right at the centre of them. Moving from her own stance on Luc’s family was absolutely essential if a truce was to be called. The big question was… and her heart quailed at facing it…how was she going to cope if she was continually made to feel not good enough for Luc? Good intentions could be very quickly undermined.

She had a bad night.

The next day wasn’t much better, her tired mind still fretting over what should be done. At least every hour that dragged by was one hour less of being alone with her dilemma. It was a huge relief when Luc finally arrived home and wrapped her in his strong embrace, making her feel warm and secure in his love.

Matt, of course, was still full of his new Nonna over dinner, questioning Luc incessantly about his life as a child, learning that he’d had a younger brother and immediately deciding he’d like a brother, too. Which made Luc smile and cock a quizzical eyebrow at Skye.

‘Maybe in another year or two, Matt,’ she said, knowing Luc wanted at least one more child—one whose life he would be aware of right from the beginning, no missing out on anything. ‘But your Daddy and I can’t guarantee a brother. It might be a sister instead,’ she cautioned.

‘Oh!’ He thought about it. ‘That’s all right, Mummy. I like girls, too.’

And no doubt they liked him, Skye thought. He was like Luc in lots of ways. Which made her feel all the more guilty about depriving Flavia Peretti of her grandchild, as well as her Luciano. She was glad when Matt’s bedtime came and he was finally tucked in for the night, giving her and Luc the privacy needed to discuss the situation.

Luc wanted to sweep her off to bed but her need to talk first was paramount in Skye’s mind, so she insisted they sit over coffee at the kitchen table. Which was not to his liking. His dark frown and suspicious eyes drove an instant flutter of apprehension through her heart.

‘You’re letting my mother’s visit affect what we’d normally do,’ he growled.

She looked at him in eloquent appeal. ‘I can’t discount it, Luc. Please?’

She made coffee and they sat, but the aggressive energy pouring from him made it difficult for Skye to know where to start. She felt Luc was going to pounce on anything she said and tear it apart. Did the harmony in their relationship depend on having no contact with his family? Or was this all her fault for making such a huge issue of it? It was impossible to forget the scars of the past, but weren’t she and Luc strong enough together now to rise above them?

‘My own mother is gone, Luc,’ she began nervously. ‘On my side there’s no family, and no closely connected community forming an extension of family, either. There’s only me and Matt.’

‘And me,’ Luc shot at her grimly.

‘I’m not doubting that, Luc,’ she hastily assured him.

‘You’re drawing lines, Skye.’

It forced her to choose her words more carefully. ‘I just meant…you still have…other people who care about you.’

‘Not so I’ve noticed,’ he snapped, his face growing harder, his eyes angry.

‘Because I haven’t given you the chance to be with them,’ she rushed out. ‘I’ve been a coward, not facing up to your life, wanting to be safe in my own little world.’

‘You have every right to want to feel safe,’ he fiercely argued. ‘As for chances, my father could have chosen any amount of chances to invite us into his home.’

Skye took a deep breath. ‘Well, there might be a chance now.’

‘According to my mother?’ he flashed at her with deep scepticism. ‘Along with her request to postpone our wedding? Can’t you see she’s dangling out an acceptance of you to stop what she and my father want to stop?’

‘They can’t stop us from getting married if we don’t let them, Luc. I trust you on that. Can’t you trust me?’

‘It’s taken me so long to convince you it’s right for us…’

‘And it is. I know it is. But I’m now feeling wrong about the way we’re doing it.’

His jaw clenched. Skye sensed he was about to erupt from his chair, but the moment of shimmering violence passed. ‘Why?’ he bit out.

She shook her head over the realisation that her fears had driven Luc to an extreme stand, and he was not prepared to back down from it. He hadn’t spelled out that in marrying her without his parents’ blessing, he’d make himself an exile, but she had blindly accepted that sacrifice from him, accepted taking him away from others, too. She’d actually been intensely relieved that she didn’t have to worry about them any more. Selfish relief.

‘Your mother loves you, Luc,’ she said quietly.

His head jerked aside as though he didn’t want to be hit by that. He grimaced and turned his gaze back to her, eyes blazing with resolution. ‘I won’t have you hurt again, Skye. In all but law you’re my wife now. My first allegiance is to you.’

She took another deep breath and said, ‘Your parents didn’t know how deeply you felt about me. They made a mistake.’

‘That’s putting it kindly,’ he mocked, still not giving an inch.

‘I’m not saying this to test you, Luc. I’ve thought about nothing else since your mother came.’ She tried a smile to lighten the tension. ‘As you just said, I’m your wife now in everything but the legality. Does it really matter if we postpone going to a registry office until after Christmas?’

His responding smile carried a load of irony. ‘Did my mother promise you a big Italian wedding if we did?’

‘No, she didn’t.’

‘Did she say if you loved me, you’d ensure that I come home for Christmas Day for the sake of family feeling?’

She sighed, regretting the huge barriers she had built. ‘It wasn’t like that, Luc. Your mother was very distressed at the rift that has developed. Can’t you just accept that without colouring it as more deception?’

‘And if it is deception?’ he bored in.

‘We’ll know soon enough, won’t we? Christmas is only five weeks away.’

‘Don’t count on my mother’s peace-plan going through. I doubt my father knows about it. And I will not be going to Bellevue Hill again without his personal invitation.’

This was said with so much harsh pride, it made Skye wonder how much Luc himself had contributed to the rift. Her reaction to the deception with the photos and her acute awareness of being considered an undesirable in the Peretti family circle had certainly played its part. Given Luc’s reaction to what she was saying now, perhaps he had drawn battle-lines with his father that couldn’t be crossed by either side.

‘He is your father, Luc,’ she reminded him.

‘No father has the right to do what he did.’

The vehemence in his voice left no room for argument. Besides which, what he said was true. His father had abrogated Luc’s right to choose whether to know or deny his own child. It was a monstrous thing to do.

‘What about your mother, then?’ she asked. ‘Must she pay for your father’s decisions? She didn’t know, Luc. She didn’t know until Easter, when you didn’t turn up for Easter Sunday.’

‘But she doesn’t turn up until now, trying to put off our wedding,’ he pointed out, no softening at all in his expression.

It’s gone too far, Skye thought, feeling totally miserable about it. ‘I said she could come again, Luc,’ she confessed on a heavy sigh. ‘Matt was so excited about having a grandmother…’

‘It’s okay. Stop worrying about it, Skye.’

He was on his feet, coming around the table to her. She felt too drained to move, too torn by the conflicts that still raged around them to achieve any peace of mind. Luc stepped behind her chair and his hands slid over her shoulders and started a gentle massage.

‘None of this is your fault,’ he murmured, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, caring for her uppermost in his tone now. ‘Try to relax, Skye. If my mother visits again…just let it be. Matt is her grandson. So long as the connection is good for him, no harm done.’

The tension in her shoulders eased under his expert manipulation. ‘What about you, Luc? You’re her son.’

‘I’ll welcome her if I’m with you and Matt. But don’t be surprised if she never comes again. My father might forbid it. In which case…’

‘Forbid?’ She shook her head over the harsh concept.

‘It’s an old-fashioned Italian marriage,’ Luc said wryly. ‘Love, honour, obey…’

‘Is that how you think, too? That you have the right to forbid me to do something you disapprove of?’

‘No. I don’t own you, Skye. I don’t see marriage as a form of ownership. Nor do I see parenthood that way. There comes a time when you have to let a child choose his own path, even against what you think are his best interests.’

‘What if your father honestly thought how he acted was in your best interests, Luc?’

‘It doesn’t excuse hurting you as he did.’

‘He didn’t know me.’

Caring too much about one person could make you blind to others, Skye thought. And protecting the life you know can make you blind to others’ lives, too. It was what she’d been doing.

Luc’s thumbs pressed harder into her muscles as he said, ‘He didn’t try to know you.’

Anger again.

Anger built on her anger at what had been done to her. Perhaps anger at himself, as well, for believing what he should never have believed, knowing her as intimately as he had. But that was far in the past now, and Skye didn’t want their future built on such a divisive foundation.

‘What if he tries now, Luc?’

The movement of his hands halted. He dragged in a deep breath and exhaled it very slowly. ‘Let’s not talk about my father, Skye. It’s you I need.’

The raw need in his voice compelled her to rise from her chair and give him whatever he wanted of her. He instantly caught her to him, one arm sweeping around her waist, one hand lifting to her face to stroke away any worry lines. His eyes searched hers with a searing intensity.

‘I love you. Don’t let anything come between us.’

The passionate plea carried the scars of their past experience, and Skye knew intuitively they’d been brought to throbbing life again by the intrusion of his family. She curled her arms around his neck and kissed him, not wanting him to feel any uncertainty about her love. That was strong and true, always had been, always would be.

They went to bed and made love long into the night.

Skye did not doubt Luc’s commitment to her for a second.

But not even the secure comfort of being this close to him could banish the sense of wrongs which still had to be righted.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘PLEASE… sit with me.’

Flavia Peretti gestured to the two deck chairs on the small back verandah where Matt had led his Nonna to watch him kick the soccer ball around the backyard. Skye had hurried out to check there was no bird’s mess on either of them before Luc’s mother sat down. She had meant to leave her with her grandson, but it seemed too impolite to refuse such a direct request.

She sat, the old deck chair creaking as she did so, making her conscious of the huge difference between her living circumstances and that of the Peretti family. Everything about the cottage was old and shabby—she couldn’t afford better—though she’d brightened it up with colour where she could. Here on the verandah, the petunias she’d potted were in full bloom, looking very pretty. A cheap little garden, Skye thought, but one that gave her pleasure.

Oddly enough, in her three visits to the cottage, Luc’s mother had made no disdainful comment on Skye’s relatively poor circumstances. Nor did she now.

‘Matteo is a credit to you, Skye.’

Spoken with warm approval.

And actually using her first name.

Which made two firsts.

It was Flavia Peretti’s third visit and she was finally thawing from polite formality. Skye smiled. She didn’t mind basking in her son’s reflected glory. It was clearly difficult for Luc’s mother to release the prejudice she had held against her son’s non-Italian girlfriend and see the woman he loved.

‘My husband…’ Flavia gathered herself to look directly at Skye, a sad plea in her eloquent dark eyes. ‘He says my invitation for Christmas Day is enough. If Luciano won’t come, bringing you and our grandson, for my sake…’ She gestured helplessly.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Peretti.’

‘No… no… you have nothing to apologise for. It is we who must make up for what was done. But Maurizio… he has his pride. The father does not go to the son, you understand.’

‘I can’t say I do understand,’ Skye said ruefully.

‘You are not steeped in our traditions.’ A deep sigh was heaved. ‘Our marriage was an arranged one by our two families. That was how it was done. Maurizio came back to Italy for me and I came to Australia with him as his bride. He has been a good husband. And as a good father, he believed he was doing right by Luciano.’

Skye shook her head, seeing nothing right in what had been done to Luc and herself.

Flavia Peretti grimaced apologetically and rushed out an explanation. ‘He did not understand the attachment to you. How could it be so when you were not one of us? To Maurizio it was a bad distraction from what should be Luciano’s duty to the family. He asked Roberto to help and it was done. You were gone.’

‘It was a terrible thing to do, Mrs Peretti,’ Skye put in quietly.

‘You were… a modern Australian girl. And—’ she shrugged ‘—not a virgin.’

A heated protest sprang to Skye’s lips. ‘That doesn’t make me a woman who jumps into any man’s bed. I have only ever been with Luc.’

‘Please…’ Hands were raised in anguished appeal. ‘I did not mean to insult you. I was trying to explain why it did not seem so terrible to Maurizio. When he learned of your pregnancy, he did make generous provision for the child so you would never be in need. In his mind, Luciano should understand all these things.’

The clash of cultures, Skye thought, wondering if there was any real chance of finding any meeting ground.

‘A son should forgive his father a mistake which was made with his good at heart,’ was the next pleading argument. ‘Can you not speak to Luciano about this?’

‘Why don’t you speak to him yourself, Mrs Peretti?’

A weary roll of her eyes. ‘He is a man. If anyone can get past his pride, it will be you, the woman he loves, the woman for whom he is turning his back on his family.’

This last statement hit Skye hard.

Luc would undoubtedly call it emotional blackmail, yet there was too much truth in it for her to dismiss it out of hand. In the end, family was family and the blood connection ran deep. It didn’t go away, not even if one turned one’s back on it. The memories were always there.

* * *

As Luc drove his Ferrari into Skye’s street, a black limousine was turning the corner at the other end of the block.

His mother!

This was the third time she’d come without making any contact with him!

He put his foot on the accelerator in a burst of frustration, instinctively responding to the urge to chase her down and demand she stop bothering Skye. Only the sure knowledge that a confrontation between them would not achieve anything made him think better of going in pursuit. He slowed the car and pulled it in beside the kerb, thumping the driving wheel in anger as he switched off the engine.

The agreed wedding day was set for one week away. It was pointless to put it off until after Christmas. His father was never going to come around to accepting their marriage. He had made no attempt to arrange a private meeting with Luc at work. A reconciliation on Christmas day was definitely not on his drawing board.

And here was his mother meddling again!

Sure she probably wanted to see Matt—he was a wonderful grandchild for her—but it was Skye she was getting at, planting whatever seeds of dissension she could. Luc felt the difference each time she’d been; worries, tension, questions when there shouldn’t be any questions.

Today had been Matt’s last day at school for the year. As Luc alighted from his car, that time factor eased some of his own tension. There was no longer any need for Skye and Matt to stay at this house in Brighton-Le-Sands. No excuse not to come and live with him at Bondi. Next year another school could be found for Matt, close to wherever they bought a suitable home—certainly a lot more suitable than this cheap little rental cottage where Skye had insisted on staying all year, clinging to her independence.

Which might well have given his mother hope that Skye wasn’t completely committed to the marriage!

Luc strode across the street, setting his mind on a plan of action. He was not going to lose Skye now. No way. In fact, he’d help her start on packing her belongings tonight, sorting out what she wanted to keep and what could be given away to charity. Best to make the move to his apartment this weekend. That might stop his mother from sneaking visits behind his back.

He used the front door key Skye had given him and had no sooner stepped into the hallway than Matt came flying down it to meet him. ‘Nonna was here again, Daddy. You’ve just missed her,’ he cried, his happy face expecting Luc to feel both pleased and disappointed.

‘Well, she should have timed her visit better,’ he replied lightly, ruffling Matt’s hair to project some fun into the moment. ‘How was your last day at school?’

Skye was in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. She smiled at him as he came in with Matt but there was a strained look in her lovely blue eyes and she didn’t stop working to greet him beyond saying, ‘Hi!’ No hug. No kiss. A quick instruction to Matt. ‘Let your father sit down and relax before you talk his head off.’

There was a tight restraint about her that knotted Luc’s gut. He managed to drink the beer Matt brought him but it didn’t relax him, and for once, his son’s bright chatter did not give him joy. It took an act of will to respond to it. His gaze kept turning to Skye who just went ahead, preparing dinner, occasionally joining in the conversation, trying to act naturally as though nothing was wrong.

Luc wasn’t fooled. However, it was impossible to say anything in front of Matt. Their son was a complete innocent in all of this, and should be kept so, unless circumstances forced knowledge on him that had to be dealt with. Luc had the feeling those circumstances were gathering around them very ominously at the moment.

He silently railed against his father’s stubborn refusal to accept the woman he loved. Skye was everything he could possibly want in a wife. She had so many admirable attributes, far beyond her outer beauty. Was his mother seeing that now? Was she plotting to stop the marriage or was she beginning to recognise Skye’s qualities?

Matt was still enthusiastic about his Nonna so there couldn’t have been any unpleasantness between his new grandmother and his mother. Not in front of him. Yet something was seriously disturbing Skye. Luc could sense the anxiety behind her every look at him.

He forced restraint on himself all through dinner and the cleaning up afterwards. As soon as they’d bade Matt goodnight and switched the light off in his bedroom, Luc drew Skye straight into hers, closing the door behind them, wanting to close the door on anything that might separate them. He wrapped her in his arms, kissing her with all the deep passion she evoked in him, relief heightening his need for her as he felt her uninhibited response.

This, at least, was right.

It had always been right.

And she was as eager to strip off his clothes as he was to get rid of hers. He loved her. He took her to bed, determined on showing her how utterly and completely he did. She was so incredibly beautiful; the silky softness of her long glorious hair, the lush curves of her that were all woman, the smooth litheness of her legs, winding so possessively around him as he revelled in the sweet fire of her sexuality, knowing she was craving his.

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