Her Italian Soldier

“Because of you, my shop in Rome will be besieged by women wanting to look just like you. Of course that’s impossible, but it’s the thought that counts.”

Annabelle burst into laughter. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I know Guilio is very grateful.”

“You were a delight to work with.”

“I’ll never forget you, Marcella.”

After she left, Annabelle removed her makeup and tied her hair in a ponytail. Once she’d slipped into pleated khaki pants and a light blue cotton knit top, she hurried back outside.

Lucca stood by the car, holding the door open for her. There weren’t words to describe his looks adequately. She felt like a frump in comparison, but kept a smile pasted on.

“The Amalfi Girl is gone.”

“No.” His eyes traveled over her before coming back to her face. “The real Amalfi Girl is standing in front of me, the one my father saw when he went to California.”

“Incredible, isn’t it?” She got in the car and waited for him to go around and get in the other side. “He said he saw my bones and knew I was the one he wanted.”

“My father has a visionary side to him. The other side is the persuasive businessman.”

She started the motor and drove down the gravel drive to the road. “I found that out.”

Lucca’s hand slid to her thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going to apologize for touching you like this. After the way I saw all the dealers devouring you with their eyes, I’m feeling possessive of you. Since I came home, we’ve lived in our own private world and I’ve grown to crave it.”

What he’d just said had silenced her. In the palpable quiet that followed, his cell phone rang. Annabelle bet it was Guilio wanting to talk to his son. It was only ten o’clock, but she knew Lucca’s leg was hurting. He’d been at the party long enough to start feeling uncomfortable.

He gave her leg another squeeze before removing his hand to answer it. She expected to hear him talk in affectionate tones to his father, but there was silence. She glanced sideways at Lucca and her spirits fell. There were long periods where he listened, then spoke in low tones. Annabelle couldn’t make anything out except that his body had tensed and that wasn’t a good sign.

After he hung up, her anxiety increased while she waited for him to tell her what was wrong. By now they’d reached the farmhouse.

“That was Stefana Beraldi’s mother calling from the hospital in Naples.”

Uh-oh.

“Stefana started bleeding earlier in the day. She was rushed to emergency hoping the baby could be saved, but it wasn’t possible. It seems she’s in the operating room right now having some kind of procedure done.”

“A D and C,” Annabelle said quietly.

“What is that?”

“An abbreviation for a dilation and curettage. Sometimes tissue remains in the uterus and it has to be removed.”

Lucca grimaced. “Her mother said she’d be in the hospital for another twenty-four hours. I’ve got to go to her.”

“I’ll drive you now, but before we leave here, I’ll run inside for your pills. Don’t move. By morning you’re going to be exhausted and will start hurting without them.”

When she came back to the car a minute later with his pills and a couple of colas, Lucca had pulled some ham-and-cheese rolls from a sack. He handed her one with a napkin. “After the day you’ve been through, you need to eat first or you’ll be too tired to drive.”

She finished hers fast and drank half her cola before starting up the car once more. Lucca devoured five in a row and swallowed all his drink before settling back against the seat with a heavy sigh.

“Why did this have to happen to her?” The bleakness in his tone caused her to groan inwardly. To hear this awful news after the wonderfully unforgettable night…

Annabelle drew in a shaky breath. “One obstetrician I worked with told me a miscarriage can mean something was wrong with the baby and it wasn’t meant to be, but I realize that won’t be of any comfort to Stefana.”

He turned toward her. “Do you know my mother had four miscarriages before I was born? I only found that out the other day.”

“Your poor parents. How hard that had to have been on them, but especially your mother. With every conception, all the hopes and dreams start up. Thank heaven she was able to carry you to term.”

A harsh sound escaped Lucca’s throat. “Now Stefana’s hopes are dashed.”