"It makes no difference what I want," came her mutinous response.

"Of course it does," he placated gently. "I'd stay if you wanted me to."

"What about your important business?" She asked sarcastically.

"You're more important," he said softly.

"You mean the baby I'm carrying is more important?" she corrected and his jaw clenched.

"No, that's not what I meant," he maintained patiently and she blinked before shaking her head.

"You're trying to confuse me," she complained frowning at him and he grinned.

"Not at all, sweetheart," he murmured. "I'm just trying to be honest with you."

"Well, stop it, I don't believe anything you say anymore," she hissed, pushing herself away from the table and he sighed getting up as well.

"You didn't answer my question," he had the nerve to prompt and her glare deepened until she looked like a bad-tempered child.

"No, I want you to go off and take care of whatever business you have in Italy. I would hate to keep you from something important, only to have it thrown back into my face at a later date." His jaw clenched at her vitriolic words but he didn't respond. She got up abruptly, sick of the conversation and the company.

"Excuse me, I have to get ready for my appointment," she snapped, turning to leave the room.

"I still want you to stay with your cousin while I'm gone," he insisted, directing his words to her narrow back as she retreated from the room.

"And I still say no to that," she threw over her shoulder.

"This subject is far from closed, Theresa," he raised his voice slightly as she moved further away from him but she waved a dismissive hand as she turned a corner that she knew would take her out of his sight. Once she got to her bedroom, she sank down onto the bed and inhaled shakily, feeling drained.

Lisa was unable to join her for the amniocentesis, Rhys had a medical check up and naturally that took priority. So Theresa found herself waiting alone, a nervous wreck even though she knew that the odds of anything going wrong were slim. She fidgeted, flipped through magazines, chatted with other women in various stages of pregnancy but through it all she just wished that Sandro was there with her. The other women were all accompanied by their partners or friends and Theresa had never felt so achingly alone before. She was so deeply buried in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the person sitting down next to her until her husband's deep voice rumbled in her ear.

"Why is your cell phone off? I've been trying to reach you all morning," she jumped in fright before blinking up at him stupidly, not quite sure how he came to be there. He grinned down into her confused face and Theresa found herself responding helplessly to the open warmth of that smile, rewarding him with a blinding one of her own.

"What are you doing here?" She asked breathlessly and he shrugged.

"When I couldn't reach you, I tried Lisa and when she told me that she was at the clinic with Rhys, I realised that you were probably here all alone and thought you might need some moral support," he explained casually.

"B.but what about your work?"

"It'll keep..."

"You didn't have to come, I was okay on my own," she felt obligated to protest.

"Theresa, you visibly paled every time the mention of this appointment came up. It's obvious that you find the thought of this procedure daunting. I couldn't let you face it on your own," so much for thinking she had kept her fear and reservations well hidden from him. He seemed able to read her like an open book.

"I'm not really scared," she said with more bravado than conviction and he determinedly bit back the smile that was curling up the sides of his mouth.

"You might not be but I am terrified, cara," he shuddered slightly. "Needles... big needles especially, are not my thing." She could tell by the way he paled at the thought that he was entirely sincere. She stared into his eyes for the longest time, getting lost in the melting chocolate depths before shaking herself slightly.

"Thank you for coming, Sandro," she finally whispered. "I was a bit intimidated by the thought of this procedure." The confession cost a lot but she was rewarded by the warm, intimate smile he directed at her.

"It'll be fine," he a.s.sured quietly, unexpectedly linking his fingers with hers. "You'll see." Even though there was no logical reason for it, her reservations melted like ice under the hot sun and she smiled gratefully.

In the end, Theresa sailed through the procedure, after some initial discomfort she was fine, it was Sandro who had difficulty with proceedings. Apparently he hadn't been lying when he said he didn't like big needles and when he saw the 7.5 centimetre needle he swayed enough for a nurse to hurriedly bring a stool over for him to sit on; he had thanked her but manfully chose to stand instead. That macho display of coolness lasted only long enough for them to insert the needle into her abdomen when he paled dramatically and practically collapsed onto the provided stool, keeping his eyes determinedly away from the needle and on Theresa's amused face.

"Once, when I was ten," she started talking to distract him. "I fell out of a tree..." that certainly caught his attention.

"What were you doing up a tree?" He sounded unflatteringly sceptical. "You don't strike me as the tomboy type."

"I wasn't... but there was this poor little kitten stuck up there and I was a complete sucker for animals," she shrugged, wincing slightly when the needle pinched more, his hand tightened around hers, while the doctor cheerfully informed them that it was "nearly over".

"So what happened?" He asked softly.

"Well, Lisa was with me and she was desperately trying to reason with me but I wouldn't listen," she shook her head. "Sometimes I can be a bit stubborn." He snorted at that.

"No! Really?" She tilted her chin up and chose to ignore his sarcasm.

"Just as I was leaning out and reaching for that stupid cat, he hissed at me, scratched my hand and climbed back down," she felt the pinching sensation gradually decrease as the needle was withdrawn from her abdomen. "But the cat had scared me and I lost my balance before tumbling out of the tree."

"What happened after that?" He seemed riveted even though the doctor was stepping away from the table.

"I broke my arm and I've disliked cats since that day," she confessed sheepishly. He chuckled before unexpectedly leaning over her and dropping a quick kiss on her forehead. "I don't know why I just told you that story... you just looked in need of distraction."

"And how," he acknowledged shakily. "I'm still feeling a little queasy after seeing that needle..." he swallowed and paled again. "I don't know how you could do that without anaesthetic?"

The doctor had offered her a shot to numb the area but one huge needle was bad enough, Theresa hadn't been enamoured with the thought of having to deal with two.

"It was a little uncomfortable," she admitted as the nurse helped her sit up. "But not too bad."

After dressing she and Sandro anxiously faced her obstetrician across the wide expanse of his desk.

"Right... that went very well, Mr and Mrs De Lucci..." Doctor Shelbourne beamed over his desk at them. "Both you and your baby came through it with flying colours. Right... so no heavy lifting, no s.e.x and no flying for the next couple of days. Try to relax and not overtax yourself. You may experience some cramping for a day or two, that's normal... but if the cramping carries on for too long or is too severe, if it's accompanied by spotting or bleeding, come in immediately." Both Sandro and Theresa paled at that dire warning and Theresa blindly and unthinkingly sought out his hand with hers.

"We should have your results in a couple of weeks," the older man continued cheerfully. "We'll contact you when they arrive."

"Do you think I'm at risk for another miscarriage?" Theresa suddenly asked and the doctor looked surprised by her question.

"Not at all..." he shook his head vehemently.

"But the last time..." she began shakily.

"...was just one of those tragic things that sometimes happen in life. You're healthy, your baby looks healthy, there's no reason you shouldn't carry to term and deliver a perfect baby. Now onto happier topics; would you like to know your baby's s.e.x?"

"You could tell?" Theresa asked with a smile.

"The image was as clear as a bell today," he nodded indulgently.

"No," Sandro suddenly shook his head. "I'd rather not know."

"But Sandro..." she turned to him in surprise but he refused to meet her eyes. "Why don't you want to know?"

"It makes no difference..." nothing he could have said would have hurt her more and she immediately retreated back behind her sh.e.l.l, withdrawing her hand from his. Of course it didn't make a difference, if it was a boy he would leave without getting to know the child and if it was a girl he would be stuck in his unwanted marriage for even longer. He groaned when he saw her expression and immediately grabbed up her hand again. "I really didn't mean it the way you obviously think I did, Theresa."

"It's okay," she informed the doctor, who looked heartily uncomfortable to be witnessing their dispute. "I don't have to know." Not when she was one hundred per cent certain that it was a boy anyway. The doctor nodded and cleared his throat.

"Very well then, my lips are sealed," he nodded, trying to maintain his jovial manner, even though he was still uncomfortable. Sandro said nothing, keeping his eyes on Theresa's determinedly averted face. The doctor added a few more of his usual cautions that she not overtax herself before he dismissed them with a hearty goodbye.

"Just let me explain," Sandro said the moment they were outside the clinic. It was raining and Theresa hurriedly raised the hood of her coat over her head before scurrying for her car. He followed her even though she was still quite obviously ignoring him and keeping her back to him. She fumbled for her car keys in her large bag and he groaned in frustration before dropping his hands onto her narrow shoulders to turn her around. Her face was wet and he sighed deeply as he wiped at the moisture, which could have been tears or rain.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, lowering his head so that she could hear him over the clamour of cars driving by and the freezing rain. "Theresa, that didn't come out right. It didn't mean what you thought it did."

"What does it matter what I think?" She finally asked bitterly.

"It matters," his large hands cupped her face and his forehead lowered to hers. "It matters very much, Theresa."

"No," she shook her head slightly. "It doesn't." She put her hands to his broad chest wanting to push him away but the rain had soaked through his white shirt plastering it to his skin and turning it so transparent that he may as well have been naked, so instead of pushing her hands stroked and petted and he moaned hungrily before touching his lips to hers. Theresa didn't even pretend to fight, she simply melted into him and wrapped her arms around him, digging her fingers into his back as she arched up against him and opened her mouth to his hot, demanding tongue. His hands were wrapped in the wet hair and he tugged her head back to gain better access to her mouth as his tongue hungrily probed at hers, leaving not one inch of her mouth unexplored. The sound of a car horn close by brought them to their senses and they jumped apart guiltily both flushed and breathing rapidly, both shaking uncontrollably. Theresa stared up into Sandro's dazed eyes and blinked at the vulnerability that she thought she saw there.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," he suddenly murmured hoa.r.s.ely and she stared back at him uncomprehendingly.

"You were just being honest," she finally whispered and his brows slammed together in a formidable frown.

"No! I mean... yes I was but... you misunderstood me," he sounded completely muddled and Theresa stared up into his harsh face in wonder, not entirely sure what to make of this overly-emotional man in front of her.

"So make me understand," she finally invited, after a long and uncomfortable pause. He seemed shocked by the invitation and for a moment looked unable to respond.

"I meant that the baby's s.e.x made no difference to me either way because I would love it regardless of what it was," he said in a rush and she gaped up at him incredulously for a moment before placing both hands on his chest and pushing him away violently. He was taken by surprise and staggered back, nearly sprawling to the wet tarmac before catching himself and finding his balance.

"Why would you say that? Why would you lie like that? I don't deserve it, Sandro... I haven't done anything to deserve any of this but you keep finding new and creative ways to hurt me." She went back to fumbling in her bag and finally found her keys.

"Don't try to pretend that you care," she hissed at him. "I know you don't. Five more months of this and you'll be free to go back to your Francesca and start your real life with a real wife and babies that you will really love!" He seemed stunned by her attack but her mention of Francesca brought his eyes sharply up to hers.

"What? Did you think I didn't know about your precious Francesca? The woman you love, the woman you wanted to marry before my father forced you into this sham? I know you see her every time you go back to Italy, just like I know you'll be going to her when you go back this week!" She was practically screaming now, frustrated by the way he simply stood there. Like someone who'd been caught in a bomb blast, he looked dazed and shocked.

She was starting to feel strange, light-headed and nauseous. She braced her hands on the roof of her car and tried to steady herself, aware that Sandro was moving toward her. His hands reached for her and she weakly tried to evade his grasp but the movement made her even dizzier and she swayed slightly. Sandro's arms wrapped around her and she was too faint to really care.

"Theresa, cara. I'm here. You're okay..." were the last desperate words she heard from her husband before everything went black.

"When I said she shouldn't overtax herself, I meant both physically and emotionally Mr de Lucci," Theresa heard the sharp admonishment in the slightly familiar voice and frowned as she tried to hear over the weird buzzing sound in her head. "What on earth were you thinking, upsetting her like this less than half an hour after the procedure she'd just been through?"

"Will she be okay?" Theresa heard Sandro's unusually subdued voice over the rapidly subsiding buzz and she wondered at the strange panicky edge in it.

"She bled a little, which is never a good sign and I'm not willing to take any chances, not after this, I want her to remain in bed for at least a week. Complete bed rest."

"I can't stay in bed all week," Theresa suddenly protested, opening her eyes and Sandro surged forward to grab up one of her limp hands.

"Theresa, thank G.o.d! How are you feeling?"

."Like I was. .h.i.t by a bus," she admitted shakily, lifting her eyes to the doctor who stood on the other side of the cot. "My baby? Is he alright?"

"Your baby's just fine. In fact the baby is doing a h.e.l.l of a lot better than you are right now, Mrs de Lucci. I want you to stay in bed for a week, you are to do nothing, is that understood?"

"I take it that I am allowed bathroom breaks?" She asked sarcastically.

"You can get as snippy as you like with me, young lady but if you want a healthy, full-term baby, you will do what I say! Or I will be forced to hospitalize you to ensure that you get the prescribed bed rest."

"She'll do what you've ordered, doctor," Sandro a.s.sured grimly and Theresa bit her lip and nodded. She wouldn't risk her baby's life out of sheer perversity.

"Right," the doctor seemed satisfied. "I'd like to keep her here for tonight. Tomorrow, you may take her home... and try to get beyond the parking lot this time." With that final admonishment, he turned and left the room, grumbling under his breath as he did so. Theresa and Sandro watched as the door swung shut behind him before turning to face each other awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," they both blurted out simultaneously after a long pause.

"Why are you sorry?" Sandro asked in confusion, dragging up a chair and sitting down beside the bed, still clutching her hand like it was a life preserver and he a drowning man.

"I shouldn't have brought up your private life like that. What you do after we split up is none of my business and after... after everything my father has done to you, I honestly believe that you deserve the happiness you'll find with the woman you love. So I'm sorry for overreacting like a hysterical fishwife, I just... I got so angry after what you said. I don't need empty plat.i.tudes... you don't have to say anything to make me feel better about our situation. You really don't have to pretend to care about me or about the baby." He swore shakily, lifting her hand and resting his forehead on the back of it.

"What an unholy mess I've made of things," he half-laughed, his voice sounding strained. "Nothing I say now will ever make a difference to how you feel, will it? Everything I try to say or do will come across as desperate and insincere."

"What I don't get is why you're still trying?" She whispered in confusion, watching his bowed head intently. "You've won. You have everything you want within your grasp, the vineyard, freedom and yet you keep trying, coming to me with all of these demands to be involved in my life. Why?"

"Why don't we just let it go for now?" He lifted his head to meet her eyes, his own brown gaze liquid with regret. She nodded slightly and he smiled half-heartedly.

"I've called Elisa and ask her to bring you a change of clothes. Are you thirsty?" She nodded shyly and he smiled. "I'll go and get you something to drink, okay?" He stood up and brushed a gentle, slightly shaky, hand over her hair. "You scared the h.e.l.l out of me, Theresa... so from now on you are to remain calm and not let your idiot of a husband upset you again. Okay?"

"Okay," she smiled up into his gentle gaze.

"Good," he leaned over to brush his lips over her forehead. "That's good, Theresa." She watched him leave and sighed softly; wishing that her life could be different and that they were a normal couple, excited about having their first baby. She ran a hand over the slight b.u.mp of her stomach, gently communing with her baby, apologizing for the recklessness that could have cost his life. She was lost in thought, humming a gentle lullaby while she continued to stroke the small baby b.u.mp when she gradually became aware of a presence in the open door. She gasped in surprise, not sure how long he'd been standing there. He stepped forward almost reluctantly, his harsh face more grim than usual. For a man who usually had his emotions sealed up tight he looked like someone who was struggling mightily to keep his expression absolutely neutral, even though the muscles were jumping in his jaw, cords tightening in his neck and his lips were thinned almost to the point of non-existence. Wondering at the incredibly bad job he was doing of pretending to appear completely detached, she was still absently running a hand over her stomach when she gasped and jumped for a completely different reason.

All pretence of detachment tossed aside, Sandro's face paled and his eyes darkened in alarm as he surged toward the cot in the luxurious private room, thumping the bottle of fresh juice down on the cabinet beside the bed.

"What's wrong, Theresa? Are you in pain?" She shook her head, before lifting her beaming face up to his. He stopped short, inhaling sharply at her radiant expression. Her eyes were alight with tears and absolute joy while her lips were parted in the most serene, stunning smile he had ever seen.

"He moved," she breathed in awe. "I just felt him move, Sandro! For the first time..."

"You... he... The baby?" He asked incoherently, moving even closer to the bed and leaning over her small figure.

"Yes... Oh my G.o.d! There he goes again..." She laughed in delight and without thinking grabbed up his large hand and placed it over the gentle flutter, low in her abdomen. His hand was so big; it covered nearly the entire little mound of her stomach. He sucked in a ragged breath when the baby fluttered again as if on cue and uttered a harsh, disbelieving laugh.

"Dio..." he breathed, sounding as awed as she had, keeping his eyes glued on their hands, his on her stomach and her smaller, paler hand resting over his. "Does that hurt, bella mia?"

"No," she giggled. "It kind of tickles..."

"Yes, well, give it a couple of months and it's going to be h.e.l.lishly uncomfortable," a dry voice interjected from the doorway. Theresa squeaked in surprise, lifting her hand from Sandro's while he, keeping his warm hand on her stomach, turned leisurely to face her cousin, Rick and Rhys who were all framed in the doorway, the portrait of a perfect family.

"That was fast," he observed neutrally before, reluctantly, moving aside and removing his hand from her belly. Theresa felt the loss keenly and tried to hide it by smiling brightly at her cousin.

"Thank you for coming," Theresa murmured, her eyes filling up and her cousin moved further into the room, leaning over the bed to hug Theresa warmly.

"Oh darling, I'm always here for you," Lisa whispered into her ear and Theresa, without any warning whatsoever, surprising even herself, burst into tears. "No... oh no, sweetheart, don't..." her cousin was crooning. "Don't upset yourself like this; it's not good for you or the baby."