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A sudden flutter in her middle had her sitting up straight, her hand still on her bump. “Oh!”

“What is it?” Christos asked in immediate concern.

“I think…” Rose shook her head in wonder. “I think I just felt the baby kick.”

A look of tenderness and hope came over Christos’s face, softening his usually stern features. “You did?”

“Yes…just a little. I’m twenty weeks now, so I guess this is around the time I could feel it.” Impulsively she reached for his hand and put it on her bump. “See if you can feel it.”

Smiling faintly, he rested his hand there, with Rose’s on top of it. She smiled back at him, hoping, praying that they could share this moment. Then she felt another flutter.

“There! Did you feel it?” she asked.

* * *

Christos kept his hand on Rose’s bump, knowing how important this moment was to her, and how much she wanted him to share it. He kept his smile as he replied quietly, “I think so.”

He hadn’t felt anything, which wasn’t really a surprise, since if Rose was just starting to feel flutters, it was unlikely he’d be able to feel them from the outside. His usual coolheaded analysis, but another part of him felt the loss. The loneliness, because even if it wasn’t meant to be, this felt like a reminder that the baby wasn’t his. That he would never know what it felt like to rest a hand on the swelling bump of a woman he loved and share that magic, that bond.

Carefully he removed his hand from Rose’s middle, making sure to hold on to his smile. “What are your plans for the day?”

“I was going to paint this morning,” she said, her eyes becoming shadowed as she scanned his face as if looking for clues. Maybe she felt his sadness; they’d certainly become more attuned to each other over the last few weeks. He felt as if he experienced every emotion she did, a magnetic pull of understanding and empathy he’d never felt before.

And yet, he acknowledged on a silent sigh, he was not experiencing this.

“But this afternoon,” Rose continued, her gaze still scanning his face, “maybe we could do something together?” A blush came to her cheeks. Christos wondered if she was thinking, as he was, about what he would like them to do together. It had taken a huge amount of self-restraint these last few weeks to keep to kisses when he ached to pull Rose toward him and lose himself in her completely.

“Yes, of course,” he said, widening his smile. “I’ll see you at lunch.” He bent to give her a kiss that ended up being lingering, as they so often were, his hand resting on the back of her head as her eyes fluttered close and a soft sigh escaped her. “Till then,” he murmured against her mouth. Then, dropping his hand from her head, he walked quickly from the room.

He meant to get right to work, but a restlessness had taken hold of him that he knew would keep him from concentrating. He headed outside instead, the day already turning hot even though it was still quite early in the morning. He stood on the terrace for a moment, letting the balmy breeze wash over him as he gazed out at Lake Maggiore, its water shimmering a deep, pure blue under the summer sun.

Why, Christos wondered, did he feel so restless? It wasn’t just the unsated desire that had been raging through him for the last few weeks, although that certainly played a part. But this felt deeper than mere physical need. It was a sense that he was taking something he shouldn’t, something he didn’t deserve and had no right to—marriage, happiness, a child.

All things he’d accepted long ago he would never have, because in his world, his culture, a man who could not provide children and heirs couldn’t have any of those things. His father had certainly thought that way. When he closed his eyes, Christos could still see the disappointed, even grief-stricken lines of his father’s face when he’d learned that his son and heir was infertile. He’d turned to Luca, his only hope. Christos’s purpose, more so even than in childhood, had been to keep his brother, the new heir, safe.

And he hadn’t. He’d failed, which meant he deserved all these good things even less. In truth, he didn’t deserve them at all.

“You seem troubled.”

His mother’s voice, coming from behind him, sounded both soft and shrewd. Briefly Christos closed his eyes, the dazzling morning light shimmering across his closed lids.

“Just thinking.”

“Why so serious, caro?” his mother asked gently, coming to rest a hand on his arm. “Everything is coming together so beautifully. Rose, she is already in love with you, I am sure of it. And you, I think, are a little in love with her, yes? Maybe more than a little.” There was a hint of laughter in his mother’s voice that made Christos shake his head.

“Madre…” he said, a warning.

“Don’t fight it, Christos,” she said gently. “It is a beautiful thing for both of you. And for us as a family. We are safe now, thanks to you. We are saved.”

Christos jerked his head in the semblance of a nod. He could not bear to explain to his mother that he didn’t feel like he deserved any of this, that the salvation had come not from him but from Luca, from the grave, and he was merely taking what belonged to his brother after he’d failed him. He knew that was an unreasonable way to feel, that Rose had never been anything close to Luca’s, had never even met him, but the sense of unworthiness remained. It always had.

“Let it happen,” his mother advised. “You are always so serious, my son, always so worried, but this…this can just be joy.”

Joy. He so wanted to believe it. To revel in it, and yet such emotions felt utterly beyond him. But maybe, Christos reflected sorrowfully, his ultimate act of service, of sacrifice, to his family was to marry Rose, to live out this life, all the while feeling like he didn’t deserve it. Hiding his own hurt and shame for the sake of those he loved—including Rose, because he knew his mother was right. He was in love with her, and more than a little. And yet if she married him, he would be depriving her of the chance of future children, of the life she might long for, even if she said she didn’t.

Could he really do that for the sake of his family? Rose had insisted that wasn’t an issue, but could she even make that decision now? And could he take the life he’d never expected to have for his own and pretend he’d somehow earned it, deserved it?

“Enjoy it,” his mother whispered, squeezing his arm, and Christos only wished that he could.