Nick stood looking down at his father, his eyes unreadable. “Okay, Dad. You get your wish. I’ll go to the funeral.”
Cesare looked relieved. “Thank you, figlio mio. This means a lot to me.”
“I’ll go with him,” Sasha said, wanting them to know she’d be there for Nick.
Nick spun toward her. “No.”
“But—”
“No.” Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.
Sasha’s heart sank, but she wasn’t about to give up.
“Go with him, honey,” Isabel said. “He needs you.”
Sasha nodded. He needed someone, but she wasn’t sure it was her. “I intend to, Isabel. Don’t worry.”
After that, the older couple left and Sasha saw them off. For all that she understood why Cesare wanted a Valente at the funeral, like Isabel, she did think it unfair to ask Nick to go. Did they really need someone to represent the family? Wasn’t Cesare showing the woman more compassion than she’d shown him and their son?
But it wasn’t her place to say anything.
She knocked on the study door and went in. “Nick—”
“No, Sasha.”
“But—”
“I’m going alone.”
She stopped in the middle of the room and glared at him across the desk. “Would you let me finish a sentence or are you taking a page from my father’s book now?”
He flinched.
“Nick, look. I know we were forced to get married, and I know we didn’t marry for love, but I…care about you. I’m your wife, and I should go with you at a time like this.”
A nerve pulsed near Nick’s temple. “It’s a funeral for a woman you didn’t even know, Sasha. There’s no reason for you to attend.”
“I may not have known the woman, but I know her son very well. He’s reason enough for me to go.”
His eyes darkened as silence hung in the air. She meant every word. She wouldn’t back down over this.
Something shifted in his expression as he looked at her. Finally he said, “As you wish.”
Her heart thudded with relief. “Thank you.”
He picked up the phone. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have some arrangements to make.” Clearly he wanted to push her out, both of the room and emotionally.
Still, she hung on. “Would you like me to do all that?”
“Thanks, but my PA knows my requirements.”
She inclined her head and went to leave the room. It was obvious he’d given all he had to give right now.
“Sasha?”
She stopped and turned. “Yes?”
“Thank you,” he said brusquely.
She nodded and shut the door behind her, not sure what he was thanking her for—wanting to go to the funeral with him, or offering to help. Her heart swelled inside her chest. Nick really did appreciate her efforts.
He had finally noticed.
Seven
W ith Alex using the family jet in England, making it unavailable to take to Melbourne, Nick was glad he’d hired another plane. At least this way he wouldn’t leave the tainted memories of the funeral in the family jet and could put it all behind him once it was over.
He only wished Sasha had stayed at home, he thought, watching her in the leather chair opposite as she stared out the aircraft window. She was dressed appropriately in black and looked elegantly sedate, but he still didn’t think this funeral was the place for her. He appreciated her concern, but it wasn’t warranted. He could handle this by himself.
Dammit, his mother didn’t deserve to have Valente representation at her funeral. Okay, so his father had wanted to do the right thing, but then, his father had always wanted to do the right thing. The older man just hadn’t known there had been a price to pay.
And that he’d been the one to pay it.
An hour later they pulled up outside the church and a knot tightened in Nick’s gut. Just as he squared his shoulders he heard Sasha gasp.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, looking up at the church through the limousine window.
He took a glance but he wasn’t really interested in a building right now.
She sat back on the seat and winced. “Oh, Nick, I’m sorry. This isn’t the right time to say that.”
“It’s fine.”
She shook her head. “No, I was being insensitive. It’s just that this is the type of church I always dreamed I’d be married in.”
That caught his attention. “You did?”
She flushed, then gave a shrug. “Sorry. It took me by surprise when I saw it.”
Just like she was taking him by surprise.
“No need to apologize,” he said, as the driver opened the car door.
Nick had the strangest feeling when he saw his mother’s casket near the altar. He stopped inside the door, his legs unable to move. This was his mother, something inside him screamed.
And then he felt Sasha touch his arm and at that moment he was truly grateful to have her with him.
The service was brief with only about twenty people who’d bothered to come. Two of the men he remembered as her husbands from years ago. Not much for a life spent with five husbands and various lovers.
A life spent on the edge.
Outside the church a man in his early sixties came up to him and shook his hand. “Nick, she would have been so happy you came.”
Nick’s brows flattened. “And you are?”
“I was Julieann’s husband.”
“Husband?” Nick bit back from asking which one.
“Her last one,” the man said, reading his mind. “My name’s Ted, by the way.”
Ted’s eyes darted to Sasha. “And this must be your new wife,” he said, startling Nick, then explained, “Julieann read about your marriage in the papers.”
Nick grimaced inwardly. He wondered how long before his mother would have found a way to make use of that knowledge.
“How long were you married, Ted?”
“Five years.” The older man’s eyes didn’t waver. “She’d changed, Nick.”
“Really? So she wasn’t drunk behind the wheel of her car when she died?”
“No, she wasn’t,” Ted said firmly. “She’d been working the nightshift at an old people’s home. She fell asleep because she was tired.”