Reclaiming His Bride (DiCarlo Brides book 3) (The DiCarlo Brides) Page 3

  “Ms. DiCarlo, it’s good to see you. How are things going at the resort?”

  Lana turned to see Alanna Jenkins, reporter for the Chronicle, the local newspaper. She held the hand of a little girl with dark hair. Of course she would run into a reporter here. At least it was just a small press—but the gossip rags would salivate over a story like this. “Hello. How are you doing today? I haven’t seen much of you lately,” Lana greeted her.

  “Is that an invitation?” Alanna’s smile broadened. “There hasn’t been much for me to report here since your gala opening. I hear rumors about ghost activity at your place, though.” Her voice was light, but her eyes indicated she was fishing.

  “You can’t do anything about old crackpots who like to tell tall tales, can you?” Lana forced a light chuckle and wished Cami had been the one to field that. She was so much better with people. “I hardly think old ghost stories are worth your time.”

  “True enough. Let me know if it turns into more than that?” Alanna’s eyes slipped to Lana’s hand, and the way her brows lifted ever-so-slightly made it clear she’d noticed what was in the box. “Until then, we’ll let rumors blow themselves out.” She flashed a friendly smile.

  Lana felt her face grow hot, but hoped it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Alanna had been all news and zero sensationalism on her articles regarding the resort in the past, keeping back bits that were salacious, but not worthy of a serious news source. She hoped the woman didn’t change her mind about what was actually important. “I agree, and appreciate your journalistic integrity.”

  “Mommy, can we go yet? Daddy said we could go for ice cream.” The little girl tugged on her mom’s hand.

  “Yes, sweetie.” She glanced back at Lana. “He can’t seem to tell her no. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Sure.” Lana waited a moment for the line at the register to empty out, then took the pregnancy test to the counter. She was grateful the clerk barely seemed to glance at the box and didn’t show any recognition for Lana. She was back out to her car in two minutes.

  The house should be empty. Now was the time to do this, before her nerves drove her over the edge.

  Lana sat on her bed for a long time staring at the double pink lines on the test stick. She had suspected, but thinking that she might be pregnant was nothing like learning the truth. Her stomach rolled and she sucked in a deep breath in hopes of keeping everything she’d eaten that day exactly where it was.

  There was a baby growing inside her, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She ought to be elated—if things had been different, she would be running to tell Blake. Instead she felt numb. She would keep her child, no question about it. Beyond that, the shock was too great to consider. Maybe it would make sense when the fuzziness left her head and she had time to think about how to raise a baby as a single mom. Right now she couldn’t think about how she would handle her job and a kid at the same time.

  Not that she needed to work once her year at the resort was up. The inheritance was more than enough to live on for several generations, but the thought of giving up the job she had worked so hard to earn for the past fifteen years was incomprehensible. Then there was the issue of her baby being due when there would still be three months left on her one-year contract at the resort—another requirement of her father’s will.

  And what would she tell Blake? What would he say? Could she stand having to deal with him for visitation and having this child in common with him for the rest of her life? She thought she would be free of him… eventually. Now she never would be.

  There was the sound of a door closing downstairs and heeled shoes clicking on the tiled floors. Lana panicked when she heard the footsteps on the stairs and then Sage called out her name, “Lana, are you up there?”

  Lana dropped the pregnancy test stick on the floor and kicked it under her bed, then stood fluidly and opened her bedroom door, hoping she didn’t look as shell-shocked as she felt. “Yeah? What’s going on?” She congratulated herself for almost sounding normal. Of course, Sage could probably see through that in a heartbeat. She usually did.

  “Joel brought me by to grab a report I left on my nightstand, but we noticed your car in the garage. Are you okay? The stars this morning said you’d get a big surprise.” She studied Lana. “It doesn’t look like it was a good one.”

  It always unnerved her when Sage’s astrological readings ended up coming true. Lana didn’t believe in astrology, but sometimes she had to question her belief that all psychics were charlatans—at least around Sage. It wasn’t that Sage claimed to be psychic; she had an uncanny ability to point things out—and while she pretended that the oddly accurate things she said came from newspapers, Lana knew better.

  “I’m fine. I came home to refresh my makeup. I forgot to bring my emergency kit to work this morning.” It was a total lie, but Lana wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the baby yet.

  “You could use some blush,” Sage agreed after a moment. Clearly she wasn’t the least fooled, but she wasn’t the type to pry, either. “We’ll see you back at the resort.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” Lana waited while Sage grabbed her papers and then left the house through the garage. Then she let a few tears fall before cleaning up her face and retouching her makeup. She had too much to do at work to waste half the day over her new condition.

  As she headed for her car, she pressed a hand over her abdomen. “Try to be nice to me, would you, kiddo? I’ve got a lot to do.” And no idea how she would make it all work.

  Blake made a habit of watching his wife, of knowing when she came into the office next to his in the morning and how late she worked. He found excuses to pop in and chat with her when a quick email would have done as well, and saved time. Something was bothering her, and he didn’t think it was the same thing that had driven her into his arms the night of the hotel’s grand opening.

  She’d seemed to be adjusting to her job, enjoying the work, but for the past couple of weeks she’d been more distant than ever. There was a tightness around her mouth and eyes that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was the escalating “ghost” incidents, maybe it was an argument with a sister—except she seemed to be getting along fine with the other ladies. They weren’t buddies, but the tension was low-level.

  If she could see him take pains every day for over four months to show her why they should be together and still not reconsider the divorce, he didn’t know if another year would do the trick. The fight against discouragement was a constant battle. Though it was probably some twisted form of self-torture, he would finish out the contracted year here, in the office next to hers.

  After their breakup he’d given her room to calm down, to gain perspective, hoping she would see the truth and come back on her own but it hadn’t happened. Now he was determined to be there every time she turned around. If proximity could give him a shot, he would at least get a chance to really talk to her before the end of the next summer.

  On the other hand, there was a fine line between making sure she didn’t forget him, and becoming a nuisance. Crossing that line would make his goal harder to reach, not easier.

  Blake tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him when he saw Lana rush past his doorway. Her hand slapped against the executive restroom door as she pushed in and the sound of retching followed just before the door slammed shut behind her.

  He jumped from his chair and headed for the restroom, knocking as he heard another retch. “Lana?” he called, then steeling himself, added, a little louder, “I’m coming in.” He hoped there wasn’t some other employee in there adjusting her stockings or something, but waited a couple of seconds longer before pushing in.

  Long enough to hear Lana’s weak response, “No.”

  But he found her with her head still bowed over the toilet bowl, her face sweaty. Blake pulled back her hair and put a hand on her forehead. It was warm, but not as hot as he’d feared. “Why did you come in this morning if you’re not feeling well?”


  “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” She lifted her head, as if preparing to stand, to prove that all was well.

  Stubborn woman.

  “You’re not fine. And wait until you’re sure the nausea is past.” He was relieved when she didn’t protest.

  After thirty seconds, she nodded. “I’m done.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah.” She pushed back from the toilet bowl and he gripped under her arm to help her stand, then led her to the sink to wash up. She rinsed her mouth and dug out a canister of minty mouth spray someone had stashed in one of the drawers.

  “You’ve been crying,” Blake said as he noticed the tears that had leaked from the side of her eyes. He wiped them away, then kissed her sweaty forehead. It had been a while since he’d been allowed to be so close to her and the scent of her perfume and the minty spray overpowered the scent of puke still lingering in the air, hitting him like a punch in the gut.

  “Not really. I always tear up when I puke. It’s physical, not emotional.” She pulled away, washed her hands, then studied her face in the mirror.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, though she was still chalky white.

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine now. It was probably just something I ate.” She waved as if she could clear it away and she really didn’t think puking was a big deal.

  He didn’t believe it, but calling her a liar wasn’t going to help his cause and it wouldn’t get honest answers. “If you have a flu bug, you should go home. You have to take care of yourself.”

  She laughed low and without mirth. “Don’t worry about me. I’m really going to be okay, and I have an appointment in an hour.”

  “Baby—” he started to protest.

  “What?” Her eyes flashed to his, worry and defensiveness in them.

  He held up a hand at her anger and apologized. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me to call you that. It’s habit.” He pushed hair behind her right ear. “Look, I can take your appointment if you’re not feeling well. Please let me help you.” He felt so useless seeing her like this. He wanted to cradle her close and take care of her, but there was no way she’d let him.

  She shook her head. “I‘ll rest in my office for a few minutes and I’ll be right as rain. No temperature, just something I ate that my stomach didn’t like. I’ll have to check the expiration date on the milk at home, I guess.” Her smile was weak, but she pulled away from him, avoiding his gaze.

  He fisted his hands by his side. “If you need somewhere to lie down, my suite is always available.” She’d never take it, but he had to offer anyway. It’s where he wanted her, more than anything.

  Blake followed her out of the restroom and watched her return to her office before letting the issue go and sitting at his desk. He’d check on her again before her meeting. If she didn’t feel better, he’d badger her into letting him or Cami take her appointment.

  Though it had been obvious to the sisters that Sage and Joel were getting serious, no one, least of all Lana, expected the engagement, or the announcement that the wedding would take place in a week’s time. If Cami’s four-month engagement had seemed fast, Sage and Joel’s engagement brought on a whirlwind of activity. The happy couple wanted to keep it simple and fun, but simple wasn’t in Delphi’s vocabulary, and she kept everyone else on task preparing for the small wedding at home.

  Jonquil went all out on the flowers, Rosemary spent every free minute—and probably some that weren’t free—working on the cake and directing the food, Cami made sure travel arrangements and reservations at the hotel were set for all of the guests, and Lana worked with Delphi on the other details and making sure everything was in order for the late-October wedding. Sage had her hands full working with Joel to clear things out of his place after a house fire and into a rental while his place was razed and rebuilt.

  The night before the wedding, the sisters were all hard at work decorating the living room and kitchen. Most of the guys were doing… whatever it was guys did when they had a wedding the next day and are threatened with bodily harm if they did anything involving strippers or drinking enough to give them hangovers in the morning.

  “Can you get me more of that green stuff?” Sage asked as she trailed white toile around an arch in the living room.

  “The green stuff.” Delphi grinned and passed it along. “I love that. And maybe when Jonquil hands you your bouquet of white roses and calla lilies you can thank her for those white things.”

  “Hey, if it’s not cotton weave, I don’t really know what it is. Ask me about facials or five ways to reduce back pain without pills and I’ll take good care of you, though.” Sage started wrapping the green gauzy fabric with the white, securing it in the back.

  Lana watched it all with a smile. The six of them weren’t what you’d call close. Their dad’s secrets and a lifetime of hurt feelings prevented that, but they worked together well most of the time despite the odd mix of personalities. They were trying to get along, anyway, even if they held back confidences.

  “I can’t believe Rosemary got out of this,” Cami said as she covered another folding chair with a white slipcover.

  “She kind of has her hands full with the food,” Lana reminded her.

  “Speaking of—are we ever going to eat?” Delphi double-checked her watch, then returned to her list.

  “Rosemary’s bringing it. Hold your horses.” Lana felt her own stomach calling out for dinner, but didn’t think that had anything to do with the lightheadedness she’d been fighting for the past hour. She’d been doing her best to hide it, but hoped they had a chance to sit down soon without her having to clue anyone in on how she felt. Sage had been watching her a little too closely.

  The noise of the garage door opening filled her with relief. “Sounds like Rosemary’s here. I’ll get out the plates.” They had opted to order from the hotel restaurant tonight instead of making something themselves. She hurried to the kitchen and started pulling dishes from the cupboard when a wave of dizziness passed over her so strong she slid to her knees and leaned her head against the counter.

  “Holy cow, are you all right?” Jonquil asked, crossing to her. “Come on, sit on the sofa.”

  Lana took a deep breath and felt her equilibrium start to slid back into place. “I’m fine, really. I can stand again.”

  “Forget it.” Jonquil helped her stand and accompanied her to the closest sofa—the only sofa since Vince, Blake and Harrison had carried most of the living room furniture to the downstairs family room for the weekend. “How long have you been feeling sick? Should you be helping us?”

  “I’m fine. Really.” Lana tried to convince everyone, as they gathered around her. The fact that she could barely see straight had nothing to do with the issue. Despite Jonquil’s comment, it really was perfectly normal for her to get dizzy. It happened to pregnant women all the time. But they didn’t know about that pertinent fact. “I just need to eat. I think I missed lunch.” Not true, but it was a reasonable-ish explanation.

  “Hey, can I get a hand with this food?” Rosemary asked, pushing into the kitchen. She looked at the tableau and stopped. “What’s going on?” She slid the foil tray of enchiladas onto the counter and crossed the room. “Do we need an ambulance?”

  “No! We do not need an ambulance. I just have low blood sugar and need to eat.” Lana waved to a couple of the sisters. “Go help her bring in the food.”

  “Just give her a minute, I’m sure she’s fine.” Sage moved to help Rosemary bring in the food. When she looked back over her shoulder at Lana, there was a knowing look in her eyes.

  Surely Sage didn’t know. Lana pushed away the thought and sat straighter on the sofa, pleased when the dizziness didn’t return. Encouraged, she stood, and didn’t want to pass out.

  With her luck, they would start pushing her to go to the doctor to find out why she was light-headed. She already knew why she was feeling terrible, and she wasn’t about to impart.

  Everyone moved into motion, except
Cami who stayed with Lana. “Seriously,” Cami said as she unnecessarily helped Lana sit on the sofa again. “You’re working yourself too hard. You’re pale a lot of the time.”

  “I’m fine. Really. I feel better already. I just need to eat.” Lana accepted the plate of food from Delphi with thanks and started eating.

  When everyone finished their food and Rosemary headed back to the hotel kitchen to put the finishing touches on the cake, Lana felt much better and was able to join the others without worrying that she might fall down. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just Sage watching now.

  The late October air was cold as it blew across the snow-swept grounds the next night but Lana appreciated the breeze across her heated skin as she stepped onto the deck and looked up at the stars. The ceremony had been lovely, and Sage was a gorgeous bride as her brother, Harrison had walked her down the aisle. She looked a little like a gypsy with her big brown eyes and dark curls. Even the memory brought a sheen of tears, and more than a little wistful longing into Lana’s heart.

  Their dad hadn’t been there to give her away, an impossibility under the circumstances, but Sage’s mom, Darla, was present and a great support, though she didn’t fuss over every detail or harass the photographer into special poses as many mothers did. Delphi, however, had grown adept at that, much to Jeremy’s irritation.

  Since there were now far too many sisters to stand in as bridesmaids, they had opted for no attendants—which was just as well. Besides, Joel and Sage hadn’t wanted a lot of fuss. Lana thought they had gotten more than they wanted as it was. Personally, Lana had thought the ceremony was perfect—simple and small with a riot of flowers perfuming the room.

  Now, with a little time to look back, she wished she’d had as much fuss when she had married Blake. There hadn’t been much of anything in their spur-of-the-moment nuptials. Even that was fuzzy from the cocktails they’d been drinking. The images strongest in her mind were of walking toward him in her rented dress while he wore a rented black jacket, and of course, after, when they went back to his room to celebrate.