Scandal and the Runaway Bride (Heirs to an Empire 1)

It sounded horrid and dull, and he rather suspected it was because she wouldn’t be there.

“Come, now,” he said softly, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s all right. Your mama is going to stay and be with him when he’s awake. You need some food and some rest.”

She nodded against him, and lifted her chin as she pulled away. “Sorry. I think the relief hit me.”

“It’s no problem.”

Gabi looked at her sister and said, “Do you and Marco want to stay at my flat tonight? I have room.”

Giulia looked at Marco, and then back at Gabi. “Marco and I are going to drive home. But we’ll be back tomorrow. The drive isn’t that long. Call if there’s anything...” Her lip quivered. “You know.”

Marco nodded. “I’ll have her back here in no time.”

“Whatever you want,” Gabi said. “Mama?”

“I’m staying with your father, but I’ll go to Isabella’s later.”

“Promise you’ll take care of yourself. I can stay with you...”

“No,” Lucia said firmly. “Will is right. I bet you hardly slept last night. Go home. You’re only minutes away and I will call if there’s a change. But I am fine, I promise. Now that he’s through the surgery, I’m fine.” She smiled tiredly. “Now we fight.”

“Oh, Mama, I love you,” Gabi said, and she went for a hug.

Will waited while everyone said their goodbyes, and told Lucia to give Massimo their love. By the time they finally left the hospital, it was nearly eight p.m. Will had awakened at six that morning and had heard Gabi already up and about. She had to be ready to drop by now.

“Let’s get you home, and then I’ll head to a hotel,” he said. “You need sleep.”

Gabi looked up at him and shook her head. “You don’t need a hotel. I have a spare room. You can stay with me, and go straight to the airport tomorrow. If you want to.”

And just like that she’d put the decision on him. He knew what he wanted and knew what he should do and they weren’t the same thing at all. Sleeping in her spare room, knowing she was there, too, in a bed alone, was a torturous thought. Going to a lonely hotel was no better.

“Let’s get you home first and maybe some actual dinner, and then we’ll see.”

Once outside she took a deep breath and let it out, as if shaking off the weight of the world. She rolled her shoulders a bit. “Do you want me to drive?” she asked. “I know the city. My flat is about ten minutes away.”

“Sure, if you want to.” He dug in his pocket for the keys, and before long Gabi was behind the wheel, navigating her way out of the hospital and through the city streets.

It seemed no time at all before she pulled up in front of a building and parked on the street. “This is me,” she said, looking up at a nondescript three-story building with affection. “My flat is the top two floors. I got lucky with it. The neighborhood is quiet and lovely, and it’s a nice walk to the historic center. The offices are on the other side of the city, so I drive or take transit. But I fell in love with this place and I’ve lived here for four years, ever since I started working at Baresi.”

He got out and started to open the back door for his bag, when she said, “No, wait. Before we go up, I need food. I haven’t been home in weeks. The cupboard is most definitely bare and there’s nothing in the refrigerator. Leave your bag. We’ll only be a few minutes.”

It was only a short walk to a street with a smattering of cafés, a few markets and one pizzeria that smelled heavenly. “You can get pizza if you want,” she said, “but my favorite thing of all is their porchetta sandwiches. Let’s get the basics first and come back.”

At the market they stocked up on coffee, bread, butter and, at Will’s insistence, eggs. “I’m dying for a mess of eggs,” he confessed. “I could make you an omelet. I need cheese, and good ham—”

“You’re in the right part of Italy for good ham,” she replied, and their basket got fuller. Tomatoes and mushrooms followed, and Gabi insisted on truffles, and then there was wine. By the time they paid, they were both carrying two bags each.

“Now for sandwiches,” she said, and they popped into the pizzeria. Will stood back while she talked and joked in Italian with the young man behind the counter. He could only pick up a few words, because they were speaking so fast, but he didn’t mind. Gabi’s face was relaxed and animated. She’d needed to come home, he realized. Not just to the villa but to the home she’d made for herself. For the first time, he felt like he was finally seeing the real Gabi, and he liked her even more. This was her neighborhood and these were her people. They knew her and liked her. A young woman, very pregnant, came around the counter and gave her a hug. Will picked up enough Italian to know she asked about Massimo, and Gabi answered briefly.

The young man handed over a bag of sandwiches and then a separate bag with a wink. When Gabi protested, he waved his hands and walked away. “Grazie!” she called out, and then they were headed to the door again.

“What’s in the other bag?” Will asked as they stepped outside again.

“Tiramisu that Bianca made this morning. Bianca is his wife. Expecting their third baby any day now. I probably eat there more than I should, but...”

He nudged her elbow. “They’re your friends. It’s lovely. Remember that curry place I told you about? I felt the same way. I walked in and it felt like being welcomed into their family.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”