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Reunited by a Baby Secret (The Vineyards of Calanetti, Book 3) Page 9
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Page 9
He caught the doll when Nico tossed it to him with a mocking, ‘Your turn.’
His stomach screwed up tight, but he refused to back down from the challenge. How hard could it be? He held out a hand to Marianna like a doctor waiting for a scalpel. ‘Nappy.’ She blinked. ‘Diaper,’ he amended. ‘We call them nappies in Australia.’
She passed one across to him. He stared at it, turned it over. Why didn’t these things come with Front and Back labels? And instructions? Gingerly he rested the baby on the table. Doll, not baby.
Nico’s hands rested on his hips. ‘You need to keep a hand on the baby to make sure it doesn’t roll off the table.’
Marianna shushed her brother. Ryan tried to keep hold of the doll with one hand while unfolding the nappy with the other. Nico snickered. Damn it! He was all thumbs.
Ryan blocked his audience out as he tried to decipher the puzzle in front of him. Slipping what he hoped was the rear of the nappy beneath the baby, he brought the front up, and secured the sticky tabs at the sides. There, that hadn’t been too hard, and for a first attempt it didn’t look too bad. He lifted the baby under the arms prepared to crow at his performance, but the nappy slid off and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Damn!
Nico snorted. ‘And you call yourself a father?’
Marianna opened her mouth, her eyes flashing, but Ryan touched her arm and she closed it again. He glared at Nico. ‘I call myself a father-to-be.’ He tossed the doll back. ‘Show me how you did it again.’ He would master this!
Twenty minutes later Ryan finally lifted the doll and this time his effort at least stayed in place. Discarded diapers littered the table and the floor. He shook the doll.
‘You’re not—’
Ryan held up a finger to the man opposite. ‘I know you’re not supposed to shake babies, but this is a doll, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’ve already killed it multiple times by letting it roll off the table, smothering it beneath a sea of nappies, and it’s probably concussed from where I accidentally cracked its head on the back of the chair.’
Thank heavens Marianna had the foresight to give him a doll to practise on.
‘I know it’s probably peed on me—’ that discussion had proved particularly enlightening ‘—puked on me and probably bitten me, but...’ he shook the doll again ‘...that nappy isn’t going anywhere.’
He felt a ludicrous sense of achievement. He could change a nappy!
‘Don’t get too cocky. Wait until you have to change a dirty diaper. One that smells so bad it’s like a kick in the gut and—’
‘Enough, Nico,’ Marianna said. ‘My turn now.’
She took the doll, and, with her tongue caught between her teeth, repeated the process of putting the diaper on. Ryan moved in closer to check her handiwork. ‘That looks pretty good.’
She shook her head and frowned. ‘I did what you did. I didn’t make it tight enough.’ She slid several fingers between the diaper and the doll to prove her point. ‘It’s just... I don’t want to cut the poor baby’s circulation off.’ She glanced across at her brother. ‘Are you going to say something cutting about my prospective mothering abilities?’
Nico shuffled his feet and glowered at the floor. ‘Of course not.’
A surge of affection swamped Ryan then. She’d just risked criticism and scorn from her brother to show solidarity with him. Nobody had done anything like that for him before, and he was fairly certain he didn’t deserve it now, but...to not feel cut off, adrift, alone. To feel connected and part of a team, it was... He rolled his shoulders. It was kind of nice.
Nico pointed a finger at Marianna. ‘You’ve changed diapers before. You must have at harvest time. We have so many workers then. Many of them with children,’ he added for Ryan’s benefit.
‘I did, but I was never particularly good at it and...well, people stopped asking me.’ Her shoulders had started inching up towards her ears. In the next moment she tossed her head. ‘I was really good at keeping the children entertained, cajoling them out of tears and bad tempers.’
For the first time it struck him that Marianna might be feeling as intimidated and overwhelmed as he did about their impending parenthood.
‘And what’s more, dearest brother of mine, if you mean to continue standing there criticising us, then be warned that I’ll tell Ryan how you used to play Barbie dolls with me when I was a little girl.’
Nico backed up a step and pointed behind him. ‘I’ll, uh, leave you to it. I have work to do.’ He turned and fled.
Ryan stared after him. Had he really played dolls with his little sister? He glanced at Marianna, who was having a second attempt at getting the nappy on, and then at the door again. The guy couldn’t be all bad.
‘Ryan?’
He turned to face her more fully. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m sorry about my brother.’
‘No apology needed. And thank you.’ He gestured to the table, the doll and the pile of nappies. ‘This was a great idea. I’m going to have to start practising.’ He was going to be the best damn nappy changer the Amatucci clan had ever seen.
* * *
Marianna watched Ryan put, oh, yet another diaper on the doll, his face a mask of determination, and something inside her softened. He was trying so hard. ‘You’re getting better,’ she offered.
‘We’re going to run out of diapers soon.’
It was sweet too that he called them diapers now, probably for her benefit. ‘We can get more.’
He glanced at her; his eyes danced for a moment, bringing out the deep blue in their depths that so intrigued her. ‘I’ll make a deal with you, Mari...’
The easy shortening of her name and the familiarity it implied made her break out in delicious gooseflesh. It’s a lie—an illusion. She couldn’t forget that. ‘A deal?’
‘I’ll be the main diaper changer if you take on the role of dealing with Junior’s tears and temper.’
‘We’d need to be co-parenting together full-time for that kind of deal to work.’ It was starting to hit her how difficult single parenthood was going to be. Sure, Ryan wanted to be involved, but they both knew the bulk of the baby’s care would fall to her.
Unless Ryan moved to Monte Calanetti and they agreed to a fifty-fifty child custody arrangement. She bit her lip. She didn’t like that thought. She wanted the baby with her full-time. She rolled her lip between her teeth. Okay, she was honest enough to admit that she might want the occasional night off, but nothing more. She didn’t want the baby spending half its time away from her. She glanced at Ryan to find he’d gone deathly pale. What on earth...?
She went back over their conversation and then rolled her eyes. ‘Get over yourself! I’m not angling for a marriage proposal. We decided against that, remember?’
He searched her face, and slowly his colour returned. He nodded and dragged a hand down his face.
‘I haven’t forgotten. You’re commitment-shy and a lone wolf.’
‘While you have a short attention span when it comes to men.’
She folded her arms and stared at him for a long moment. ‘You’re different from the other men I’ve known, though. This is different—us...we’re different.’ Why was that? ‘But it doesn’t mean I want to marry you.’ She couldn’t fool herself that it meant anything or that it would lead anywhere. ‘I’ve never stayed friends with any of my previous lovers.’ That probably had something to do with it.
‘Me neither.’
‘And I’ve certainly never had a baby with anyone before.’
He raised both hands. ‘Nor I.’
‘So obviously this is going to be different from any other experience we’ve had before, right?’
‘Absolutely.’
She glanced at him but it wasn’t relief that trickled through her. The itch she couldn’t reach, the one right in the middle of her back between her shoulder blades, pricked with a renewed ferocity that made her grit her teeth. Her skin prickled, her stomach clenched, and a roaring hunger bellowed thro
ugh her with so much ferocity it was all she could do not to scream. Sleeping with Ryan would sate that itch and need, soothe the burn and bite. Sleeping with Ryan would quieten the fears racing through her and—
‘Don’t look at me like that, Marianna!’
She started, the hunger in his eyes making her sway towards him, but he shook his head and took a step back. Instinct told her that if she continued to stare at him so boldly, so...lustfully, he’d seize her in his arms, kiss her and they probably wouldn’t even make it to her bedroom.
She craved that like a drug. She craved it more than she’d ever craved anything. To fall into Ryan’s arms and lose herself in a world of sensation and physical gratification, what a dream! But... What she felt for Ryan was different from what she’d felt for anyone. The intensity of it frightened her. She didn’t want this man breaking her heart. That’d be a disaster. Through their child, they’d be tied to each other for the rest of their lives. It’d leave her no room to get over him.
She gripped the back of a chair and dragged her gaze from his. Pulling the chair out, she fell into it. ‘I really, really can’t wait for the time when you become boring. I... I have things to do.’ With that she leapt up and strode away, and all the while her fickle heart urged her to turn back and throw herself into Ryan’s arms, to throw caution to the wind.
* * *
Ryan pounced on his phone the moment it rang. ‘Ryan White.’
‘It’s confirmed. Conti Industries are getting cold feet,’ his assistant in Rome said without preamble. She knew his impatience with small talk and had learned long ago to get straight to the point. Time was money.
‘Why?’ Was someone conducting a smear campaign, attempting to discredit him?
‘It appears the fact that you’re not personally in Rome at the moment has them questioning your commitment.’
Damn it! He wheeled away, raking a hand back through his hair. He’d been afraid this would happen—that Conti Industries would develop cold feet. Why on earth had he promised to stay in Monte Calanetti for a whole month? He needed his head read!
He straightened, moving immediately into damage control. ‘Can you arrange a meeting?’
‘I already have.’
He let out a breath. ‘That’s the reason I pay you the big bucks.’ Face-to-face with the Conti Industries’ executive committee he’d be able to turn things around, prove their former faith in him wasn’t a mistake.
‘But it’s this afternoon. You need to get down here pronto.’
Today!
‘I tried making it for tomorrow, but they insisted. They’re viewing this meeting as, quote, “a validation of your commitment to their project and your ability to deliver”. They’ve left me in no doubt that agreeing to meet is an unprecedented demonstration of faith. I don’t need to tell you what’ll happen if you miss this meeting.’
He pressed his lips together. No, she didn’t. If he weren’t in Rome this afternoon, the whole deal would go down the gurgler. He thrust out his jaw. He wasn’t letting that happen. Not without a fight.
‘I’ll be there,’ he said, bringing the call to an abrupt end.
He glanced through his electronic diary as he hauled on a suit. The only thing he had slotted in was Marianna’s information session this evening. He let out a breath. He’d be able to catch up on that another time. He slipped a tie around his collar and tied a perfect Windsor knot. He’d ring her later to let her know he couldn’t make it.
As he drove away from the vineyard a short time later the rush of chasing the big deal sped through him, filling him with adrenaline and fire. He’d missed that cut-and-thrust this past week. This was the world where he belonged, not decorating nurseries. Drumming his fingers against the car’s steering wheel, he wondered if he could cut his time at Marianna’s vineyard a week or two short.
* * *
Marianna glanced at her watch and paced the length of her living room before whirling back. It was ten past six. Where was Ryan? The information session at the clinic started in twenty minutes!
She’d reminded him about it this morning. He’d told her he hadn’t forgotten, that it was in his diary, that he’d drive them. So where was he?
She glanced at her watch again. Eleven minutes past six. With a growl, she dialled his mobile number and pressed her phone to her ear. It went straight to voicemail. Brilliant. ‘Where are you? The session starts in nineteen minutes! I can’t wait any longer. I’ll meet you at the clinic.’
Seizing her car keys, she stormed out and drove herself to the town’s medical clinic. She’d just parked when her phone buzzed in her handbag. A text. From Ryan.
Something came up. In Rome. Won’t be back till tomorrow. Sorry, couldn’t be helped. Meeting very important. Will make next info session.
He couldn’t even be bothered to ring her?
She stared at the screen. Blinking hard, she shoved the phone back into her bag. Right, well, she knew exactly where she and the baby stood in the list of Ryan’s priorities—right at the very bottom.
How on earth did either one of them think this was going to work?
* * *
‘Don’t even think about it!’
Marianna spun around, clutching her chest, to find Ryan—with hands on his hips—silhouetted in the large cellar door. As he was backlit by the sun she couldn’t see his face, but she had a fair inkling that he was glaring at her. She gestured to the barrel, her heart pounding. ‘It’s empty.’
He moved forward and effortlessly lifted it onto her trolley.
She swallowed and tried to smile. ‘See? Not heavy.’
He stabbed a finger at her. ‘You shouldn’t be lifting anything. You should be looking after yourself.’
She batted his finger away. ‘Stop being such a mother hen. I’m used to this kind of manual labour. It won’t hurt the baby.’
‘But why take the risk?’ He gestured to the barrel. ‘You must have staff here who can take care of these things for you?’
Of course they did, but she didn’t want anyone thinking she couldn’t do her job. She didn’t want anyone thinking she was using her pregnancy as an excuse to slacken off. She wanted everyone to see how steady and professional she’d become since returning from Australia. She wanted everyone to see how she’d developed her potential, wanted them to say what a talent she was, what an asset for Vigneto Calanetti.
‘I don’t want to lose my fitness or my strength, Ryan. I’ll need them for when I return to work after my maternity leave.’
He blinked.
‘I’m going to need both for the labour too.’ The information evening had brought that home to her with stunning—and awful—clarity. The information evening he hadn’t attended so what right did he think he had ordering her around like this now?
He frowned. ‘You’re active—always on the go. I don’t think you need to worry on that head.’
Ha! If he, Nico and Angelo had any say in the matter she wouldn’t lift a finger for the next six and a half months. Well, at dinner on Saturday night she’d show her brothers how accomplished and capable she’d become. She’d wow them with her new house, a superb dinner and marvellous conversation. They’d realise she was a woman in charge of her own destiny—they’d stop worrying she’d screwed up her life and...and they’d all move forward from there.
‘Are you worried about the labour?’
‘Not a bit of it,’ she lied. She straightened. ‘How was your meeting in Rome?’
‘Yes, I’m so sorry about that. It really couldn’t be helped.’
Why wasn’t he asking about the info session? She tried to keep the disapproving tone out of her voice. ‘Did you come looking especially for me? Was there something you needed?’
‘Just a break from painting for a bit.’ He grimaced. ‘The smell can become a little overwhelming.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think about—’
‘I’m enjoying it. Don’t apologise. It’s just... I found myself curious about what you do al
l day and—’ he gestured around ‘—this place.’
So he was interested in her work, but not their baby. She had to remind herself that the idea of a baby was still very new to him, and that at least he was trying. And she couldn’t wholly blame him—to her mind vineyards and wineries were fascinating.
He rolled his shoulders. ‘I mean, you leave at the crack of dawn each day.’
She suddenly laughed. ‘Ryan, I’m not leaving early to avoid you. I’ve always been a lark and I love checking the vines in the early morning when everything is fresh and drenched in dew. It means I can have the afternoons free if I want.’ At his look she added, ‘At the moment there’s a certain amount of work that needs to be done, but it doesn’t really matter when I do it.’
‘The convenience of being your own boss.’
‘Don’t you believe it. Nico is the boss here. Don’t let his easy-going mildness fool you. He has a killer work ethic.’
‘Easy-going?’ he choked. ‘Mild?’
She laughed at his disbelief and led him out of the door and gestured to the row upon row of vines marching up the hill, all starting to flower. Those flowers might not be considered pretty, but she thought them beautiful. And if each of them were properly pollinated they’d become a glorious luscious grape. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’
He blew out a long breath and nodded.
‘I can offer our child a good home, Ryan. A good life.’
‘I know that.’
She hoped he did. ‘Would you like a tour of our facilities here?’
‘I’d love that.’ He suddenly frowned. ‘But only because I’m curious, not because I doubt you.’
She wasn’t so convinced, but she showed him everything. She showed him what she looked for in a grape and what she was working towards. She took him to see the presses, the fermentation vats and the aging vessels. She even took him into the bottling room. She ended the tour at the cellar door where she had him try several of their more renowned wines.