The boat pulled up at the ospedale dock and there was a medical team waiting.
It all happened so quickly. She was admitted after a cursory examination, and there was enough concern on the nurse’s face to make Matteo wonder if she was gravely ill.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked, once she was ensconced in her own room.
No one answered. They were all busy working, checking her vital signs, rolling her onto her side and inspecting her head, checking for the damage that was causing the bleeding. A nurse drew several vials of blood and raced them from the room.
And then he was waiting, standing beside her bed, wondering what had happened, wondering if she’d be okay.
After an interminable time, a woman in a white coat entered the room and moved towards Matteo, her smile reassuring. ‘She is your wife?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’ The word was hardened by years of being in command. Of calling the shots and asking the questions. ‘How is she?’
‘She’s had a bump to the head, but it doesn’t look too serious. Unfortunately, the tests we’d usually run to be sure are obviously impossible at the moment. She may be a little groggy when she wakes, possibly for a day or so. I don’t anticipate any other complications, though.’
None of her words eased Matteo’s concern. ‘What happened to her?’
‘My guess would be that she passed out. It’s not unusual, in her condition. The heat of the day wouldn’t have helped—’
‘Wait a moment,’ he said, lifting a hand to stop her. ‘What condition?’
The doctor pulled a face. ‘You don’t know?’
‘Know what, dottore?’
‘About the baby?’
The world stopped spinning. No. It lurched catastrophically off its axis, sucking Matteo with it. He was in freefall as the doctor’s words filtered through his mind. ‘What baby?’ he asked, the question gravelled.
‘Your wife is pregnant. It’s very early stages—it’s quite by accident that the nurse even tested for it. Does she know?’
Hell.
Matteo’s eyes were dragged to Skye, still so peaceful-looking. Despite the fact her dark hair was matted around her, her eyes were shut and she looked serene. Had she known?
I never want to see you, ever again.
A muscle clenched in his jaw. Had she really been planning to divorce him and keep their child from him?
An ache spread through him, an ache of misery and disbelief. Of anger and rage. Skye wasn’t capable of that deception, surely?
She couldn’t have known.
‘She hadn’t mentioned it,’ he said with a hint of the ruthless determination that had seen him rebuild a once-great empire from its ashes and ruins. But his mind was reeling. Shock was seeping through him.
Skye was pregnant? And she’d come to him, seeking a divorce? A divorce he’d agreed to because he’d known he owed her that much; because he’d wanted her to be happy. And he’d thought he was done making stupid, emotion-driven decisions!
Would Skye have insisted on a divorce if she’d known about the baby? He couldn’t believe it of his wife. And yet, she was the daughter of that bastard Johnson. Did he really have any idea what she was capable of?
His brow was fevered as he replayed every detail of their meeting, looking for signs that she knew her condition. Had she touched her stomach at all? What else would a pregnant woman do? He had no clue.
Hell.
The idea of a baby had never even really occurred to him; foolish, given how often they’d come together.
‘Perhaps she has not been symptomatic.’ The doctor shrugged, as though it didn’t matter. As though it weren’t the most important news Matteo had received in his life. As though Skye’s knowledge or lack thereof wouldn’t change everything.
How could he forgive her if she’d planned to keep it from him?