Once a Ferrara Wife...

‘Not any more. I have a surprise for you. A gift.’ As they negotiated the steps in the amphitheatre, he took her hand firmly in his and frowned. ‘Your hands are cold. Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.’

She wanted to tell him that she didn’t need big presents from him, that gifts weren’t the reason she was with him but all she could think about was the fact that he was going to arrange for her to see a doctor and that was the last thing she wanted.

Cristiano lengthened his stride. ‘I can’t wait for you to see it.’

‘The doctor?’

His glance was indulgent. ‘I was talking about my gift to you.’

‘Oh. I’m sure I’ll love it,’ she croaked, knowing that she had to tell him the truth.

They arrived back at the house and Cristiano immediately walked towards his study, one of her favourite rooms.

He paused with his hand on the door and she wondered what on earth this gift was that merited so much drama in the presentation.

‘You said I didn’t think about what you really wanted. That the gifts I gave you weren’t personal.’ His voice was husky and he looked at her with expectant eyes. ‘This gift is very personal and I hope it goes some way towards proving how much I love you.’

She wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter how much he loved her, their relationship had no future if he was still hoping that there would be children, but there was no opportunity to speak because he was already pushing open the door and standing back, waiting for her reaction.

Laurel stared past him into the room and swallowed in disbelief.

What had once been a high-tech office—his office—had been transformed into a library. Tall bookshelves hand-carved in a beautiful pale wood lined the walls. Cristiano’s desk had been removed and replaced with two large squashy sofas that just invited the visitor to sit down and relax and read. But what really drew her attention was the fact that the bookshelves were already stacked with books.

Laurel walked towards them on shaky legs, feeling a lump spring to the back of her throat. Running her eyes along the shelves, she saw old favourites as well as plenty she’d never read.

It should have been the perfect gift. It would have been the perfect gift had it not been for the knowledge that their love had no future.

She remembered an occasion as a child when someone had given her a big shiny balloon, only for it to burst moments later.

Tilting her head back, she looked at the books. Her big shiny balloon. Reaching for one, she removed it from the shelf and glanced at the flyleaf. ‘It’s a first edition.’

‘Yes. And before you say anything, I did have help tracking them down because I don’t claim to be an expert on old books. But the idea was mine. And I gave them a list of the books. I made contact with that old English teacher you talked about, the estimable Miss Hayes, and she gave me some idea of what would be in a well stocked British library.’

The lump in her throat was big and solid and refused to budge. ‘Miss Hayes? How did you find Miss Hayes?’

‘I’m a man of influence, remember?’ But his lazy drawl was tinged with something else. An uncertainty that she’d never heard in his tone before. ‘Do you like it?’

‘Oh, yes.’ And the fact that he’d done this for her made everything else seem so much worse.

‘I have something else for you.’ He picked up a wrapped parcel from the table and handed it to her. ‘I want you to read this book first.’

Laurel wondered why he’d chosen to wrap this particular book. Removing the paper, she found herself holding a beautifully bound book of fairy tales.

‘Oh—’ Her voice cracked and she held it tightly, unable to speak as her emotions surged over her.

‘You said you never had one as a child. I thought we should remedy that, but be warned—plenty of bad things happen in fairy tales.’ Removing the book from her hands, he pulled her against him and lowered his mouth to hers. ‘But just because bad things happen doesn’t mean that you can’t have a happy ending. Remember that. The Princess always gets the rich, handsome guy even if there are a few poisoned apples and spinning wheels along the way.’

Watching her happy ending retreating into the distance, Laurel swallowed.

He’d remembered her story about the bedroom full of books. About the fairy tales she’d never read.

‘I don’t know what to say.’ Her voice cracked and he looked at her in consternation.

‘I thought you’d be pleased. Happy.’

This was the moment she had to tell him she didn’t want to see the doctor he’d found.

She had to explain.