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EPILOGUE
‘MAY BE this wasn’t such a great idea after all.’ Nick stared at the imposing Hampstead mansion block out of the windscreen of the hire car he and Eva had picked up at Heathrow airport an hour ago.
Traffic had been lighter than he’d expected for the day after Boxing Day. Way too light in fact. Was he really ready for this?
Eva’s hand settled on his thigh and rubbed gently. ‘If you don’t want to do this, Nick, you don’t have to,’ she murmured as if she’d read his mind. ‘We can go book into the hotel.’ She gave a quiet little laugh. ‘From the pictures on their website, the honeymoon suite is amazing.’
Covering her hand, he let go of the breath he’d been holding.
‘You booked the honeymoon suite?’ He gazed at his wife, and huffed out a laugh, pathetically grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood. ‘When we’ve been married for over six months?’
She wiggled her eyebrows. ‘It has the best bed,’ she countered, her blue eyes sparking with humour. ‘And anyway, they won’t know how long we’ve been married, will they?’
‘Really?’ He placed his palm on the firm mound of her belly, felt the familiar ripple of love and pride at the thought of the life they’d made together growing inside her. ‘This is a bit of a giveaway, don’t you think?’
‘Not necessarily,’ she said laughing. ‘We could have been living in sin.’ Her brows rose mischievously. ‘In fact, we would have been if you hadn’t turned out to be such a square,’ she finished, a mock pout on her lips.
He chuckled, remembering her initial attempts to persuade him that they didn’t have to get married just because they’d had a slip-up with their birth control and were becoming parents a lot sooner than planned.
‘Sweetheart, give it up…’ He curved his hand round her neck to draw her close, touched his nose to hers. ‘Your wild days are over.’ He nuzzled her lips, letting his hand linger as it caressed the soft hair at her nape. ‘I wasn’t about to miss the chance to get my ring on your finger. The baby just helped seal the deal.’
Had it really only been two years since she’d agreed to move to San Francisco? She’d changed him so much. Made him a braver, better man than he’d ever thought he could be—making him realise that your life wasn’t defined by the mistakes you made, but how you dealt with them.
He’d faced so many of his demons and learned to conquer them with Eva by his side. Best of all, he’d made his peace with Don Vincenzo and the truth about his biological inheritance. With Eva’s help, he’d come to accept that he wasn’t so much Leonardo’s son as Vincenzo’s grandson. And getting to know the old man, over the summer months they now spent at the palazzo, and become a part of his family, had given him back the important foundation that he’d lost at sixteen. His lips curved at the memory of Vincenzo’s elation when his grandfather had greeted him and Eva as they arrived for Christmas in Lake Garda and spotted her pregnancy.
Nick sighed, and faced the austere mansion block again, where his PA had discovered his sister Ruby now lived with her husband of six years, Callum Westmore. His lips firmed.
The question now was, did he have the guts to finally deal with the biggest mistake of his life?
‘Seriously, Nick. You don’t have to do this,’ Eva said, her voice full of the sweetness and support that had become such an important part of his life.
He looked into her eyes, the smile returning. ‘Yeah, I do. It’s past time. I want our child to know Ruby.’ He rested his palm on Eva’s leg. ‘I just hope to hell married life has calmed her down a bit, because the kid I remember could create quite a scene when she set her mind to it.’
He climbed out of the car, skirted the bonnet and opened the passenger door for Eva, then slung his arm round her waist. The solid feel of her against his side giving him the courage he needed.
Because the truth was, he’d take a scene any day to what he really feared. That Ruby would cut him dead, the way he deserved.
Eva squeezed Nick’s hand as he pressed the buzzer on the mansion’s intercom. She could feel the tension vibrating through him, knew how much this meeting meant to him. And while a part of her hoped that Ruby Westmore was a woman with a big heart and a forgiving soul, if she wasn’t, Eva already had a contingency plan. No one got to hurt Nick, not even his sister. So the woman would have to go through Eva to do it.
‘Who’s there?’ The high-pitched enquiry crackled out of the panel.
Nick frowned at Eva, clearly as puzzled as she was by the abrupt question. ‘Um… We’re here to see Ruby Westmore.’
The door buzzed and Nick shoved it open.
They climbed the brightly lit stairwell to the first floor, the building’s wrought-iron balustrade and marble flooring matching the gothic frontage. Just as they reached the landing a door opposite the stairwell opened and a little girl standing on a chair peered out. ‘My mummy’s Ruby Westmore and she’s making turkey for dinner. Again,’ she announced, her nose wrinkling comically. ‘And Daddy’s giving Arturo a bath.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Eva said, when Nick simply stared at the little girl, clearly struggling to process the fact that this stunningly beautiful child with her cap of honey-brown curls and her bright emerald eyes had to be his niece.
‘What’s your name?’ Eva asked.
‘My name’s Alessia and I’m four and a half. My big brother Max is five and three quarters and he’s on a sleepover with his best friend Becca,’ she continued without any prompting. ‘Daddy says Alessia means trouble in Italian.’
Eva bit into her lip to hold back a grin at the non sequitur. She could just imagine how much trouble.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Alessia,’ she said. ‘I’m Eva and this is my husband Nick and we’d really like to talk to one of your parents.’
‘Hello,’ the girl replied, her gaze dipping to Eva’s stomach. ‘Do you have a baby in your tummy?’ she asked bluntly, happily ignoring the request for parental intervention. ‘Mummy had Art in her tummy for ages.’ She rolled her eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh worthy of an eighty-year-old. ‘But he’s out now and Daddy says he’s even more trouble than me and Max.’
