Bound By Their Nine-Month Scandal (The Montero Baby Scandals 3)

“You are not your mother,” he cut in. “There are only a handful of events where your presence is important to me. I’ll mark them and the rest are up to you. My people have done all my organizing until this point and can continue to do so. Our baby won’t be as accommodating, though,” he said wryly.

“I know,” she said on a little sigh. “Fieldwork is out for several years, so I might as well take on charity work.”

“We’ll travel with you.” He shrugged.

She choked out a dismissive laugh.

He frowned. “I’ll help as much as possible from day one, Pia. That’s why I want us to be a family. I realize it won’t be easy to carve out time in the beginning, but I don’t expect you to sacrifice that brain of yours to my photo ops. Is there something you can work on in the short term that’s more piecemeal and can be done from home?”

She hesitated, rather stunned by his attitude. “This is weird for me. I’ve always had to work really hard to justify wanting to study. Mother thought it was a waste of time since she expected me to live a role like hers once I was married. I made a strong case for at least getting my doctorate, but my father and brothers have always questioned my interest in biology. The family business is alloys so they thought I should follow in their footsteps. Even when I fund from my own pocket, some professor is always quick to weigh in on whether my pursuit has merit or tell me my time and money could be better spent elsewhere. It’s exhausting.”

“Do I need to put on a cardigan and throw a research fund-raiser to get your idea approved? I can do that. I can talk just about anyone into just about anything.”

She’d noticed. She told him things she’d never told anyone.

“I’ve been contributing some of my data to a pregnancy study,” she admitted. “It’s a surprisingly understudied area. Women are considered to be vulnerable in this state, physically and mentally.” She dismissed that with a roll of her eyes. “Obviously, we’re not a testing ground for new drugs, but there are a lot of things that aren’t known. I’ve been thinking about how to structure a few studies of my own—”

“Done. What do you need?”

“More pregnant women?” she suggested tartly, suppressing an astonished chuckle that he was so quick and unquestioning in his support.

He came to take her chin in a light pinch. “I will proceed with caution on producing more of those. I’m discovering they can be quite a handful. If there was some decent data warning of the real danger they pose, we men might show some restraint in making them.”

“Oh, good luck with that,” she sputtered.

“You’re right.” His teeth flashed in a grin of humor. “As if we’ll read when we could put our time to better use.” He winked. His irises shone with the warmth of a summer sky and he was so blindingly handsome in that moment that she caught her breath and thought, Oh.

This was why they called it falling. Her head swam and her feet couldn’t feel the floor. The world tilted and her heart flipped and wind rushed in her ears. When his mouth touched hers, such a soaring joy gripped her, she thought she would burst.

* * *

That lightness carried her into her wedding day, putting secretive smiles on her sisters-in-law’s faces as they fussed around her with the rest of the bridal party. Her stylist kept going on about the romance of the day and how there was so much “love in the air.”

They know, Pia thought, desperately trying to hide her tender new feelings because the sense of exposure was so intense. And she didn’t know how Angelo felt. Was he growing to care for her, too? Or was his support of her all part of a play they were enacting for the benefit of their child?

She dearly wished for a moment of privacy to collect herself, but solitude was the only luxury this wedding didn’t afford her. She had to hide her insecurities behind a calm smile as she was harnessed into her mikado silk A-line gown and took the weight of her veil, covered in thousands of seed pearls, as it was draped over her hair.

Pia wasn’t convinced she was worthy of romantic love anyway. Sorcha and Poppy, yes. They were warm and outgoing, witty and quick to laugh. They were so easy to adore—it was no wonder Pia’s staid brothers had fallen head over heels.

Pia didn’t even know where to start in making herself emotionally appealing. Whatever good qualities she had cultivated had never swayed her parents toward words or demonstrations of love. Even loving friendships were built on confidences, something she found difficult because the things she valued had rarely been valued by others. Her niece and nephews loved her, which felt like a miracle, but Pia didn’t let it go to her head. Such well-loved children were factories for the recycling of it, pouring out adoration for anyone who brought them a toy or took them into the garden for an hour.

As for Angelo, she had shared more with him than anyone in her life, quite possibly revealing as many reasons not to love her. Who wanted a wife who fought tears because her wedding day felt like too big an ordeal to face? One who would rather wear woolen socks and rubber rain gear than a gown worth a quarter million euros?

The moment arrived and her father appeared to escort her. He looked flawless and handsome and said a polite, “You look lovely.”

Pia waited an extra, agonizing second, hoping for something... Maybe that clichéd remark that he didn’t want to lose her? That he was proud of her? That he forgave her for getting pregnant and forcing this wedding to the wrong man?

“Are you ready?”

The urge to cry lurched harder in her throat.

Love was impossible to force; she knew that. She also knew that longing for it made the lack of it even more painful. She couldn’t pin her dreams on Angelo falling for her. Couldn’t do that to herself and continue to suffer this ache the rest of her life.

She swallowed back her tears and let her father guide her to the top of the aisle.

The music changed and the guests stood and turned to watch her procession. She wanted to cling to her father’s arm, but forced herself to hold to the pace he set and smile and breathe.

Her gaze snagged on Angelo’s as she moved toward him. His attention flickered to her bouquet and she could practically hear his voice in her head. Nice clipboard.