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“Help me down, and I will make you breakfast.”
“Only if you promise not to put your jeans or knickers back on.” He gently lifts her from the counter and slides her down his body until her feet touch the floor. He cradles her head in his hands. “I want babies—lots of them. I thought—” He swallows. “I thought that maybe with Kit… and his…condition. That…”
“Oh, Maxim,” Alessia whispers, realizing that this is another reason he’s been so preoccupied. She leans in, bringing her lips to his, and kisses him, a sweet, remorseful kiss.
All the worry, and she never knew.
“Let’s have breakfast and talk about it.”
“We could go out,” Maxim offers.
“I like making breakfast for you, Maxim. I want to take care of you, like you want to provide for me. That’s a partnership.”
* * *
Alessia’s fingers make patterns in my hair as we lie in bed. Spent. Replete. Together. My head on her stomach, I turn and kiss the soft skin of her belly and allow myself a little fantasy that it’s swollen with our child.
Alessia doesn’t have the same sense of urgency as I do. She doesn’t realize that I’m trying to bind her to me in any way I can, but we’ve talked, and she’s right. She’s young and wants to see a little of the world before we embark on babies.
Mate. What were you thinking?
I wonder what my mother would make of being a grandmother.
I sigh. I have no idea how I’ll repair that relationship.
Do I want to?
“What is it?” Alessia asks.
“I’m just thinking about my mother.”
Alessia stiffens beneath me.
Shit. “Did she say something horribly dreadful to you?”
Alessia is quiet, and her fingers have stopped fiddling with my hair, so I look up.
Eyes gleaming, she swallows. “She wanted to know how much money I wanted to leave you.”
What. The. Fuck?
Sitting up, I lean against the pillows and gather my wife in my arms. “I’m so sorry.”
“I was hurt and angry, but she was only acting in what she thinks is your…um…best…um…”
“Interests?”
“Yes. That.”
“It’s not in my best interests at all. The woman wouldn’t know my best interests if she tripped over them and they smacked her bloody arse. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. If anything—” I stop because what I’m about to say about my own mother is… un-fucking-becoming. “Who the hell does she think she is?” I shake my head in disbelief and kiss the top of Alessia’s head.
“She did come here and had the courage to tell you and your sister face to the face about your brother.”
“Well, that’s putting a positive slant on what happened. But I suppose you’re right.” I offer her a smile. “And it’s ‘face-to-face.’”
Alessia grins. “There he is—my English teacher.”
“For as long as you need me.”
“I will always need you.” Alessia’s burning sincerity and love is in every syllable of her soft-spoken statement, and it feeds my soul. Curling my fingers around hers, I bring them to my lips. And to think we were at loggerheads last night—and I wonder what would have happened if my mother hadn’t put in her untimely appearance. “I wonder why she came all the way from Manhattan to tell us in such a hostile way.”
“Perhaps she is punishing herself?” Alessia offers.
Wow. “That’s insightful. Do you think so?”
She shakes her head, and it’s plain that this is just Alessia’s hypothesis, but it’s credible. Perhaps my mother is filled with shame.
Who knows? Is she capable of shame?
“Shall we go out for lunch?” I ask, and Alessia grins. “We’ll probably have to dodge the press after that sordid article,” I add.
Alessia shrugs. “We say nothing.”
I grin. “Exactly.”
* * *
On Monday morning, Alessia and Maxim leave via the fire escape to avoid the cluster of reporters outside the building. Maxim hails a cab, and together, feeling pleased with themselves, they settle into the back seat and head to the London Academy of Social Etiquette and Graces.
“What’s that place?” Alessia asks, pointing with her chin at an enormous, ornate, gothic building.
“That’s the Natural History Museum. We should go. Beside it is the Science Museum. Many a Saturday afternoon was spent there. Our nanny at the time had a passion for science. But it has a great place for kids to play and explore.”
Alessia grins. “One day, we will take our children.”
Maxim glances at her. “Or the nanny will.” He finds and fondles her knee.
“Nanny?” Alessia had not thought that they might have help with childcare.
“Just a thought. I had one. Well, several, actually. And look how I turned out.”
Alessia laughs. And Maxim scowls, pretending to be offended. “What are you implying? Am I not the epitome of well-bred manhood?”
“Of course you are.” She giggles. “You have the best manners. And after this week, so shall I.” She pats his knee, suppressing her laughter.
The cab pulls up outside an impressive white building in Queen’s Gate, South Kensington. “We’re here.” Maxim opens the taxi door and steps out while the cab idles. Alessia follows him, staring up at yet more imposing architecture. “Do you want me to come in with you?” Maxim asks.
