Miracle for the Girl Next Door (17 page)

Since he couldn’t hold her in his arms right now, he decided this would be a good time to tell her what Isabella had written in her e-mail. He already knew what Clara’s response would be. She was a peacemaker. How else would she have survived from birth with a twin like Silvio?

Valentino’s relationship with her brother still needed work. It would make her happy if he found a way to ease the tension. He’d have to think about that one.

“Tino?” she called out some time later. “Forgive me for interrupting you, but the driver’s going the wrong way. He should have turned north.”

“That’s true,
if
we were headed for the villa.”

“But we’re not?”

“I thought we’d do something different.”

For once she looked baffled. “Are you taking us to your old house on the lake?”

“No,” he drawled.

She made a sound in her throat. “To the farm?”

“That depends on which one.”

Silence fell between them before her gorgeous eyes rounded. “You bought the Brunello farm—”

His lips twitched. “Since the day we walked around the property, it’s been known as the Casali place.”

“Oh, darling—”

They were driving up to the farmhouse now. Her head swiveled around. “There must be a dozen trucks parked outside. My whole family’s here! Whose car is that?”

“Isabella’s. She brought Papa. He won’t be able to stay long, but he came because he loves you.”

“I feel the same way about him, Tino. He raised you as his own. I love him for that.”

Valentino loved her for saying it and believed it. “They’ve all planned the celebration we couldn’t have on our wedding day. Welcome home,
innamorata
.”

She buried her face in her hands. In the next breath she’d broken down in quiet sobs from too much emotion. Valentino could relate.

He heard the van door open. Instead of the driver standing there, it was Silvio. His gaze shot to Clara, then passed to Valentino. For those few seconds he sensed her brother felt unsure of himself.

Taking advantage of the unexpected moment Valentino said, “Why don’t you help her in the house while I talk to the driver?” He undid his seatbelt and climbed out of the van in order to give them some time alone.

Noise from the house reached his ears. Only the sounds of a big, gregarious family enjoying themselves could fill the air like that. By marrying Clara, he had entrée into their exclusive club. He’d never thought this kind of happiness could be his.

“Clara? This is for you.” Bianca handed her a gaily wrapped gift.

“Another present? Thank you.”

“Don’t let Valentino open it,” she whispered, kissing her cheek. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

Bianca, whose morning sickness seemed to be letting up, was the last of Clara’s family to walk out the door. They’d brought the food and had done the dishes. Her mother had to be the one who’d made up their bed.

After her sister had gone, Clara, still seated on the couch, looked around the living room. She felt sated with food no longer forbidden to her. The wedding presents had been piled high on the coffee table. She couldn’t wait to open them, but exhaustion had caught up with her. Tomorrow would be soon enough to dig in.

Seven o’clock wasn’t late, but, having just gotten out of the hospital, she was ready for bed and knew Valentino was, too. A little while ago she’d seen him step outside with Silvio. She couldn’t help but wonder how they were getting along. Maybe it was a good sign that her husband hadn’t come back in yet, but it couldn’t be good for him. He’d already been on his feet too long.

On her way to the bedroom with Bianca’s gift, her gaze wandered around. Valentino had arranged for the interior of the house to be painted an off-white. He’d had it furnished with enough things for them to get by on. In a quiet aside he told her that, as soon as she was well enough, he expected her to decorate it the way she wanted. “Buy whatever else you want to make this
our
home,
piccola
.”

Valentino was a rare man. It frightened her how much she loved him.

After she’d prepared for bed, she opened the present. Inside the tissue lay a black nightgown with lace straps. Definitely decadent.

When she’d asked Dr. Arno about that he’d said, “Two weeks and not before!” That was still nine days away. She
smiled to herself before hiding it in the bottom of the drawer under some other clothes. Then she got in bed.

In a minute she saw Valentino’s silhouette in the doorway. “We’ve got a slight problem,
piccola
.”

Her heart skipped in worried reaction. “Silvio?”

“No. Amazingly enough he thanked me in a choked-up voice and we talked farming. I told him I would need his advice on how to go about getting started outside. He has offered his services. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Contentment washed over her. She let out a relieved sigh. “Neither did I. Come to bed.”

“That’s the problem. In the hospital I would have sold my soul to be able to hold you. Now that I can in the privacy of our own bedroom, I’m telling you it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Yes, it would. We’re both too tired.”

“That’s how much you know,” he muttered.

“I’m wearing the same robe I wore at the villa.”

“You think that protects you?” He started getting ready for bed. “Don’t you realize how enticing you are when you’re buttoned up from hem to neck?” he called out from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth. “You might as well be wearing a sign that says ‘warning—to proceed beyond this point could give you a heart attack’.”

Clara laughed so hard it made her incision hurt.

When he finally climbed under the covers, they both lay on their backs. It was the most comfortable position for them. She reached out to touch his arm. He caressed hers. When his fingers came in contact with her graft, the movement stopped.

She heard Valentino suck in his breath. “Now I know why the good doctor left it in. He’s a very wise man. You’re safe from me for a while longer.
Ti amo
, Clarissima.”

“
Ti amo
,” she whispered back. It was liberating to be able to tell him
I love you
.

“What do you think, Papa? You’re a connoisseur.” Valentino had just dropped off Clara at the clinic for a checkup. Now was the perfect time to come to the apartment while he waited. He suggested the two of them sit at the dining-room table to enjoy a drink.

His father took another swallow. “It has a sweet bite. Very unusual.”

“Do you feel it’s good enough for your Rosa clientele to add it to the drinks menu?”

Luca eyed his son intently. “I didn’t know you’d developed a taste for limoncello.”

“In the last month I’ve developed a taste for several new things.”

His father smiled at him. “Marriage obviously agrees with you. I knew it would once you found the right woman. That’s the trick.”

That
was
the trick.

“You’re one of the lucky few who married your best friend and fell in love with her, too. That doesn’t happen to everyone. I’ve a feeling it will last forever. It’s a rare occurrence, just like this tangy liqueur.” He lifted the wine glass and smelled the bouquet before emptying it.

“You’ve hit on the right word, Papa,” Valentino mused aloud. Clara was like the drink she’d created. She had her own tang, her own flavor. His giving wife was no imitation of anyone else.

“Who makes it? This doesn’t smell or taste like it came from Sorrento. It’s sweeter.”

“Your ‘nose’ never fails you. This comes from a local source.”

“Ah… I knew it.”

Among the traits he admired about his father was his insistence on sourcing local produce even if it was more expensive. He paid his staff more and gave them longer holidays.

These were the reasons he was in debt, but, on the other hand, these were the reasons the staff had stayed loyal to him. Giorgio had confided that Lisa had tried to bribe him several
times to come and work for her restaurant, but she’d underestimated her brother’s influence.

Luca stirred in his chair. “Do I know them?”

“Yes. Quite well, in fact.”

He looked surprised. “They’ve never approached me.”

Valentino smiled inwardly. “No. They wouldn’t.”

“What’s their brand name?”

“Limoncello Clarissima.”

His father blinked. “How unusual, yet beautiful… Reminds me of your wife. I hope she can one day give you a child because you’ll have the most beautiful children around. But more importantly, I have to tell you that you’ll make the best kind of father.”

A lump lodged in Valentino’s throat. “If such a miracle happens and it’s a son, Clara has already decided we’ll name him Valentino Casali in honor of your heritage.”

“Well…” His father had to clear his throat several times. “Where did you say these people live?”

This was fun. “Right here in Monta Correnti.”

“Why don’t you bring them around to the restaurant tomorrow afternoon or the next afternoon and we’ll talk about serving it for a trial period. I can’t guarantee anything, of course.”

“Of course,” Valentino echoed.

He couldn’t wait to get back to the farm to tell her. The long wait was finally over. Tonight would be their real wedding night. His papa had just made it possible for Valentino to give her a wedding present she’d never forget.

“About your idea for the tour-bus crowd. I think we should try it and see what happens.”

Elated, he got up to kiss his father on both cheeks, then disappeared out the door with the bottle. There was only a little liqueur left. Enough to celebrate her return to life.

Once he took off in the Ferrari, it didn’t take long to pull up
outside the clinic where she was getting her post-op checkup. He hurried down the hall to the dialysis department. To his frustration she hadn’t come out yet.

“She’s not here,” the receptionist called out. “She told me you were to meet her in the restaurant at the San Gallo hotel.”

“
Grazie
.”

He had to fight his disappointment that they couldn’t simply drive back to the farm. The San Gallo was the best five-star hotel in Monta Correnti and sat on a hill with its own lovely view. But it was always crowded, especially at this time of year when students and tourists were on spring break. Valentino didn’t want to face hordes of people right now. All he wanted was Clara.

“
Buon giorno
, Signor Casali,” the maître d’greeted him ten minutes later. “Congratulations on your marriage. I will give you a view table as soon as I can make the arrangements.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I’m looking for my wife. She asked me to meet her in here.”

He shook his head. “She hasn’t come. No reservation was made.”

Valentino took a deep breath. “I’ll check with the concierge.”

When he asked about her at the desk, the man said, “Signora Casali is in room 152. She’ll be happy to know you’ve come. She was most anxious. Here’s another key.”

Filled with alarm that something had gone wrong at her checkup and she’d decided to tell him over their meal, he took the card key and raced across the foyer to the stairs. By the time he could let himself in the room on the next floor, his anxiety bordered on terror for fear her kidney had suddenly stopped functioning.

“Clara?” he cried out after flinging the door open.

“
Caro
—” she called from the bathroom “—I thought you would be at your father’s longer.”

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You left the clinic without me. You’re
not
fine! I know you’re not.” He raced across the room to open the door, but it was locked.

Frantic, he pressed his forehead against it. “
Piccola
? Don’t shut me out.”

“I would never do that.”

He heard a click, then the door opened.

A barefooted woman stood before him. Except for her eyes that dazzled him with their green fire, nothing else was familiar. A new jasmine fragrance assailed him. Her dark hair was curly like a Gypsy’s. She was a vision in sheer black lace over alabaster.

Her seductive smile captivated him.

“You have permission to discover for yourself that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with me,
signore
.” She wound her soft arms around him and gave him a kiss to die for. “But first, why don’t you get out of these clothes? You’ve been my fantasy for years. Now I want the reality.”

Valentino couldn’t talk. He couldn’t breathe.

“Is that going to be a problem for the famous Valentino Casali?” she teased. “Because if it is, you’re in
real
trouble with your farmer wife.”