Always You (27 page)

“I just want to go home.” Chiara forced strength into her voice. “I want to put all this behind us and get on with the business of building our family.”

John clasped her hand and brought it to his lips as he led her through the security checkpoints, out the heavy double doors and into the bright cold of a clear February afternoon. “When you say ‘home,’ exactly where do you mean?” he asked. “Do you still want to move back to Chicago?”

She shook her head. “No. I want to go someplace new. Someplace sunny.”

“Someplace with no news crews and reporters,” John added as he opened the door of his Nissan for her.

Instead of climbing into the car, Chiara wrapped her arms around John’s neck and drew him into a kiss that took the chill right out of the wintry day. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m home already. Home has always been where you are, John. Whether it’s St. Louis, Chicago, or Timbuktu, my home has always been with you.”

John spent a long moment tasting her lips before he drew away, smiling. “Now that we’re both unemployed, maybe it’s time we settled down and found a house. I think I know just the place.”

“It’s not that mess on Heger Court your mother’s been trying to force on you, is it?” Chiara asked warily.

“Nope.” John helped her into the car. “It’s nowhere near my parents’ house.”

“Then I like it already,” Chiara grinned as she allowed John to close her door.

Four months later

Chiara’s bare feet padded across the bamboo flooring of the airy living room. She wore the white dress she’d purchased at Soul Hippi, and Ciel had styled her long dark hair in intricate but delicate braids adorned with silvery-white cowrie shells. As she’d imagined, the dress was perfect, thoroughly pleasing Chiara with the way it fell over the vast roundness of her belly.

She stood to one side, partially hidden in the voluminous white sheers pulled to one side of the extra-wide sliding glass doors leading to the lanai and the private beach beyond it. There were more people on the beach than the small bit of white sand had seen since she and John had moved into the renovated plantation house in March.

In the earliest days of his unemployment, John had spent a lot of time surfing the Internet looking for real estate that fulfilled both of their requirements: They both wanted a two-story home someplace sunny and far enough away from both families to prevent surprise visits.

Chiara would have been happy to purchase a small place in Okinawa, Japan, but John had argued that Okinawa was just too far from Missouri. Compromise had come in the form of an old plantation home on the island of St. Kitts. The ten-room stucco house had been a sugar plantation in the late 1700s. After a century and a half of private ownership, it had been used as a tourist resort, but had fallen into disuse and disrepair in recent years. With their house fund and combined severance packages from USITI, Chiara and John had been able to purchase and renovate the house and its twelve acres of land, fully modernizing it and restoring its tranquil, elegant beauty.

The house had seemed big to Chiara, before the Winters and Mahoney families descended upon it. Chiara’s older nieces and nephews spent most of their days at the beach, climbing nearby Mount Liamuiga, biking around the island, or simply hanging out at the shops and restaurants in Frigate Bay.

The younger children, Cady’s twins, Virginia, and one-month old Jacob, and Kyla’s daughter Niema practically lived on the lanai. Along with their unlikely babysitter, Bartholomew, the toddlers took in the island breeze from the covered patio and napped to the lullaby of the ocean softly tickling the shore.

As Chiara peeped from behind the sheers, she saw everyone assembled there on the shore. Every linen-draped folding chair had a body in it. There were a couple of people she didn’t recognize, namely the ebony-skinned young women sitting beside Troy and George.

Miss Etheline had done what none of Troy’s aunts could, which was break up a successful senior year relationship. Tiffani McCousy had dropped Troy hard soon after her run-in with Etheline Simpson. And George, basking in his newfound glory as the premier secure software designer in the United States, had developed the confidence to spend more time talking to girls in the real world rather than the virtual one to which he’d been so devoted.

USITI’s downfall had led to success for every party involved in Emmitt Grayson’s destruction. Cady’s article had been nominated for several journalism awards, including the Pulitzer. Ciel had been offered, and accepted, a position as a Missouri assistant district attorney while Lee had masterminded a restructuring plan that allowed USITI’s employees to purchase the company from Emmitt Grayson, effectively removing him from the organization entirely while sparing their jobs. Clara, in partnership with George, had a patent pending for their SNITCH technology, and not to be outdone, Kyla was in talks with a team of producers from Metronome Films to star in a film account of John and Chiara’s story.

As for Chiara and John, they had decided to build a business from home. They were equal partners with George in a fledgling software design company specializing in secureware. George had refused several top-dollar offers from major firms, choosing instead to design for his brother and sister-in-law, the only employers he’d interviewed with who hadn’t suggested that he cut his hair.

John, as CEO, would oversee operations and Chiara, once the baby was born, would be the head of technical sales.

Their ownership of the SNITCH had given them a very solid head start on the competition, and sales of that product remained strong; so strong, in fact, that George had purchased his first house—a pretty little three-bedroom on Heger Court.

Chiara watched as the native officiate in the black robes at the shoreline raised her arms, signaling for quiet. A three-piece island ensemble comprised of the
shack-shack
,
baha
and guitar began playing a soft, sweet melody, and Chiara swallowed hard. That was her cue.

She crossed the lanai and stepped out onto the warm sand, burrowing her toes into the powdery surface with each step she took closer to John, who awaited her near the woman in black. John spent so much time outdoors that his skin had darkened two shades, and his informal white linen shirt and loose-fitting drawstring trousers nicely complemented his new complexion.

With each step she took closer to her husband, Chiara felt her heart swell in her chest. John was the love of her life, and now that she was about to renew her wedding vows to him, she was delighted to do it in front of her beaming family. If she could, she would share her joy with the entire world.

She smiled to herself, shaking her head at her past behavior.
Why on earth did I hide my marriage to this man for so long
, she wondered to herself as a gentle breeze made music with the cowrie shells in her hair.
What the hell made me keep so much of my life a secret from my mother and my sisters?

She took John’s hands and spent a moment gazing into his magical eyes before turning to their assembled guests. She forgot all about the loving tyranny of her mother and sisters, and she let go of the resentment she’d harbored for so long. Chiara knew that she’d survived what she’d been through with Emmitt Grayson and USITI because of her mother and sisters. Because of her family, the one to which she’d been borne and the one she was marrying into.

Chiara met John’s eyes once more and saw his unasked question. “I’m fine,” she said, answering him softly so that only he could hear. “I’m just glad to be here.”

John cocked an eyebrow. “On the beach?”

“No.” Tears of happiness welled in Chiara’s eyes as she glanced once more at her family. “I’m glad to be home.”