Larenzo's Christmas Baby

‘It must have seemed like a whole new world.’

‘It did. And then I won a scholarship to university, and when I graduated Bertrano asked me to work for him.’ His throat had thickened again and he stared up at the ceiling, determinedly dry-eyed. ‘I joined the business, and when I was twenty-five he changed it to Raguso and Cavelli Enterprises. When I was thirty, he changed it just to Cavelli. He said he wanted to bequeath the business to me, that I’d worked hard for it, for him, and I was as good as a son.’

‘He loved you,’ Emma said quietly. Larenzo swallowed.

‘And I loved him. Which has made it all the harder to accept how he was willing to betray me.’

They were both silent, their bodies still wrapped around one another’s, the only sound their breathing. Eventually Emma stirred a bit.

‘Do you think he’s regretted what he did to you?’ she asked quietly.

‘I don’t know,’ Larenzo admitted. ‘Even now I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. I want to believe he was just weak and afraid. I don’t think he had criminal connections the whole time. I’d left a lot of areas of the company to him, and I think he got in over his head.’

‘And that’s why you confessed.’

‘I confessed because the proof was there. I was CEO of the company, and Bertrano had put my name all over his shady dealings. I’d put my name all over it, by giving him that leeway.’

‘You still could have fought it, Larenzo,’ Emma insisted. ‘But you didn’t because you loved him. Because you were protecting him.’

He closed his eyes against the memory, and her flawless, painful understanding. ‘Yes.’

She placed one hand on his cheek, forcing him to look down at her. ‘That is nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘Isn’t it?’ he demanded rawly. ‘He might have loved me as his son once, but he still treated me as his stooge. And I let him.’

‘He was an old, weak, frightened man.’

‘You’re pardoning him?’ Larenzo demanded and Emma shook her head, certainty blazing from her eyes.

‘No. I’m pardoning you.’

He took her hand in his then, and pressed it to his lips. Their gazes held, the communication between them silent and pure. You are understood. Forgiven. Loved.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered and she smiled even as her eyes filled with tears.

‘Do you know that’s what you said after the last time we made love? You don’t need to thank me, Larenzo.’

‘I’ve never told anyone all of that before,’ he said. ‘I’m grateful that you listened. That you understood.’

‘I’m grateful you told me,’ she answered, and they didn’t speak after that. They didn’t need to.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE NEXT MORNING Emma got up with Ava while Larenzo slept. The sleep of the just, she thought with a wry smile as she gazed down at him. He looked glorious stretched out in bed, the sheet tangled around his hips, one arm thrown over his head, the morning sunlight touching his body with gold.

Ava let out another yowl and reluctantly Emma turned away from Larenzo. Her heart was light as she changed and fed Ava; last night things had finally shifted. Larenzo’s story of his childhood made her heart ache with sorrow and grief for the lonely boy he’d been, but she was also thankful, so thankful, that he’d told her. They could go on from here, Emma thought. They could build something strong and true. Last night they had laid its foundation.

She was standing by the stove, scrambling eggs, Ava sitting in her high chair banging a spoon on the tray, when Larenzo came into the kitchen. He’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt but his hair was still rumpled, his jaw dark with stubble, and he looked so sexy that Emma’s insides clenched hard on a spasm of longing.

‘Hey,’ he said, and she just about managed to keep her voice sounding normal as she answered.

‘Hey.’

‘Dada!’ They both looked in surprise at Ava and then at each other as she proudly said it again. ‘Dada.’

‘That’s right, sweetheart,’ Emma said, her voice a little choked, and Larenzo scooped his daughter up into his arms.

‘Aren’t you the clever one?’

Ava grinned and patted his cheeks and then squirmed to get down. Larenzo let her down, watching in bemusement as she cruised from chair to table leg. ‘She really will be walking soon.’