It was also, she discovered, rather nice to have someone who asked her this kind of thing. It was different from when the doctor asked her—that was professional, while this was personal.
She picked up her fork and speared fish and beans and chewed them like an obedient child. ‘I am eating like a horse—see! Fish, fruit, vegetables and brown rice—with the occasional portion of cherry ice cream thrown in for good measure!’ She gave him a small smile. ‘Does that satisfy you?’
He poured some water. Satisfy him? He couldn’t ever remember being quite so dissatisfied, both physically and emotionally.
Eve watched him as he lifted his eyes to her, and in them was an expression of respect, though made slightly acid by the wry smile which had curved the kissable lips. He looked so irresistible that she felt a sudden desire to be almost biddable…to tell him that it was all going to be all right.
But she didn’t know that, and neither could she do it. She was having to fight down the urge to ask him if they couldn’t just forget all the events which had brought them to this confusing place and this confusing time and start all over again.
But she couldn’t do that either. Too much had happened, and there was a baby on the way. She needed to protect herself against hurt—not just for her sake, but for her baby’s sake. A heartbroken mother would not be able to do her job properly.
Yet she wanted to teach her child—their child—all the things which were important, and surely one of the most fundamental was honesty.
‘You haven’t told me what you feel about this baby, not really,’ she said quietly. ‘Apart from the anger, of course.’
He remembered how it had devoured him, like a great, burning flame. ‘The anger has gone. I should not have reacted so.’
‘I guess it was a natural response.’ Her eyes were very clear. ‘What has replaced it?’
This was difficult for him. He was not a man to put feelings into words, but then this seemed far too important not to, and surely he owed her that. ‘Pride,’ he said simply. ‘And excitement.’
Eve stared at him.
‘You look surprised,’ he observed.
‘That’s because I am.’ She felt a warm and little protective glow deep within her and she realised how much she valued his pride and his excitement. For the baby’s sake.
‘And what about you, Eve?’ he questioned suddenly. ‘What were your feelings?’ This felt like an uncharted domain. Asking a woman a question like that and actually caring what her answer would be.
‘I feel excited, too. Yes, very.’ And more than a little bit scared, too—if the truth were known. But she would not tell him that. She was a grown woman who had to take responsibility for herself. She was not going to start leaning on Luca.
He nodded, but there was something else he needed to know. ‘But not angry?’
She shook her head. ‘No. Not anger—I think it expresses itself differently for women. I felt stupid. Trapped.’
‘I don’t want you to feel trapped.’
‘Just what is it that you do want, Luca?’
She had asked him this question once before and he had surprised himself by not knowing the answer. This time he did. ‘I want to be part of your pregnancy,’ he said. ‘When you see the doctor, I would like to be there, too. When you have your scans, I want to see my baby’s little heart beating.’
Suddenly very emotional, she put her fork down, and stared at her meal, his words making her feel almost unbearably poignant. It took a minute for her to compose herself, and when she looked up again she hoped that he didn’t notice that her eyes were bright. He didn’t mean it how it sounded. It was intimate, yes, but not truly intimate.
She put on her best, practical voice. ‘But how on earth are you going to do that? We live miles apart. I suppose I could send you scans, email you—that kind of thing.’
But he shook his head. ‘No, not second hand,’ he said firmly.
‘How?’ she questioned simply.
‘Give me enough notice and I can fly over for your appointments.’
‘What about your job?’
He looked at her, realising that she had no idea about the nature of his work, but then why would she have? Intellectually, she might be aware that he owned a bank, but she did not live in Italy, she would not know the extent of his power and influence. And since she seemed to have no intention of making any claims on him, he saw no reason not to tell her. It was a curiously liberating feeling not to have to play it down.
‘I am rich enough never to have to work again, Eve,’ he said softly. ‘And certainly in a position to take it easy for a while. I can come and go as I please. I can be there. For the baby.’
And Eve wasn’t at all sure how she felt about that.