The Costanzo Baby Secret Read Online Free Page B

“Hardly.”
    “That’s a relief. For a moment, I was afraid I might be a good-time girl who danced on the table after one beer.”
    “I’ve never known you to drink beer. You prefer good champagne, and never more than a glass or two at that. Nor have I ever seen you dance on a table.”
    “Then why the reluctance to humor me now?”
    “Medication and alcohol aren’t a good mix.”
    “I’m not taking any medication. Haven’t for more than two weeks.”
    “I see,” he said and ran a hand over his jaw. “In that case, I’ll make you a deal. Join me for dinner and I’ll crack open a bottle of your favorite vintage. It was always your favorite.”
    Not wanting to appear too eager, she pretended to give the matter some thought. “All right. Now that you mention it, I am rather hungry.”
    “ Eccellente . If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll let the cook know there’ll be two of us dining tonight.”
    “Of course.” She waited until he’d disappeared then, weak at the knees from his departing smile, she tottered to a pair of sun lounges upholstered in blue-and-white-striped cotton, and practically fell onto the one nearest.
    The view spread out in front of her was breathtaking. A big oval infinity pool, strategically placed for maximum dramatic effect, appeared to cling to the very rim of the cliff. An illusion, of course, brought about by the sort of complicated engineering feat only the very rich and famous could afford. But the profusion of bougainvillea framing the picture was nature’s handiwork alone.
    Dario returned in a matter of minutes with two slender tulip-shaped flutes and a silver ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne. He poured the wine, sat down beside her and touched the rim of his glass to hers. “Salute!”
    “ Salute! And thank you.”
    “For what?”
    “For everything you’ve done since I’ve been ill. They told me at the hospital that you’re the one who sent me flowers every day and who took care of all my expenses.”
    “What else would you have had me do, Maeve? I’m your husband.”
    “Yes, well…about that…”
    “Relax, cara, ” he advised her gently. “I didn’t mention our relationship as a prelude to demanding my conjugal rights.”
    “Oh,” she said, swallowing a wave of disappointment along with a sip of champagne. Not that she was raring to make love to a man she didn’t know, but that he presumably knew her very well indeed, yet was so willing to keep his distance, wasn’t exactly flattering. On the other hand, what else did sheexpect? “Under the circumstances, it never occurred to me that you were.”
    He turned his head sharply and fixed her in a probing stare. “What do you mean by that?”
    “I might not remember marrying you, Dario, but I’ve still got twenty-twenty vision. I know I look more like a scarecrow than a woman.”
    “You’re still recovering from an accident that almost cost you your life. You can’t expect to look the same as you did before.”
    “Even so, my hair…” She tugged self-consciously at the pathetic remains of what had once been her crowning glory, as if doing so might persuade it to sprout another few inches.
    Reaching across the space separating them, he stilled her hand and brought it down to rest beneath his. It was the kind of thing a parent might do to stop a child picking at a scab, but however he might have intended it, his touch electrified her in places not referred to in polite society. Involuntarily she clamped her knees together as primly as a virgin defending her innocence.
    Fortunately, he couldn’t read her mind. Or if he could, he didn’t like the direction it had taken, because he let go of her hand as quickly as he’d grasped it. “You have beautiful hair,” he said. “It reminds me of sunshine on satin.”
    “It’s too short.”
    “I like it short. It shows more of your face, which, like the rest of you, is also quite beautiful, regardless of how you might view it.”
    Even