The children were the first to notice her presence. The toddlers stopped running around, and the eldest, Marcia’s boy Enrico, pulled himself up out of the pool and made his way across the marble slabs, dripping water.
“Abby. Look how much I’ve grown!” he called to her.
A lump stuck in her throat. Enrico had grown, and grown uncannily like his uncle. Emotion threatened to throttle her. This is what Dante’s son would probably looklike. Their son.
The urge to pull Enrico close and hug him soundly almost overwhelmed her, but she caught herself in time to avert a drenching. “You’ll be as tall as your mother soon.” Enrico beamed back, turned, and did a running dive into the pool, checking when he bobbed up to see that his showing off had been observed.
The three women seated in the shade rose as she approached the table. Katarina held out her arms. Dante’s mother’s eyes welled with emotion. It seemed the most natural thing on earth for Abby to walk into her open arms.
“I’m so thankful you’ve come home. My son needs you as much as you need him. The family needs you. Whatever Dante did, I’m pleased you’ve forgiven him. Anger’s not healthy.”
“I have never hated your son. I have always loved him.”
Katarina drew back and patted Abby’s cheek. “Of course you have. That’s why you’ve come home where you belong.”
Abby was silent. Katarina had kept in contact while her son had not. She’d forever made not-so-subtle hints that a wife should be by her husband’s side and that marriage took work.
She couldn’t meet Katarina’s gaze. What would Katarina or any of them think of her if they knew the truth? That Dante had blackmailed her back into his bed to ensure he saved Katarina’s home and memories. They probably would find some excuse for him. He was, after all, Conte Dante Lombardi. The family’s lineage was hundreds of years old. If Dante has no son, the title reverts back to the state. Every Lombardi would want to protect their heritage.
“Pietro, can you please ask Rachele to bring us a fresh pot of coffee?” Katarina called into the house.
It was Marcia’s turn to hug her. “Come sit down. Tell us what you’ve been doing while you’ve been away. As you can see I’ve been keeping busy. This is Antonio, he’s almost one year old, and this little bambino is Ronaldo.”
“Not bambino, big boy!” The enraged terror barreled across the paving slabs back to the pool.
Salice laughed. “It’s been like a baby factory in the three years you’ve been away. I’ve had Caprice.”
“I met her this morning. Hello gorgeous!” Abby leaned over and tickled the baby in Salice’s arms. Caprice giggled and reached for Abby. It was an automatic reaction to pull the squirming bundle into her lap.
“She likes you,” Katarina said. “You’re a natural. Now that you are home, I expect it won’t be long before you’ll be adding to my list of grandchildren. Dante needs an heir. My daughter’s children cannot inherit. It has to be a child from the male line.”
Salice groaned. Katarina rounded on her. “Don’t start, Salice. You know that’s how it is. Only a son’s children can inherit the title and the estate. If Dante does not have a son, the family loses the title. Admittedly, only Dante seems to care about this. Tradition means a lot to him.”
“It’s so old-fashioned, and it puts too much pressure on him. He takes his role as head of this family far too seriously. He does nothing but work. If he’s not careful, he’ll find an early grave like Papa.”
Katarina crossed herself. “Don’t even joke about that, Marcia. Your brother works for this family. For his wife.” She smiled encouragingly at Abby. “For his children.”
“Give her a chance to breathe, Mamma. She’s only just arrived back. Are you back for good?” Salice asked casually while pouring her a coffee.
“Or will you bolt at the first sign of trouble again?” added Marcia.
Katarina spoke harshly in Italian and Dante’s sisters looked at her sheepishly. But Abby’s mind was on Katarina’s last statement. She knew Dante’s father had died at a young age but had never discussed the actual details. Was Dante working himself into an early grave? Was heill? Is that why he had insisted on this arrangement? Fear clawed at her stomach, and Caprice gave a little cry as Abby’s hold tightened.
Abby’s eyes swept across the three women. “Dante’s not ill, is he? You’d tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn’t you?”
Dante’s mother slapped Marcia’s hand. “Look what you have done. You’ve worried Abby.” She gave Abby a reassuring smile. “My son is as fit as an ox and as stubborn as a mule. He is not ill. My husband died of cancer.”
Abby’s stomach tightened further and she could feel smothering darkness begin to engulf her. There was medical evidence that cancer could be hereditary. “What type of cancer?”
“He had prostate cancer. Very aggressive in a man so young.”
Think. Yesterday she’d asked Dante if he were ill and he’d denied it. No, wait, he hadn’t. He’d asked her if he looked ill, avoiding an answer to the question altogether. Is this why it was so important that she return to his life and his bed?
Katarina leaned over and hugged her so hard Caprice wiggled and squealed in her arms. She whispered in Abby’s ear, “He is fine, cara. A mother knows these things. I would know if he was sick.”
Abby’s dread did not fade with Katarina’s reassurance. It sat like ice in her stomach.
Even though she’d left him, she would hate to ever learn of a world without Dante in it. If Dante were ill, he wouldn’t want his family, especially his mother, to worry. His mother and sisters had no idea why she had returned. They didn’t know he’d blackmailed her back into his life. She wondered if Katarina would be so sure of her son’s health if she knew the truth.
