Nicolo: The Powerful Sicilian

“George,” Nick said, and started past the man.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking…”

“Asking what?”

“If everything’s okay, sir. With Mrs. Orsini.”

Okay. George was the only other person, aside from the ob-gyn and his sisters, who knew there was a Mrs. Orsini….

Wait a minute.

Nick stood absolutely still. Then he turned toward the doorman.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

George hesitated. “Well, I just thought—I mean, I’m not prying, sir, it’s just she asked me about the nearest hospital when I hailed the cab for her and—”

“Where?” Nick’s voice was rough with urgency. “Where did you tell her to go?”

“I suggested she go to Mount Sinai. I know it’s not the closest but—”

Nick was already on his way.

Friday nights were not the best time to be in an emergency room. The place was full of drunks and dopers and people clutching jaws and elbows and looking as if they were on their last breath.

Alessia wasn’t among them.

It took Nick ten minutes to find a nurse who might know something, but only two to convince her that he would take the place apart unless she told him where he could find his wife.

Alessia had come in half an hour before, bleeding vaginally. She’d given her ob-gyn’s name. The admitting nurse knew the man, knew he had staff privileges. She’d called him and he was with Alessia now, in a private room, and if Mr. Orsini would just take a seat in the waiting room…

Nick ran for the elevator, knew he’d never have the patience to wait and took the fire stairs. By the time he reached the right floor, found the right room, he was breathing hard.

Breathing hard and scared as he had never been in his life, not in combat, not in clandestine ops, not in anything. His wife, his wife, was behind the door ahead of him. His wife, whom he loved with all his heart, all his soul, with everything he was or ever would be…

He dragged in a deep breath. Knocked. Turned the doorknob…

And saw his princess, pale and forlorn-looking, in an ugly hospital gown that only made her more beautiful, in a hospital bed that seemed to dwarf her.

“Alessia,” he whispered.

She turned her face toward him. Her eyes lit—and then the light in them dimmed.

“Nicolo,” she said. “How did you—”

He hurried to her side, grasped her cold hand in his, brought it to his lips. “What happened? Are you all right? Where’s the doctor? Why didn’t you call me?”

Despite the heaviness in her heart, Nicolo’s rushed questions made Alessia smile.

“I am fine, Nicolo. The doctor stepped out for a moment. As for why I didn’t call you…” Her smile faded. “I met your sisters today.” Her voice dropped to a choked whisper. “And—and I found out that you have not told anyone about me. About us. About the baby. And I knew then that any hope I had that you would someday want me, love me—”

Nick silenced her the only way that mattered. He kissed her. Softly. Tenderly. The sweetness of her taste filled him.

“Alessia, sweetheart…I love you with all my heart. I’ll always love you.”

Tears filled her eyes. “You don’t. You are only saying it because—”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”