Firefighter's Doorstep Baby / The Soldier's Untamed Heart. Barbara McMahon

Firefighter's Doorstep Baby / The Soldier's Untamed Heart - Barbara McMahon


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home to Rome. But she was enjoying every moment with Cristiano. She didn’t want to think about being practical just yet.

      Cristiano stood outside the dressing room, waiting for Mariella. Dante had been fed, changed, and was now asleep in the stroller. Idly he pushed it back and forth, but the baby didn’t need soothing, he was out for his nap.

      Glancing around the department store, he noted he was the only man, except for an elderly gentleman talking with his wife. If he’d ever suspected he’d be watching a baby this October day, that would have surprised him. Yet he couldn’t imagine letting Mariella and Dante face this alone.

      She came out of the dressing room wearing jeans that should have been banned—they made her figure look downright hot. The long-sleeve pink top highlighted her coloring and made her eyes seem even brighter silver. He could look at her all day. It wasn’t just her looks that made it easy on the eyes. Her innate optimism shone from her eyes. He wished he could capture some of that for himself.

      “Okay, I’ve gotten all I need, just have to pay for everything,” she said, with a bright smile at him and a quick check for Dante.

      “I’ll be right here,” he said, watching with appreciation as she walked away. Those freckles across her nose called to him. He wondered if she liked them. He’d heard from his sister when growing up that most women did not want freckles. He found them enticing. In fact, the more he saw of Mariella, the more he found enticing. She was pretty, sexy, and nurturing. He liked watching her with Dante. The baby seemed as fascinated with her as Cristiano was. “Probably a male thing,” he murmured to the sleeping baby.

      “All set,” she said a moment later.

      “Let’s eat. You have to be hungry after all this and I know I am.”

      “Great. Where? Oh, dumb question, you probably always eat at your family restaurant.”

      Cristiano felt the comment like a slap. He had not been to Rosa for a long time. He’d been avoiding his cosseting family as much as he could, not wanting their sympathy over his injuries, and especially not wanting them to learn of his torment.

      Excuses surged to mind. “I thought we’d eat closer to where we are. Rosa is across town. Then we need to get you two back to Lake Clarissa.”

      “Why? Where am I going to stay?”

      “You could stay with me,” he said. Then stared at her as the words echoed. Was he totally crazy? He’d been avoiding people to keep quiet about the flashbacks. He could not have anyone stay at the cottage. The first night he had a nightmare, the secret would be revealed.

      “Thank you, really, but I can’t stay with you. If the Bertatalis have another cabin available, maybe I’ll stay a bit longer. I probably ought to return to Rome.”

      “Don’t go.”

      He felt the intensity of her gaze. He could almost feel her mind working as she considered staying.

      “Maybe for a few more days. I have no picture of Ariana to show around, few clothes, no computer.”

      “I have one you can use.”

      She slowly smiled. It was all Cristiano could do to refrain from leaning over and kissing her right in the middle of the department store. He caught his breath and forced himself to look away. Had he gone completely round the bend? He’d never felt such a strong desire to kiss a woman before. Obviously complete isolation was driving him more crazy than he already was.

      “Then I’ll stay for a few more days.”

      A man in his situation couldn’t ask for more than that. At least not yet.

      When Cristiano drove into the village by the lake, Mariella felt her stress level rise. The horror of the fire rose the closer they got to the resort. She wondered if she could ever fall asleep without fearing a fire would consume her lodgings.

      He stopped the car near the Bertatalis’ residence. The charred remains of the cottage could be seen clearly in the daylight. How had the fire started?

      Signora Bertatali must have heard them as she threw open her door and rushed out to Mariella.

      “Ah, Signorina Holmes. You are back.” She hugged Mariella, baby and all. “I am so thankful. And the baby, he is well?” She greeted Cristiano and insisted on all coming into her home.

      “We are devastated your cabin burned. Aye, when I think of what could have happened without the swift intervention of Cristiano. You will stay with us at no cost, we insist. That such a thing could happen is not acceptable. The fire chief thinks the heater’s wiring overloaded. All are being inspected before we rent out another space. The electrician is here even now. I am so sorry. When I think of what could have happened—”

      “We’re fine, signora.”

      Cristiano nodded at her acknowledgment, staying near the door.

      “Our insurance will cover everything. Please say you’ll stay a little longer. We do not want you to remember Lake Clarissa with the horror from the fire. Do let us make it up to you. My husband has a contractor going over every inch of every cottage. They will be totally safe. I guarantee it. Please stay.”

      Mariella looked at Cristiano. “A day or two,” she agreed.

      “I am so grateful you are safe. And your baby. Come, let me prepare some tea and you sit. Please, come into the kitchen.”

      Signora Bertatali bustled around asking question after question. How did she feel? Did she get enough clothing?

      “We are all so fortunate you saw the fire,” she said to Cristiano. “How did you from your grandfather’s cottage?”

      He explained he’d been riding. Mariella wondered why he’d gone riding in the middle of the night. Not that it mattered. Thanks to him, they were safe.

      Signora Bertatali poured the hot tea and sat at the table across from Mariella and Cristiano. Dante began fussing and Mariella reached into the baby bag to bring out a bottle. In short order it was ready.

      “Let me. You drink your tea,” Cristiano said, reaching for the little boy. Dante was light in his arms. For a moment Cristiano saw the baby he’d rescued. How was that child doing all these months later? He would have to see if he could find out.

      “Thank you.”

      “And you, Cristiano, your family will be even more proud to learn of your rescue of last night. After that terrorist attack in Rome. I shiver every time I think about it.”

      He had no comeback. He didn’t care if his family never knew of last night’s fire. He was content to know he’d been able to function as his training had prepared him. No fear except for the woman and child.

      Once Dante had been fed and changed, Signora took them to the cottage right next door to the Bertatalis’ home. It had been completely checked out and declared safe. Cristiano unpacked his car and brought in all her new clothes while Mariella put the baby down in the new crib.

      Too tired to think straight, she thanked him and watched as he left, then fell on top of the bed and pulled over a blanket. Before she could mentally list any of the many steps she needed to take, she fell asleep.

      The next morning Cristiano sat on the flagstone patio in front of the cottage and read from the latest manual his commander had sent him. Still technically on disability leave, he had plenty of time to keep up with the latest information and his commander agreed, sending him updates and reports to keep him current.

      He heard a sound and looked up, surprised to see Mariella walking down the long graveled driveway. The sun turned her hair a shimmery molten gold shot through with strands of copper. She wore dark trousers and a sweater, though the afternoon was warm for October. He hadn’t expected to see her here. How had she found the cottage? Not that it was hidden, lying right off the main road.

      “Buongiorno,” she called in greeting.

      “Hello,”


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