At her touch his expression changed and he turned his face, his eyes locking with hers. She was shocked to identify tears in his eyes, and suddenly the reality of the baby and what it meant to him began to hit home.
Already he loved this baby. Already it was a part of him. Yet for her, the pregnancy still felt so foreign. Even the visual evidence on the screen beside her didn’t seem real.
The sense of division and separation between herself and Draco yawned like a chasm between them. As if he sensed her thoughts, he gently squeezed her fingers then let her hand go.
“May I have a print-out of the screen?” he asked, his voice surprising Blair with how level it was.
“Sure you can, here I’ll print you one each.”
Blair wanted nothing more than to curl herself up into a ball in the darkest corner of her bedroom and weep. But even that was lost to her, since her father had moved back into the tiny accommodation in preparation for taking over the management of the restaurant. Now she was back in Draco’s apartment, and if the sense of dispossession she felt was any indicator, going to the palazzo in a few days’ time was going to be even worse.
Draco settled back into the deep, comfortable leather seat of the charter jet that was taking them home. The week had been a blur of activity, tying off any loose ends to do with his business both in New Zealand and across the Tasman in Australia. He’d barely spent any time with Blair, although he doubted she minded that much at all.
All week he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the sonogram he kept in his pocket. He’d never attended any of Marcella’s checkups with her, he’d always been too busy with work, and she’d understood that—never demanding his company. Now he began to realize all he’d missed out on. It didn’t alter the measure of his grief for her or their baby, but he silently vowed he would not be so distant this time.
By the time they reached the private airfield on the outskirts of the Sandrelli land near San Gimignano, they were both weary of travel. The stopovers en route had done little to break the tension between them, and despite the fact that Blair had rested in the private sleeping quarters for several hours, he could tell she was near to dropping with exhaustion. He made a mental note to ensure the obstetrician he’d engaged for her and the baby’s care would come to the palazzo.
He wondered how she would find things there now. It would be totally different for her. A temporary home instead of a holiday venue.
The customs officers who met them at the airfield were polite and efficient, welcoming Draco back to his homeland in voluble Italian. Inch by inch, he began to feel his body ease into the rhythms of his land, into the undeniable sense of rightness and belonging he experienced every time he came home. His heart swelled with the thought that, in time, his child would know this feeling too. Would embrace the wide world with all its glories, but would eternally want to return to its roots.
It had been just over six weeks since he’d left, and the land had awakened from the lingering chill of winter that had extended into March. Around them, fields were ablaze with the fire of poppies and the golden glow of wild mustard.
Yes, it was good to be back.
Once the official requirements had been met, Draco ushered Blair into the waiting limousine. As they neared the palazzo, Draco looked around him with great eagerness, observing the various plantings that sustained part of the business enterprises of the Sandrelli Corporation. Olive groves, in the peak of health, marched like a giant green army over the gently rolling hills, while on the rise of land leading up to the palazzo lay row upon row of grape vines. At the top of the hill, inured against marauding invaders by a 16th century stone wall, stood the palazzo. Home.
It was good to return to what were essentially the grass roots of his heritage.
He flicked a glance at Blair. She sat pale and rigid on the seat, her eyes fixed out her window. She had barely said a dozen words on this final leg of the journey. He hoped she would be able to relax, once settled back into the palazzo. For both her sake and the baby’s.
Once inside the palazzo, Draco led Blair to her room.
“This is different from where I stayed before, isn’t it?” Blair noted as they went up a wide staircase to the next floor.
“Yes, this leads to my private quarters. Where you stayed before was the wing we have reserved for guests, both corporate-and tourism-related.”
“I had no idea the accommodation was so extensive here. I really only saw such a small part of it, didn’t I?”
Draco nodded, his mouth pulling into a wry smile. If you counted the commercial kitchen, where the culinary tour classes were given, and her sleeping quarters of the time, the part she saw was indeed small.