Chapter 55: New normal

Bianca

Being home felt surreal. Alessandro had hired a private nurse to check on me twice daily, but mostly it was just the two of us in the suite .

The engagement party was in one week. Danilo visited daily, updating us on preparations and trying to make up for everything . Alessandro was patient with him in a way that made my heart ache.

I was healing well, the pain reduced to a dull throb that medication kept manageable. The incision site was healing cleanly, and I could move more freely each day. Alessandro treated me like spun glass, hovering and worrying and refusing to let me do anything remotely strenuous.

It was sweet...

On my tenth day home, I woke to find him watching me from his position beside me in bed. Dawn light filtered through the curtains, painting everything in shades of gold.

"You're staring," I murmured, smiling.

"I'm memorizing." His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. "In case I ever wake up and find this was all a dream."

"It's not a dream." I turned my head to kiss his palm.

"I'm real. We're real."

Something shifted in his expression, heat replacing the tenderness. His gaze dropped to my lips, then lower, tracing the line of my throat, the curve of my shoulder where my nightgown had slipped down.

"Alessandro..."

"Tell me if I'm pushing too fast," he said, his voice rough.

"Tell me if you need me to stop."

"I don't want you to stop."

He kissed me then, slow and deep, his hand sliding into my hair to angle my head exactly how he wanted it. I melted into him, my body responding despite the weeks of trauma and recovery, desire building like a slow fire in my veins.

His lips left mine to trail down my jaw, my throat, finding the sensitive spot behind my ear that made me gasp. His hand slid under my nightgown, warm against my ribs, carefully avoiding the healing wound on my side.

"I've been going insane," he murmured against my skin. "Sleeping beside you every night, watching you heal, wanting you so desperately and being terrified of hurting you."

"You won't hurt me."

I arched into his touch, my own hands exploring the muscles of his back, the breadth of his shoulders. "The doctor said I'm healing. That I can resume normal activities."

"Normal activities." His laugh was low and dark. "Is that what we're calling this?"

"Alessandro."

I pulled back enough to look at him, seeing the desire warring with concern in his eyes.

"I want you. I need you. Please."

He groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against mine.

"You're going to be the death of me, Bianca Morena."

"Good thing you're resilient."

He laughed, the sound transforming his face, making him look younger and freer than I'd ever seen him. Then he was kissing me again, deeper this time, his hands moving with purpose.

He undressed me slowly, reverently, as if unwrapping something precious. When I lay naked before him in the morning light, he paused, his gaze traveling over every inch of me.

"You're so beautiful," he said, and his voice held such awe that tears pricked my eyes.

His hand came to rest on my stomach, still flat but harboring the tiny life growing within. I covered his hand with mine.

"I have something to tell you," I said softly.

"What?"

"The doctor told me yesterday. The baby..." I smiled, joy bubbling up through my chest.

"It's a boy, Alessandro. We're having a son."

He went completely still, his eyes wide with shock. Then his face crumpled with emotion so raw it took my breath away. He bent, pressing his forehead to my stomach, his shoulders shaking.

"Alessandro?" I ran my fingers through his hair, concerned.

His voice was muffled, thick. "We're having a son."

"Yes."

He looked up at me, tears tracking down his cheeks, and I'd never loved him more than in that moment. This dangerous man, this powerful force, reduced to tears by the promise of fatherhood.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for giving me this. For giving me everything."

I pulled him up to kiss him, tasting salt and joy and love so profound it felt like drowning and flying at the same time.

What followed was slow and careful and perfect. Alessandro moved with exquisite gentleness, always mindful of my healing body, checking with me constantly to make sure I was okay. I assured him I was more than okay, that I needed this connection, this physical affirmation that we were both alive and together and creating something beautiful from all the darkness.

When we finally came together, it felt like coming home. Like finding the missing piece of myself I hadn't known was lost. He moved above me, his eyes locked on mine, whispering words in Italian that I didn't understand but felt in my bones.