Postcards From Rome: The Italian's Pregnant Virgin / A Proposal from the Italian Count / A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir

“Remove your clothing and put on this gown,” the nurse said. “The doctor will be in in just a few moments.”

Esther looked at Renzo, her gaze pointed. But he didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Can you leave?” she asked, the moment the nurse was out of sight.

“Why should I leave? You are my fiancée, after all.”

“Your fiancée in name only. You and I both know that this child was not conceived in the...in the...the usual way that children are conceived. You don’t have any right to look at me while I’m undressing. I couldn’t say that in front of the stylist the other day, but I will say it now.”

“I will turn,” he said, his tone dry. And he did.

She took a deep breath, her eyes glued to his broad back, and she began to remove her clothing. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see her. The feeling of undressing in the same room as a man was so shockingly intimate.

Everything had happened so quickly during her little makeover the other day. And while she had been embarrassed that he was looking at her body, she hadn’t fully processed all of her feelings. Right now, she could process them all a bit too well.

From the dull thud of her heart, to the fluttering of her pulse at the base of her throat. The way that her fingers felt clumsy, numb, but everything else on her body felt hypersensitive and so very warm, tingly.

She could sense him. More than just seeing him standing in front of her, he felt all around her. As though he took up every corner of the room, even though she knew such a thing wasn’t possible.

Finally, she got all of her clothes off, and stood there for a moment. Just a moment. Long enough to process the fact that she was standing naked in a room with this powerful man, who was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit.

It was such a strange contrast. She had never felt more vulnerable, more exposed or...stronger, than she did in that moment. And she could not understand all of those contrasting things coming together to create one feeling.

She picked up the hospital gown and slipped it onto her shoulders, then got up onto the plush table that was so very different from the other table she had been on just a few months ago. “This is different,” she said. “From the clinic in Santa Firenze.”

He turned then, not asking if he could. But she had a feeling that Renzo was not a man accustomed to asking for much. “In what way?”

“Well, I get the feeling that Ashley was doing her best to keep all of this from getting back to you. So, she opted for discreet. But not like this. It was...rustic?”

His lip curled. “Excellent. She took you to a bargain fertility clinic.” His hands curled into fists. “If I ever get my hands on her...”

“Don’t. The fact that she is who she is is punishment enough, isn’t it?”

He laughed. “I suppose it is.”

There was a firm knock on the door, followed by the door opening quickly. Then, the doctor—a small woman with her hair pulled back into a tight bun—walked into the room. “Ms. Abbott, Mr. Valenti, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m very pleased to be helping you along with your pregnancy.”

After introductions were made, and Esther’s vitals were taken, the woman had Esther lie down on the table, then she placed a towel over Esther’s lap and pushed the hospital gown up to the bottom of her rib cage.

“We’re going to do an ultrasound. To establish viability, listen to the heartbeat and get a look at the baby.”

Anxiety gripped her. This was the moment of truth, she supposed. The moment where she found out if those prickling fears she’d had in the waiting room were in any way factual. Or if they were just vague waves of anxiety, connected to nothing more but her general distrust of the situation.

She really hoped it was the second.

The doctor squirted some warm gel onto her stomach, then placed the Doppler on her skin. She moved the wand around until Esther caught sight of a vague fluttering on the monitor next to her. Her breath left her body in a great gust, relief washing over her. “That’s the heart,” she asked, “isn’t it?”

“Yes,” the doctor said, flipping a switch and letting a steady thumping sound fill the room. “There it is.”

It was strange, like a rhythmic swishing, combined with a watery sound in the back. The Doppler moved, and the sound faded slightly.

“I’m just trying to get a good look.” She kept on moving the Doppler around, and new images flashed onto the screen, new angles of the baby that she carried. But Esther couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it. She had no experience with ultrasounds.

“Do either of you have a history of twins in your family?”

The question hit Esther square in the chest, and she struggled to come up with any response that wasn’t simply why.

She didn’t. But she knew that the question didn’t actually pertain to her, since the child she was carrying wasn’t hers. “I...”

“No,” Renzo said, his tone definitive. “However... The baby was conceived elsewhere through artificial means. If that has any impact on what you’re about to say.”

“Well, that does increase the odds of such things,” the doctor said. “And that is in fact what it looks like here. Twins.”

All of the relief that had just washed through Esther was gone now, replaced by wave after wave of thundering terror. Twins? There was no way she could be carrying twins. That was absurd.

Here she had been worried that she had lost one baby, that they would look inside her womb and see nothing, when they had actually found an extra baby.

“I don’t understand,” Esther said. “I don’t understand at all. I don’t understand how it could be twins. I’ve been to the doctor before to have the pregnancy checked on...”

“These things are easy to miss early on. Especially if they were just looking at heartbeats with the Doppler.”

She felt heat rush through her face. “Yes,” she confirmed.

“I understand that it’s a bit of a shock.”

“It’s fine,” Renzo said, his tone hard, belying that calm statement. “I have more than enough means to handle such things. I’m not at all concerned. Of course we are able to care for twins.”

“Everything looks good,” the doctor said, pulling the Doppler off Esther’s stomach and wiping her skin free of gel. “Of course, we will want to monitor you closely as twins are considered a more high-risk pregnancy. You’re young. And all of your vitals look good. I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a very successful pregnancy.”

Esther was vaguely aware of nodding, while Renzo simply stood there. Like a statue straight from a Roman temple.

Seeing that neither of them had anything to say, the doctor nodded. “I’ll leave you two to discuss.”

As soon as the doctor left, Esther sagged back onto the table, flattening herself entirely, going utterly limp. “I can’t believe it.”

“You can’t believe it? You’re the one who intends to leave. Why would it concern you?”

“I’m the one who has to carry a litter,” she shot back.

“Twins are hardly a litter.”

“Well, that’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one gestating them.”

He looked stunned. Pale beneath his burnished skin. “Indeed not.” He turned away from her. “Get dressed. We have reservations.”

“I know I do. I have several reservations!”

“For dinner.”