Page 51 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
Under the light of the porch Massimo looked forbidding, and as if he might refuse, but then he said, ‘Fine—tomorrow morning. You’re taking the day off tomorrow.’
‘But I—’
‘No arguments.’
Feeling like a petulant teenager, Carrie went into the house and escaped to her private suite of rooms. She paced back and forth, her arms around her midriff, as if that could contain the lingering shock at what they’d just discovered.
Not one baby. Two babies. Twins.
For a moment Carrie felt absurdly emotional when she thought of losing her first baby and the awful grief she’d felt. Maybe now she was being given another chance.
She felt absurdly protective of these tiny beings that were only just forming. She thought of what Massimo had said:‘This changes everything.’No. He was wrong. It changed nothing. If anything, knowing there was more at stake now only made it even more important for her to make sure she wasn’t railroaded into anything. Massimo, in spite of his family history, was undoubtedly thinking of marriage again.
But she wasn’t weak and she wasn’t vulnerable—not any more. She was strong and she could stand on her own two feet.
In his office, Massimo couldn’t get Carrie’s face out of his head—the way she’d looked just now under the porch light. Her eyes had been huge pools of sage-green. Shadows underneath. And she was so pale. The sun-kissed glow from their trip to South America was long gone.
When they’d returned to New York from Brazil Massimo had known he wasn’t ready to let her go. He’d actually been considering setting her up in London in her own place. Extending their relationship.
That was one of the reasons he’d felt so exposed when she’d announced her pregnancy. It was as if she’d known and had the trump card to secure her future. But he had to concede now that he hadn’t been thinking clearly. Her insistence since then on maintaining her independence was not just for show.
In any case she would have his protection for life now. She was the mother of his child...children. He felt slightly light-headed at that thought as it sank in again.
Twins. Two babies. Not one. Two. A ready-made family.
Except Carrie didn’t want them to be a family.
And what did he want?
He wanted something he wasn’t even ready to name. Was it out of that well-ingrained sense of responsibility? Or was it more?
Something very fragile was unfurling inside him. The possibility of something he’d never considered before because he’d ruled it out so long ago after losing Ricardo.Love.
He couldn’t keep pretending that what he felt for Carrie was a fleeting thing, or just physical. It was more...and it was deeper.
A sense of resolve filled Massimo’s chest. It was happening whether he liked it or not. A family. And even though it terrified him he wanted it. He wanted the chance to live a different life. To have it all.
All he had to do was convince Carrie that there simply was no other option but for them to unite. In every sense of the word. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘MERRYCHRISTMAS!’
‘Merry Christmas.’
Carrie smiled at the departing guest who was weaving a little unsteadily to a car on the forecourt. As soon as she closed the door, the smile slid from her face.
She put a hand to the small of her back to soothe the slight ache there. She’d been on her feet all day, helping to prepare for Massimo’s legendary Christmas party. Always a fixture on the London social scene, it was the last hurrah for everyone before Christmas Eve the next day.
She felt constricted in her black shirt and trousers. Soon she would have to stop just buying bigger sizes and invest in some actual maternity wear. Maybe even start wearing dresses.
She was still keeping her pregnancy from the rest of the staff, but she’d noticed a few looks lately. With twins, she was definitely bigger than she would be in a regular pregnancy, and she was approaching four months—almost halfway.
She was exhausted from avoiding Massimo for the last couple of weeks.
The morning after the scan he’d been called away on urgent business—something to do with a charitable fund accused of corruption in Bangkok. Ominously, before he’d left, he’d told her that they’d talk when he got back.
Since he’d come home she’d gone to bed early every night, had volunteered to run all the errands that meant going into town, and had made sure she was otherwise generally occupied.
