Page 70 of Giorgio
“Then we will not have a problem.”
“Do you believe me?” He asked anxiously.
“Of course I do.” She still had a problem with knowing the stark differences between them. He was incredibly wealthy and surely with all that wealth comes a lot of entitlement.
She would never hold his past against him, his past was where it belonged, and she was never going to hound him about it. If she allowed herself time to think, she was going to quake with trepidation.
She was not drop dead gorgeous and came from a very simple family. But here she was pregnant and about to marry a man whose face had been plastered on billboards around the world. People are going to stare at them and notice the vast difference.
She told herself that as long as he loved her, then none of that mattered, but she wouldn’t be human if she didn’t have doubts and fears.
“Juliana?”
He sensed her uncertainty and was staring at her with a frown. “Is something the matter?”
“We barely know each other,” she pointed out inanely.
“We know each other in the most intimate manner.” He nudged at her abdomen to prove his point.
“But what about elementary?”
“What would you like to know?” He asked her quietly. He had also sensed that she was afraid of the future. He lived a very glamorous lifestyle and, in the past, before he met her, partying had been something that comes naturally to him, but that was no longer the case.
“If it eases your mind, I have cut down on the entertainment.” A smile ghosted his lips. “A certain woman I ran into with my vehicle turned my life around and made me realized that I wasn’t as happy as I thought I was.” His expression turned sober.
“After you left and the reality hit me that you were gone, I tried to resume my original lifestyle to prove to myself and others that I was still the same person.” He shook his head. “Instead, I turned out to be a killjoy. I would arrive at a function and be nursing one drink.
The music was too loud, and the raucous laughter hurt my ears. Conversations that I once found stimulating had become banal and inconsequential.” He bent to brush his lips against hers. “You are instrumental in changing my entire perspective.”
Her eyes glowed. “Should I apologize?”
He shot her a wry look. “Not if you don’t mean it.”
“I wouldn’t.” Her expression was quizzical. “Do you miss it?”
He did not have to think about it. “No. I was wasting my life. I am heir to a fortune and haven’t worked a day in my life to be entitled to it. Now I want to be actively involved.” Lifting a hand, he absently caressed her cheek.
“I am the face of the company; I suppose it’s because of the way I look and certainly has nothing to do with what I contributed. That boils down to next to nothing.”
His hand moved over her stomach, and he felt the usual constriction in his chest at the idea of his son nestled comfortably in her uterus. He was going to do his best to stand by her and his child. He wanted his son to be proud of him and never have to wonder what his papa did for a living. He was going to set an example.
He already has a mother who deserves a medal for being who she is, and he wanted to make up for his lack.
“Tell me the rest.” He said suddenly.
“The rest?”
“I want to know everything. You said the first trimester was a walk in the park- “He grinned at her fulminating expression and realized not for the first time, how comfortable he felt with her.
“The second trimester, which I am still in, was decidedly more difficult.”
His expression became anxious. “What happened?”
“I have these weird cravings.” She laughed at the wry look he gave her. “One night I couldn’t sleep because I had to have toast with ketchup.”
He wrinkled his nose and had her laughing even more. “That was no joke. Then there was the time when it was toast with mayo and cream cheese.” She buried her face in his chest at his horrified expression, her giggles tickling his chest.
“Madonna!” He exclaimed. “Is that past or am I going to have to run out and get you something that’s going to turn my stomach?”