The Italians: Cristiano, Vittorio and Dario: Once a Ferrara Wife... / A Dark Sicilian Secret / Blackmailed Bride, Innocent Wife

‘Of course you do. Whenever the conversation becomes uncomfortable you want to move. Usually as fast as possible in the opposite direction.’ He levered himself to his feet. ‘I’ll allow you to go as far as the bed.’ Without giving her the opportunity to argue, he scooped her into his arms.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake—I can walk. I don’t need all this macho stuff. I’ve told you, it does nothing for me.’ Her breathing felt strange again but this time she knew it had nothing to do with her asthma and everything to do with being this close to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, telling herself it was just for support. Nothing else.

The doors were open to the beach and a slight breeze cooled the air as he laid her gently on the bed.

He removed his jacket and slung it carelessly over the sofa. Then he piled the pillows up behind her. ‘Better?’ At her reluctant nod his mouth tightened. ‘When did your asthma become this bad? In all the time we were together I only saw you have an attack once and that was when my pilot had to make an emergency landing and some fool told you about it.’

She didn’t even want to think about the terror of that day. Not now, when she was working on forgetting what they’d shared in the past. ‘You and I were in the middle of a huge project. I didn’t want you dying and leaving me with all the work.’

The corners of his mouth tilted in appreciative humour. ‘Of course. You were worried about the workload. It wasn’t because I rocked your world.’

‘I didn’t see enough of you for you to rock my world. At the most you were a faint tremble.’

‘So if I had so little impact on your life, why did you pack two inhalers to come to this wedding?’

‘Are there two in my bag?’ She feigned surprise and his lashes swept down over his eyes, concealing his expression, but not before she’d seen the flash of exasperation.

‘I wish you would learn to be honest about your feelings.’

‘I wish you would learn not to let your feelings spill out. I suppose I have to make allowances for the fact you’re Sicilian.’

‘Allowances?’

It was a relief to know she could still irritate him. Two minutes, she thought, and then he’d be ranting in Italian and storming out. She was relying on it. ‘Being Sicilian is a handicap in life,’ she murmured sympathetically. ‘Being emotional is welded into your DNA. You can’t help it.’

‘Not everyone is afraid of emotions.’ He undid the cuffs of his shirt in a slow, deliberate movement. ‘But you are. Terrified. Two-inhalers terrified.’

She wondered why he was removing his jacket when what he should really be doing was redoing his bow tie and returning to the party.

When she remained silent he raised an eyebrow and dropped his cufflinks onto the small writing table that faced the sea. ‘What, no comeback, Laurel? No incendiary statement designed to make me walk out? That’s what you want, isn’t it? Do you think I don’t know that?’ The sleeves of his shirt flopped over his strong hands and he folded them back and pushed them up his arms. She remembered those arms holding her and immediately looked away, rejecting the powerful surge of need. She’d always found it unfair that someone with such a casual attitude to his appearance could look so good in every situation.

‘You can stay or go, I don’t care. I don’t need you.’

‘Need and want are two different things.’ He looked at the inhaler clutched in her palm. ‘So your attacks are brought on by stress. That’s interesting. You weren’t stressed when we were together.’

‘As I said, that’s because I never saw you,’ she said sweetly. ‘I’ve seen more of you in the last twenty-four hours than I ever did during our marriage. Probably why I’m stressed.’

‘I’m stressed too. You are enough to drive a man crazy.’ His low drawl connected with her insides and suddenly that melting feeling low in her pelvis was back.

‘You only have to survive my company until Sunday. My flight leaves first thing in the morning.’

‘We have a meeting with the lawyers tomorrow morning.’

‘I don’t need to speak to them. Agree whatever you want and it will be fine by me.’

The mattress moved as he sat down next to her. ‘If you’re that angry with me then this is your chance to bleed me dry.’

‘It was never about the money, you know that.’

‘I don’t know anything because you never share anything. A relationship with you is one big guessing game.’ He sounded tired and witnessing that was a thousand times more unsettling than his anger or sarcasm because she’d never seen him tired. Cristiano had more energy than any man she’d ever met.

‘If you’d been around more you wouldn’t have had to guess.’ On that terrible day—the day he’d missed—her feelings had been there for all to see. Except the only witnesses had been the staff of the private hospital. Competent but brisk, they’d had no idea of the extent of her desolation. ‘I’ll fly home tomorrow. The last thing you need right now is your ex-wife at your sister’s wedding.’

‘Wife.’ The words were soft but firm. ‘You’re not my ex-wife.’

‘Soon will be.’ It was so dangerous, being this close to him. She didn’t dare look at him. Didn’t dare move in case she brushed against him, so she held herself rigid.

‘Your breathing is better.’

‘So now you can go back to the party.’

He didn’t rise but he did give her a warning look. ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa in the living room. Leave the door open. If you need anything you can call out.’

A lump settled in her throat. ‘Honestly, you don’t need to do this. Just go and answer the thousands of emails that will undoubtedly be waiting for you on your phone.’ She didn’t want him to behave decently now. It was too late.

‘So now you’re giving me permission to be insensitive?’

Yes, because anything different would complicate her feelings and she didn’t want that.

Her mind was straight. She wanted it to stay straight.

Laurel gave a shrug that was supposed to indicate that she didn’t care what he did. ‘If acting like a guard dog makes you feel better about yourself then at least let me be the one to sleep on the sofa.’

‘Why? I can sleep anywhere, you know that.’

She did know. In the middle of tough negotiations there had been nights when he’d slept in the office to avoid coming home in the middle of the night and waking her. ‘In that case, do whatever pleases you.’

When he reached out to switch off the lamp by the bed she caught his arm. ‘Leave it.’

It was such a cliché, but she hated the dark.

On her own, she always slept with a light on. Only with Cristiano had she been able to feel safe at night.

He frowned, his gaze steady and disturbingly perceptive. ‘I’ll stay with you for a few minutes, just until I’m sure you don’t need a doctor.’ As he pulled off his shoes and settled on the bed next to her she wanted to ask why he was doing this. Why he was he staying with her when they were no longer together. When it was much, much too late for their marriage.

They sat together in silence, close but not touching. As her breathing grew easier and the panic lessened, so her awareness of him grew. The length of his powerful thigh next to hers and his deep, even breathing. The connection between them, that dangerous indefinable chemistry that should have died along with her dreams, sprang to life.

Slowly, she turned her head and looked at him.

He turned his head too and his eyes fixed on hers.

Both should have looked away but neither of them did.

The inevitability of it was as sweet and sharp as the desire that stabbed through her body.

His hand lifted and his fingers dragged lightly over her jaw. The stroke of his thumb over her lower lip was gentle. When he lowered his head he did it slowly, as if he wasn’t sure he was actually going to follow through. His mouth brushed against hers. A teasing prelude. It was insane and she should have moved, but she couldn’t. Anticipation exploded inside her. For a few thrilling seconds his mouth hovered close to hers and then he lost his grip on control and took her mouth in a hard, devouring kiss that blew every thought from her brain. She tried to hold herself back, not to become involved, but his kiss drew her in until they merged, until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began, until her whole world centred on what they became together. His tongue was in her mouth, his hands in her hair and they feasted on each other like animals driven wild by deprivation. It was intoxicating, the rush of sexual excitement as heady as any drug and just as dangerous.

Time passed unnoticed and then he gave a growl of self-denial and dragged his mouth from hers, regret visible in every plane of his handsome face. ‘No.’ The raw emotion in his voice reflected her own feelings.