Nicolo: The Powerful Sicilian

“You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“You do not have the right to—”

Nick clasped her shoulders again, his touch harsh.

“I have every right! Where were you going? What are your plans?” His mouth twisted. “Dammit, that’s my child you’re carrying.”

Her eyes flashed with bitterness. “Are you sure?”

Okay. He deserved that. Nick took a deep breath.

“Just give me a straight answer. What are you going to do about the baby?” His eyes met hers; he could feel his anger draining away. “Listen. This isn’t easy for me, either. Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking, what you want to do.”

She went on glaring at him. Then, suddenly, the fight seemed to go out of her and she slumped in his hands.

“I don’t—I don’t know.” She looked up at him, eyes pleading for understanding. “Do you think I can decide something like this in an hour? In a day? My life has changed, Nicolo. Whatever I do, nothing will ever be the same again.”

It was exactly what he’d been thinking in the olive grove. Everything had changed for him, for her. Forever. And, just that quickly, his anger was gone.

“Come here,” he said softly, gathering her to him. She fought him, but only for a second. Then she gave a little hiccup of a sob. His arms closed tightly around her; she laid her head against his chest.

“You’re right,” he said, one big hand gently stroking her hair. “Nothing will ever be the same again for either of us. We have a decision to make, princess, maybe the most important decision of our lives.”

Alessia shut her eyes. Nicolo’s touch was so soothing. She longed to wind her arms around his neck, let herself lean into him, let his strength seep into her.

She didn’t. She couldn’t. This was a time for rational thought, not for dreams. And letting herself fall in love with this man had been a dream.

He was not hers. He never would be. But it was a comfort to know she had not been wrong about him. He was a good man. A kind man. That he had refused to let her leave, that he spoke of the decision that came next as having to be made by them both, even that he was holding her now with such tenderness, proved it.

But it didn’t change the fact that their relationship was over. What else could it be?

“Alessia. Come inside. We’ll sit down, have some coffee, talk about this.” He tipped her face to his. “We can work this through, sweetheart. You’ll see.”

She let him hold her hand and lead her into the villa, take her straight through it to the terrace at the back and out into the warm night. How fitting that they should come outside to discuss what would happen next. She’d sat outdoors on a warm Tuscan evening a few short weeks ago with her father. It was where she had first heard the name Orsini.

Who could have imagined that Nicolo Orsini would become her lover? Who could have imagined his child would lie sleeping in her womb?

Nicolo led her to a love seat, drew her down next to him, held her hands so that they faced each other.

“So,” he said softly.

She couldn’t help offering a little smile.

“So,” she said.

Nicolo freed one of his hands, used it to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Tell me what you’re thinking. About what you want to do next.”

She took a deep breath. “There are public clinics. Private doctors. Abortion is legal in my country.”

“But?”

“But, it is not a good choice for me.”

“You want to have the baby.”

She nodded.