Celebration: Italian Boss, Ruthless RevengeOne Magical ChristmasHired: The Italian’s Convenient Mistress Page 28
‘It’s been reported that there was another party involved—do you have any comment you’d like to make to that?’
And she went to bite into her toast but changed her mind, her throat so thick with tears that there wasn’t room for anything else. She waited for his polite rebuttal, for his clipped ‘No comment’, for his request for his family’s privacy—only it never came.
‘My wife, without malice or intent, fell in love with someone else.’
‘Oh!’ Imogen saw the slight, frantic dart of the interviewer’s eyes. She smiled, despite her tears, as with candour, honesty and integrity he reached into living rooms everywhere and showed the world a little bit of why he really was so special.
‘And you don’t fall in love with someone else if things are good at home,’ Angus continued, borrowing Imogen’s script for a moment then reverting back to his own. ‘And for that I take my full share of the responsibility.’
‘That’s very forgiving.’
‘You don’t choose with whom, when and where you fall in love,’ Angus responded coolly. ‘I didn’t understand that, but now, thanks to a very special person, I do.’
‘So …’ The interviewer was shuffling her papers now, staring at them as if willing something to leap out and tell her what the hell to say. ‘You’re saying that you too—’
‘Absolutely.’ Imogen’s gasp came as the staffroom door opened, knew without turning it was him, could feel his arms wrap around her as he held her from behind and stared at her from the screen. ‘There is the most wonderful woman in my life at the moment and I intend to keep it that way. I’m going to learn from my mistakes, which,’ he added, ‘we actually do all make.
‘Gemma and I decided to be honest.’ His words were soft and low in her ear. ‘She doesn’t deserve to be portrayed as the guilty party in this. We both just want it over, so we decided to be upfront and just get it all over and done with. Gemma has my support, even if it nearly killed me to give it on national television …’
‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘I’m proud of me too,’ Angus said. ‘And I’m proud of you too.’
‘For what?’
‘For being you. For making me see.’ And he didn’t add ‘sense’ or ‘things more clearly.’ He didn’t need to, because his eyes were open. Now he really could see that there was so much more than two sides to a story, that the two sides had other sides, and those other sides had other sides too. People were people and that was OK. That was what made them real.
‘You didn’t call me.’
‘I didn’t know what to say,’ Angus admitted. ‘I knew I had to offer you something, only I didn’t know what. And then things got busy … Maria Vanaldi …’
‘I heard it wasn’t an accident.’
‘It got nasty—the police contacted me to ask if Maria had said anything, and I went round to see Ainslie. I was worried about her being caught up in it all and not knowing what was going on. I spoke to Elijah …’
‘Guido’s uncle?’
‘He’s his guardian now. And that sounds simple, only this man lives in Italy, a rich playboy who hops on planes the way we take the underground and he didn’t even know if he wanted to do it—and then he fell in love with his nephew. A few days with Guido and he’s turning his life around if it means that he can keep him.’
And that Guido was safe, that he would be loved and looked after was the nicest thing she could have hoped to hear, or, Imogen admitted, gazing into jade eyes that adored her, almost the nicest.
‘You were never the easy option,’ he said, turning her to face him. ‘You were never a quick fling or convenient or not good enough or any one of those things you beat yourself up with. You were the most difficult option possible, Imogen.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you live on the other side of the world, because in a few days you’ll be back there with your Heath and I’ll be here with Clemmie and Jack. You were absolutely the last person it made sense to fall in love with.’ He pulled up her chin to make her look at him. ‘You were never a threat to my marriage—it was over long before you came along. The only threat you were was to my sanity. The craziest thing I could do was fall in love with you, but I did. I love you. I absolutely love you. And I don’t know how, but I know it can work.’ She opened her mouth to talk, but it was Angus’s turn still. ‘I can’t bear the thought of you on the other side of the world without me there beside you every day, but it’s a far better option than losing you. I don’t care if people say long-distance love can’t work, because those people don’t know me and they don’t know you …
‘I don’t change my mind either and I won’t change my mind about this. If I have to spend every minute of annual leave flying to see you, if I have to work every shift I can so I can fly you back to see me just as much as you can, if we can’t properly be together till the kids are much older—we’ll still be together, if only you’ll have me.’
That he would give her his heart, and let her go with it, that he trusted her enough to return with it whenever she could was the greatest gift of them all—a miracle really, Imogen thought, smiling through her tears as he kissed her swollen buttery mouth till it was she who pulled away.
‘It’s a Christmas miracle!’
‘It is …’ Angus grumbled, not caring that Heather had just walked in, not dropping Imogen or pulling back, just wanting to kiss and taste her again, because she was his—she really was.
‘No …’ Imogen gave a giggle. ‘Shane’s going into remission.’
‘Shane?’
‘Shane!’
‘But he’s only got two weeks to live!’ Heather’s shocked gasp had Imogen giggling. Heather loved the show—loved, loved, loved it, taped every episode and was always pumping Imogen for inside info. ‘It’s completely incurable—Dr Adams said so last night.’
‘It’s a miracle, I tell you!’ Imogen said, waving her hands like a gospel singer, then as Angus watched on, bemused, the two women doubled over in a fit of laughing.
‘Don’t breathe a word!’ Imogen warned. ‘If the story line ever gets out …’
‘Praise be!’ Heather said, grinning, slipping out and, unbeknown to them standing guard on the other side of the door so that no one could possibly disturb them.
‘She knows?’ Imogen checked.
‘I told her.’
‘So the party …’
‘The party was their idea. Heather just told me that you’d be back today. Imogen, when did you find out about Brad?’ Puzzled eyes frowned down at her. ‘Is that what you two had to discuss?’
‘Brad and I had to talk.’ She was suddenly serious and always, always beautiful. ‘He’s been offered another year’s work here and he wants to take it.’
‘And you couldn’t tell me that?’ He didn’t get it.
‘Imogen, have you any idea what I’ve been through, trying to think of ways we could be together, trying to come up with a solution? And all the while you had one.’
‘I had a temporary solution, Angus, and we both deserve a lot more than that. Brad just dropped it on me—his character proved popular and they offered him a year’s contract. Of course, my first instinct was to say yes, but it wasn’t a solution. What happens in a year when his contract’s up, what happens if I hate it here? And why should I leave a home and family I love because Brad’s been offered a job? If you and Gemma got back together or if you and I didn’t work out, I needed to be sure I was staying for the right reasons …’
And he got it then, got what a huge decision it must have been for her. ‘It took a glass or two of wine and a lot of tears but we actually managed some very grownup talking—something neither of us are very good at. He had to get it that I can’t just follow my ex-husband around the globe, and I had to get my head around the fact that you couldn’t come into my decision either.’ She saw him frown. ‘This had to be about Heath and I.’ She took a big breath. ‘Whether I could stand to be in London without you.’
‘Co
uld you?’
‘I can stand anything, Angus.’ She gave him her soft smile. ‘But I’d rather do it with you.’
‘Then you will.’
‘But what about next year … when his contract …?’
‘Who knows?’ Angus hushed her with his lips. ‘This, I do know, though, we’ll work it out.’
‘Will we?’ And he saw her blink a couple of times, just as he had that first day. He saw again that this soft, utterly together woman sometimes got nervous, sometimes got scared, and it thrilled him that he could read her, could comfort her and could love her.
‘Always!’
EPILOGUE
‘I FEEL so fat!’
Angus looked over to where Imogen lay.
‘I could think of so many better ways to describe you.’
Oh, and he could.
Dressed in her favourite red bikini, they’d been enjoying a gentle dip in the pool after a massive Christmas barbecue and now Imogen was on the lounger, her belly ripe with their baby, her skin freckled by the hot Queensland sun. It was still as if each day the colour in his world brightened.
What could potentially have been the worst year of his life had been the best.
Clemmie and Jack thriving, as their parents did the same.
Thanks to Imogen.
Thanks to this funny, complicated, beautiful woman who had stepped into the path of an oncoming train and somehow made them all change track.
Christmas in Australia!
Who’d have thought?
Hauling himself out of the pool and lying on the lounger next to her, dripping water as he went, Angus watched the three kids splashing and playing in the water, then grinned over to where Imogen lay. ‘They’re having a ball.’
‘They’re killing me,’ Imogen groaned. ‘They’ve been up since five!’
‘It’s been a long day, having all your family over and everything, but we can go to bed soon,’ Angus pointed out. ‘Brad will be here soon and Gemma and Roger just texted to say they were on their way.’
‘Good!’
Who’d have thought?
Angus lay back as Imogen heaved herself up again and then joined the kids in the pool for one last play before they headed off to enjoy the rest of Christmas Day with their other families.
She’d wanted to have their baby in Australia.
Which should have been impossible as they’d all wanted Christmas with the children.
But because, through it all, Imogen had been consistently nice and kind and infinitely understanding, somehow that sentiment grew and somehow, when needed, the universe gave back.
Taking some long overdue leave, Angus was even doing the odd stint in Australia, realising in years to come he might well do many shifts more. The home she’d struggled so hard to keep for Heath was now a furnished rental that the hospital used, only not these past weeks. Tentative plans put forward had been made so much easier when Gemma and Roger had decided that bringing the children for a holiday in Australia might be rather nice. Brad too had taken time off from his very busy schedule and was even planning to negotiate four weeks off each Christmas.
Impossible almost, yet they’d worked it out.
For Imogen.
He was quite a nice guy really, Angus conceded as, sunglasses on, long hair so blond it was white now, Brad sauntered into the back yard and the kids leapt out of the pool to greet him.
Yes, quite a nice guy for a thickhead, Angus thought as Brad knelt down and kissed Imogen on the cheek.
Oh, his solar plexus still got the odd workout, but nothing too major. And a bit of jealously was OK, Imogen had pointed out, if it kept him on his elbows!
‘Hey, Angus!’
‘Merry Christmas, Brad,’ Angus responded, just a touch formally.
‘Do you want me to watch them?’
‘Watch them?’ Angus could see his frown in the mirrored sunglasses.
‘Till Gemma gets here.’ He nodded in Imogen’s direction and Angus was on his feet in an instant. Her forearms were resting on the edge of the pool, a look of intense concentration on her face. Suddenly Brad wasn’t the thickhead here, because a doctor and a midwife they may be, but it had taken the actor to first realise what was happening. Irritable, restless, Imogen wasn’t tired and cranky—she was in labour.
Imogen had worked it out, though, by the time he got poolside.
‘I wanted a water birth …’ Imogen stopped talking then, her face bright red and screwed up in agony for a long moment till finally she blew out. ‘But I’m not having it in the pool!’
‘Heath took for ever,’ Brad drawled, ‘but doesn’t the second one usually come quicker? At least, that’s what you used to say …’
‘Thanks, Brad!’ Angus snapped. ‘Just watch the kids, bring the car round …’
‘Just get me into the house,’ Imogen groaned through gritted teeth. ‘Brad, call an ambulance.’
This was so not how she’d planned it. A full-time midwife practically till the moment they’d flown back to Australia, she’d worked out her birth plan, and being hauled up the pools steps and led to the house, her ex-husband the one ringing for an ambulance and watching the kids as Angus steered her inside, wasn’t a part of it.
‘Let’s get to the bedroom.’ Angus was trying to be calm, but Imogen could hear the note of panic in his voice and it panicked her. Nothing fazed Angus, nothing medical anyway.
‘The bathroom …’ Imogen gasped. ‘I don’t want to ruin my silk bedspread …’
‘Never mind the bloody bedspread.’
‘But I broke the snow globe.’
The silk bedspread wasn’t ever going to be an issue, the living-room floor having to suffice, Angus sweating despite the air conditioner on full blast as he pulled off her bikini bottoms.
‘I wanted drugs.’
‘I know.’
‘I wanted to go in the spa.’
‘I know …’ Angus gritted his teeth. ‘Just try and breathe through it. The ambulance will be here soon.’
‘Angus …’ As another contraction hit and she just really, really had to push, she also really had to ask. ‘There’s something wrong.’
‘There’s nothing wrong.’ Angus tried to steady himself, attempted a reassuring smile. ‘It’s got red hair!’
‘Poor thing.’ Imogen tried to smile back but started crying, because she could see the panic in his eyes, see the grim set of his jaw, knew that he was seriously worried. ‘I’ve worked alongside you—I know when something’s going wrong.’
‘Nothing’s going wrong,’ Angus said, only it didn’t soothe her. ‘It’s just never been you before.’ And in her panic it didn’t make sense, but in that moment between contractions, that last moment between birth and born, the mist cleared.
He loved her.
Absolutely loved her.
And love made things a bit scary sometimes because the stakes were so high.
‘It’s all good.’ Angus said. ‘All looks completely normal.’
And it was.
Scary but good. Agony sometimes, but completely and utterly healthy and normal—this thing called living.
Imogen got to deliver her herself, with a bit of help from Angus, lifting their daughter out together and watching in awe as blue eyes opened and she screamed her welcome. A blaze of red, from kicking feet and fists that punched in rage, right to her little screwed-up face and tufts of red hair.
‘She’s perfect …’
‘She is,’ Angus said, because it was all he could manage, actually relieved when the paramedics arrived and he could just be a dad.
‘Born under a Christmas tree,’ the paramedic greeted them. ‘You’re going to have some fun picking names.’
‘Do I have to go to hospital?’
‘You need to be checked,’ the paramedic said. ‘The little one too.’
‘You can have that spa,’ Angus said temptingly when her face fell. ‘And champagne and …’ He grinned. ‘I can ask Gemma if she minds cleaning up the mess!�
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And they were the nicest paramedics, Angus thought, high on adrenaline and loving everyone. They were in absolutely no rush, even happy to let her freshen up a bit once they’d got her on the stretcher and Imogen had decided that she really didn’t want Gemma to see her coming out looking quite this bad!
‘I want Heath.’
So Angus got him. His usually happy face, pinched and worried, but relaxing into a smile when he saw his new sister. Jack looked pretty chuffed too and Clemmie burst into tears because she’d desperately wanted a boy so that she’d still be the only girl. And then Heath looking worried again when it really was time to get them to the hospital.
‘He’ll be OK.’ Brad assured them, and Angus had to swallow, not jealousy now, maybe even a tear as he saw a slightly wistful look on Brad’s face as he gave Imogen a fond kiss goodbye. ‘I’ll bring him up to see you later tonight.’ He looked over at Angus. ‘If that’s OK with you guys.’
‘That’d be great.’
‘Us too?’ Clemmie asked.
‘Yes, you too!’ Gemma smiled but her eyes were a little bit glassy, a wistful look on her face as for the first time she met Imogen’s eyes. ‘Congratulations!’
‘Congratulations!’ Brad shook Angus’s hand and Roger did the same.
Yep, just a bit painful sometimes, Imogen thought as they wheeled her off—for all concerned—but worth it.
And what better way to spend Christmas night? Tucked up in bed, champagne in hand, choosing from a massive chocolate selection with Angus cuddled up beside her, choosing names for a certain little lady who didn’t have one yet.
‘Holly?’ Imogen said again.
‘Natalie?’ Angus frowned. ‘You know, there really aren’t that many to choose from.’
‘I know!’ Imogen breathed, staring over to her daughter, her hair all fluffy after her first bath, her complexion creamy now, fair eyelashes curling upwards, her little snub nose covered by her hand as she sucked on her thumb.
‘Summer!’
‘Summer?’ Angus creased up his nose. ‘That’s not a Christmas name.’
‘She was born in summer.’
‘But Christmas is in winter in England, it won’t make sense.’