rolling green hills and the breathtaking countryside.
“I’m all for your showing me your thanks if words aren’t enough.”
He slid his arms around her waist, encountering that slight belly bump he just couldn’t quite get used to. Each time he saw it, touched it, a lump rose in his throat. He was falling in love with this child, with this woman. But what if something happened to one of them? He couldn’t afford to go through that nightmare again.
“I have to tell you something,” he whispered into her hair. “I know this baby is mine. I know it because I’ve come to know you. You’re genuine, honest. I also believe that you and Anthony are friends—probably better friends than I’d like, but that’s your business.”
Mia looked up at him, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Bronson, you can’t know what that means to me. I want us to have trust. I want to be able to give this baby stability.”
“We will,” he assured her.
He couldn’t wait to show her the final surprise he had in store. More than once he’d almost let it slip, but he wanted to see the expression on her face when he revealed the gift he’d been working on.
Mia didn’t want this moment to end. Wrapped in Bronson’s arms, looking on to the Tuscan countryside, feeling the soft flutter of their baby in her belly, nothing else in life mattered right now. There were no problems, no secrets. Nothing to keep her from happiness.
But as he pulled away to assist her with her chair, reality set in. There was a problem and there was a secret. She wanted to tell Bronson, wanted to tell him while they were in this magical place where the outside world couldn’t touch them. But she was bound by loyalty to another man to keep his secret, and no matter how deep the love she had developed for Bronson, she would never go back on her word.
Bronson moved the flower to the side of her plate before dishing out hefty helpings of pasta.
“You okay?” he asked.
She forced a smile. They were in this magical castle, and she refused to think about what would be waiting for them upon their return home.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just nervous about your trying my first authentic Italian meal.”
As he came back with bread, Mia poured a glass of water from the pitcher he’d had on the table. “What’s this?” She tapped on the stainless-steel bowl with lid.
“Open it,” he told her, taking a seat across from her.
Mia lifted the lid, stared at the contents and laughed. “All green M&M’s?”
He shrugged. “Just in case your homemade dessert didn’t turn out, I knew you liked those.”
Mia’s heart swelled even more. There was no question Bronson loved her. How many ways had he shown her? Did she need him to say the words? They would be nice to hear, but she knew he wasn’t ready to say them, and his actions had seriously spoken louder than three simple words could.
But what she prayed for more than anything was that he trusted her. And that he would still trust her when he discovered the truth about Anthony. That he would come to her, let her comfort him and explain why she hadn’t been able to tell him what she knew.
Because if she lost Bronson from her life, she truly doubted that she would ever find love like this again.
“Another surprise, Bronson?” Mia asked as she climbed into the sporty silver rental car.
After a night of passionate lovemaking and testing her scrumptious dessert in bed, Bronson woke her with orders to get dressed and be ready in an hour.
“Trust me,” he told her as he started the engine. “You may love this surprise most.”
“More than a castle getaway, the cooking lessons, my own bowl of green M&M’s?”
He smiled, steering them down the narrow street. “More.”
Now that had her even more intrigued. “Can you tell me what it is?”
Reaching over, he grabbed her hand and laughed. “You have really got to learn some patience, Mia.”
“I will. Tomorrow. Now tell me where you’re taking me.”
The infuriating man merely laughed as he drove. They traveled for nearly an hour before coming to a beautiful little town with bistros and specialty shops.
“What are we doing here?” she asked once he’d parked.
“Shopping.”
Mia jerked around. “You like to shop?”
“Not really, but I love seeing you happy. We’re looking for baby furniture.”
Mia squealed. “Baby furniture?” She glanced out the window at the small, locally owned shops. “Do they have a furniture store here?”
“Even better. They have a store where you can custom-order your furniture and it’s all made and shipped to you.”
Was this a dream? And she’d thought in Cannes she’d outdone Cinderella. This was much, much bigger than anything she could’ve ever imagined.
“The owner has made some pieces for my mother and Victoria,” Bronson told her as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ve never been to his store, but I’ve spoken with him on the phone a few times with this day in mind.”
Unable to contain the excitement bubbling within her, Mia shoved open the car door. “Let’s go.”
Bronson came around, took her hand and led her to the store down the block. “I called Fabrizio yesterday and informed him we’d be in. He’s fluent in English and is known worldwide for his baby furniture collection.”
Anticipation spread through her as Mia entered the quaint store, a small bell chiming overhead. Sample pieces of intricate headboards made of solid oak sat along the wall. Tables of all shapes, sizes and various stains were all around them. Classy chairs and sofas upholstered in an array of fabrics anchored the room, drawing her eye to the middle-aged man coming toward them.
“Mr. Dane, welcome.” The man closed the gap, shaking Bronson’s hand. “And you’re the lovely Mia. I’m so thrilled you chose to come here. It doesn’t seem like that long ago I was building a crib for your parents.”
Mia’s breath caught as she risked a glance to Bronson, who merely smiled and nodded. He’d planned this. Love flooded her as she looked back to Fabrizio.
She slipped into Italian so easily. “Avete conosciuto I miei genitori?” You knew my parents?
The elderly man smiled. “Ero un amico d’infanzia con il tuo padre.” I was childhood friends with your father.
Mia couldn’t stop the tears from collecting. “I’m honored to meet you,” she told him, switching back to English. “I’m even more honored you’re going to make my baby’s furniture.”
“Oh, my pleasure. My Viviana and I had eight children of our own. There’s nothing as special as welcoming a child into this world.”
He motioned for them to follow as he made his way toward the back of the store. “Come into my office. I’ve pulled some books for you to look at. Some old designs, some new.”
Mia followed the Italian man with a heavy accent and graying temples. Of course with eight kids, it was a wonder the man wasn’t bald.
Mia rubbed the side of her belly as a little flutter tickled her. She couldn’t wait to see her baby, to savor the treasure of motherhood and communicate with her child face-to-face.
They went into a small office where many binders and loose pictures were