I’d put a hand on his arm just in time to stop him.
Whatever Brando had been told in his office must have been weighing on his mind, and the doctor situation only fed his frustration. It was a near or miss thing.
He had no clue that his father had sent them over. Finding out that the men were doctors cooled him some, but he was still on edge.
Leaving me with a brisk “get ready” he disappeared into the snow-thick air, headed toward his parents’ chalet. But not before he made a quick call to my doctor. Whatever he told her, or offered her, it was enough to get her to Zermatt after Christmas for my first appointment.
It was starting to grate on me that Brando continued to keep the situation with Cesare close to his heart and didn’t share the details with me. He’d become even more protective of me since I was pregnant, needing to shield me from the life that we found ourselves in.
Sighing, I turned to check my reflection in the mirror. It was a struggle to button my jeans. I’d decided on a long-sleeved black leotard top, high-waisted jeans, boots, and two gold cuff bracelets on my wrists—Brando had given them to me from one of my favorite Italian jewelers.
The jeans hugged me in all the right spots, but there was a pouch to add to the curves. It wasn’t extremely obvious, but it was obvious enough to me. My body knew the drill and was accommodating the new arrangements.
After my hair and makeup were done and I was all dressed and ready to go, Eunice came in and gave Mia to me. She kept touching my eyes and lips, my jewelry, in awe at all the colors and shiny things. She was such a girl.
She and I carried on a conversation, giggling at each other, until Brando came home.
A strong urge to question him about the time at his parents’ chalet hit me, but I decided to wait until later to ask him about it. Though the walk seemed to have cooled him off, literally and metaphorically, there was still a briskness to him that I hoped melted by the time we got to town.
“Let me see you,” he said in Italian after he stood in the doorway for a minute or two, watching us have fun.
He took Mia before I had the chance to rise from the bed. Smothering her in Italian kisses, he muttered in the same language about how she smelled just like me.
Once up, I stood before him, my cheeks hot. His eyes had the power to catch my clothes on fire. With a slow-burning intensity, he started with my eyes and then moved lower, inch by inch, consuming me until even the pads of my feet felt blistered.
“One word,” I whispered, because I couldn’t take my eyes away from him.
“Mouthwatering.”
“Oh,” I said. “I like that one.”
“Those jeans.” He nodded. “Sto sbavando.”
“I don’t see any drool,” I said, teasing him.
He growled deep in his throat and then licked his lips.
“Mamma is so beautiful, isn’t she, Mia?” He turned the conversation in another direction, since Mia growled her best growl and then started licking her lips, mimicking him.
I laughed so hard that I almost popped the button on my jeans.
“Amma!” Mia pointed at me and then hooked a finger in her mouth, like she’d baited herself.
“Mmamma,” he said, emphasizing theMmsound. “You’re just like her. The most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.”
She rested her head against his shoulder, tucking her head in, touching his cheek. Perhaps she understood the words, but more than that, I believed she understood his tone and felt his love.
“Let’s get her ready so we can go,” I said.
If not, I’d melt into a puddle and never be able to detach myself from this moment. And I didn’t want to take Mia out in the cold after she’d fallen asleep.
“I need to change first,” he said. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Exactly a few minutes later, he was ready to go. He looked almost like the man who stole my heart years ago. His sweater was soft, his jeans worn, and his boots rugged looking. He smelled of spiced wood and light musk, a subdued melody from his cologne.
“One word,” I said to him. “Always.”
“Reminiscing,” he said.
