by Annie West
He took a deep breath, trying to make sense of what Carys had revealed.
‘But you’re reading the international news page.’ In a paper renowned for in-depth, incisive journalism. It was no lightweight read.
Carys moved so swiftly, surging to her feet, that he stepped back a pace. Her eyes glittered blue fire as her gaze clashed with his.
‘Just because I’m a slow reader doesn’t mean I’m thick! You understood that before.’ She paused, as if grappling for control over her hurt and disappointment.
Why couldn’t he have remembered this one thing at least about her?
‘I read the international news because I’m interested, even if it takes me longer than some people. Some days, like today, it’s just slower than others, OK?’
‘OK.’ Alessandro watched the fire dim in her eyes as she wrapped her arms tight round her torso again.
Guilt carved a hole inside Alessandro’s chest as he remembered how he’d all but forced her to sign the prenup on the spot. He’d already guessed she was exhausted and wrung out from stress. He’d had no compunction about seizing on her weakness and stampeding through her objections to get what he wanted, just as he would in any business deal.
But this wasn’t business. It wasn’t nearly so simple.
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, watching her rub her arms as if from cold. Clearly her dyslexia was an emotional issue. She was so defensive. ‘I didn’t mean to imply—’
‘That I’m dumb?’ Her lips curved up in a smile that held pain rather than humour.
‘Of course not. No one would.’ He didn’t have any personal experience of the condition, but even he knew that.
Her laugh was hollow. ‘You think not?’
‘Carys?’ Her distressed expression was too much. He reached out and took her by the shoulders. ‘Talk to me,’ he commanded as he massaged her stiff muscles, trying to ease their rigidity. Her pain made him feel uncomfortable…edgy…protective.
Again that bleak smile. ‘Everyone thought I was slow-witted because I couldn’t read well. Everyone. I was always bottom of the class. Even when I reached high school and a teacher suspected what was wrong, it was easier for people to think I was just slow.’
Alessandro frowned. ‘Kids can be cruel.’
She lifted her shoulders in a weary gesture. ‘Not just kids. My father is a professor; my mother ran her own business. My siblings are all academic over-achievers. They found it difficult to adjust to me. I didn’t measure up.’
‘Adjust to you?’ Alessandro’s jaw tightened. ‘They should have been encouraging you, looking after you.’
She shook her head. ‘They preferred to bury themselves in their own activities.’ From the raw pain in her voice Alessandro guessed they had provided precious little support.
The idea infuriated him. Kids needed more from their parents than the bare necessities of life.
Suddenly it struck him that he and Carys had a lot in common—both had been left at too young an age to look after themselves.
‘Even when I stopped working in dead-end jobs and finally found the nerve to sign up for a hotel management degree, they saw it as second best.’ She paused, the dead chill in her eyes carving a chasm through his chest. ‘That’s all they ever expected from me…second best.’
‘Carys.’ He pulled her close, pushing her head down against his shoulder. His heart thumped unsteadily at the wild emotions running through him. He’d been angry and distrustful of her, yet now, seeing the hurt she tried so hard to hide, he felt compassion and a driving need to make things better.
Her pain felt like his. Sharp as a blade, it transfixed him.
He’d never experienced such empathy for anyone else. Or such a strong impulse to protect.
Automatically he rocked her against him, feeling shudder after shudder rack her taut frame.
‘You’re not second best, Carys. You’re a wonderful mother. Anyone seeing Leo would know that. Plus you excel at your work.’ He’d taken the time to find that out in Melbourne. ‘And you haven’t let dyslexia hold you back from tertiary study.’ How she’d coped with that he had no idea. His own ability to read and quickly absorb huge amounts of information was something he’d always taken for granted.
‘You’re a special woman, tesoro. Never forget it.’
Slowly he stroked her back, feeling her tension begin to ease. But he didn’t release her. He wanted to hold her. And not just because she was the woman at the centre of every erotic daydream he’d had for months.
He wanted to comfort her. The tenderness and regret that welled inside him at her story, the tide of anger on her behalf, overwhelmed him.
His mind shied from the realisation that he’d so easily misread her. Because if he dwelled on that too long, he might have to consider that he’d misjudged her in other things.
Her question on their wedding night echoed too clearly for comfort.
I believe you didn’t betray me, Alessandro. Is it so hard for you to believe I didn’t betray you?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ALESSANDRO nuzzled the silk tresses on his pillow, inhaling the scent of flowers. He wound a strand round his fingers, then brushed the end across her bare breast.
Carys shivered. Even now, exhausted from lovemaking, she responded to him. As he did to her.
It was as if she’d got into his blood, his bones.
Still it wasn’t enough. ‘Tell me about us,’ he murmured, finally confronting the need that had gnawed at him so long. ‘What did we do together…before? What was it like?’
He watched her breathing falter. Raising his gaze, he found her biting her lip. Wary eyes met his.
‘You really want to know?’
He nodded. More than ever he needed to understand. Knowing the past might help him understand the present.
Huge eyes surveyed him carefully, as if seeking a hidden trap. Then she looked down to where he caressed her. Long eyelashes shielded her eyes from his gaze.
‘It was like a summer storm. Like a lightning strike out of the blue.’ Her lips tilted up. ‘It was sudden and overwhelming. Wonderful and scary and…undeniable.’
‘The sex, you mean?’ She described perfectly the marrow-melting intensity of their loving.
Her moue of disappointment told him he’d got it wrong. ‘No.’ She tugged the sheet up, dislodging his hand. He ignored the tiny splinter of hurt that jabbed him.
‘So tell me. What did we do together?’
She shrugged. ‘Everything. You taught me to ski and snowboard. We went climbing and hiked some of the hills here. I cooked you Aussie style roast lamb and pavlova for dessert, and you taught me about Italian wines and the history of the area.’ Her voice was so wistful he felt a pang of discomfort.
But greater still was his confusion. He’d taken her climbing and hiking? He slid a hand around her hip, lodging her concretely against him as the world started to spin.
‘Alessandro? What is it? Have I sparked a memory?’
Numbly his shook his head. ‘No memory.’ The words were curt, but he couldn’t help it. He still couldn’t face with equanimity the fact he’d probably never remember.
Yet that wasn’t what shocked him.
Climbing, hiking, constituted his rare, private time away from the high-pressure business world. He climbed with a friend or two. Male friends. He hiked alone. Always. Most of his acquaintances had no notion he loved the mountains even more than his fast cars. The idea of sharing that most precious private time with a woman was astonishing.
‘We hiked together?’ His voice sounded rusty.
Carys nodded. ‘It was glorious. The countryside’s so lovely. In the evening we’d sit together and discuss where we’d head the next weekend.’
‘Really?’ The picture she conjured was completely foreign. Yet it seemed…right. He frowned, wondering how he knew that so definitely when he remembered nothing.
‘You don’t believe me.’ She shuffled away to prop herself against the bed head, hurt s
himmering in her eyes.
He reached out to cup her face, stunned by what he’d learned. He needed to know more. But this wasn’t the time.
‘I believe you, Carys.’ He paused. ‘Tell me about Leo. What was he like as a newborn? Did you know from the first how intelligent he was?’
The sound of his son’s laughter warmed Alessandro, but it was the sight of his wife, smiling as she held Leo up to look out the ferry window, that made something shift inside him. Something he hadn’t ever acknowledged before.
The barrier that had kept him safely separate and self-contained from those who tried to get too close.
Alessandro drew a slow breath and exhaled, battling the turmoil inside.
This shift wasn’t a sudden event. The barrier had been crumbling for weeks. Day by day the connection with Leo and Carys had strengthened, growing into something he’d never expected to feel. There was protectiveness, possessiveness, caring. Joy and acceptance.
Despite the ferry’s smooth progress across the lake, Alessandro rocked back on his feet as if struck off balance.
He should have expected it, he supposed, with Leo.
His son.
Though his own parents had never indicated they felt anything for Alessandro except mild pleasure if he did well and cold dismissal if he intruded at an inopportune time, he knew what the bond between parent and child should be. When he discovered his son, he’d acted instantly to get custody, desperate to ensure Leo was in the care of a loving parent.
Even though Alessandro knew he had everything to learn about how to love.
He’d never expected it would come so easily.
He watched Leo point out the window and babble, talking to both Carys and Bruno, standing protectively beside them. Something warm inside Alessandro’s chest expanded and his lips twitched as he watched his boy’s animated face.
His boy.
The happiness Leo had brought into Alessandro’s life, and the weighty sense of responsibility, were unprecedented.
He wouldn’t change them for anything.
His gaze shifted to Carys and the way her gentle smile lit her face. She did things to him he didn’t understand.
A lifetime’s lessons in the ways of women had taught him he’d be a fool to give any woman his heart on a platter.
And yet, these past weeks he’d grown…comfortable with her. Never comfortable enough to ignore the effervescent bubble of lust that was now a constant in his life. But relaxed as he’d never been with any other woman.
So relaxed he had to force himself to remember that, like the rest of her sex, she wasn’t above cheating on a man.
Yet looking at her now, so thrilled that he’d given in to her request to do something ‘normal’ like spend the afternoon sightseeing around the lake, without a limo or a Lamborghini or any other of his ‘rich man’s toys’, he found it hard to believe she could be selfishly calculating.
He didn’t want to believe it. That was the most astonishing of all.
He found himself trusting her in so many ways. Liking her. Not merely desiring her.
She was different.
Her disinterest in cash was genuine. She really did prefer a picnic by the lake to the ostentation of Milan’s top restaurants. And though she now spent money from her account, it was mainly on toys and books for Leo rather than fashion for herself.
She was completely different to his mother, who’d had barely a maternal bone in her body. Carys was a wonderful mother.
Alessandro realised his insurance policy, the prenup that provided her with a fortune if she stayed with Leo, hadn’t been necessary. Nothing on this earth would drag Carys from her son. Alessandro approved of her for that alone.
And, he realised, for so many other things.
For her indomitable spirit, conquering what he realised were wounds as old and deep as his. Overcoming dyslexia and the ingrained sense of not measuring up, to get on with her life.
Her intelligence. Her quiet dignity.
Carys was the sort of wife a man could be proud of in many ways. With her warmth and generosity of spirit, he saw her taking her place beside him in the public aspects of his life. Livia had fulfilled the public responsibilities of the Contessa Mattani with panache, but with a cool intolerance for what she termed ‘the ordinary people’ that made him grit his teeth.
Across the cabin Carys stretched and her sundress grew taut across her breasts. Predictably his body tightened in a spasm of hunger.
Alessandro thought of their slow, languorous lovemaking this morning, of the wonder in her eyes as he brought her to climax and pumped his life essence inside her.
His gaze dipped to her flat belly and excitement stirred. For all they knew she could even now be carrying another of his children. Raw, primal satisfaction smote him at the idea of watching her grow big with his baby. He’d missed that the first time. But now…they could build a family together and he’d participate in every moment.
‘Signor Conte.’
Alessandro dragged himself from his thoughts to focus on the small, grey-haired woman before him.
Some sixth sense made Carys turn and look for Alessandro. He stood not far away, head tilted down as he listened to the rotund woman before him. The intensity of his expression, the stillness of his rangy frame, sent a skitter of prescience up her spine.
The woman looked vaguely familiar.
At her side Bruno also watched the pair, making no move to intervene. Yet something was wrong. She sensed it.
‘Bruno, would you please take Leo?’ She met the minder’s startled gaze as she thrust Leo towards him. Barely waiting to see her son settled, she turned towards Alessandro. The woman leaned in, gripping his arm.
Begging? No, that wouldn’t leach the colour from Alessandro’s face. The woman tilted her head and finally Carys recognised her: Rosina, who’d been Alessandro’s housekeeper when he’d lived in his home in the hills behind the lake.
Rosina had been so friendly and warm. She’d encouraged Carys in her tentative attempts to learn Italian. More, she’d provided comfort in the form of a cup of tea or a plate of fruit and admonishment not to starve herself when Carys felt her relationship with Alessandro shatter around her.
Carys squeezed through the seats, eager to greet her, but more than ever concerned by Alessandro’s frozen expression. She regretted now that she’d requested they come by ferry instead of private boat or car.
After being surrounded by servants, getting used to her new life as the Contessa Mattani, and absorbing the overwhelming reality of her role as Alessandro’s wife, she’d been eager for a ‘normal’ day with people who hadn’t a clue who she was. Had it been a mistake?
By the time she reached the aisle, Rosina had gone and the ferry was coming in to dock. People rose, ready to stream ashore.
Yet Alessandro stood unmoving, as if riveted to the spot. Fear made her heart thump so hard it seemed to catapult around her chest.
She hadn’t wanted to care for him, but somehow he’d deviously wormed his way back into her heart. He pleasured her to within an inch of her sanity, comforted her when she needed it, made her feel…special.
She could no longer pretend she didn’t care. Didn’t love.
Carys swallowed a welling knot of anxiety. ‘Alessandro?’
He turned and for a moment it seemed as if he didn’t see her. His gaze was blank, inward looking. Then he blinked, focused, and snagged her close, away from the people thronging towards the door.
‘Bruno has Leo? Good.’ He sounded just the same as ever, but he looked…different.
‘What is it, Alessandro?’ He met her eyes for a moment before looking away, towards the passengers. Somewhere in that crowd was the woman who’d talked to him so earnestly.
‘Come.’ He curved his arm around her back and led her to the door. ‘It’s all right. Leo and Bruno are on their way.’
It wasn’t all right; Carys could see the pinched line of his mouth and the deep crease in his forehead.
‘Please, Alessandro.’ The look on his face, as if he’d just seen a ghost, frightened her. ‘What’s wrong? What did Rosina want?’
He turned then, the expression in his shadowed eyes unreadable. ‘You remember her?’
‘Of course. She was kind to me.’ At a time when Carys had felt lost. ‘Does she still work for you?’ Carys realised she didn’t even know if he’d kept his mountain home.
He shook his head. ‘When I went to hospital, the house was shut up. She took the retirement she’d put off and moved away to be near her daughter. When I came out of hospital I settled into the family villa instead.’
Was that wistfulness in his voice? The home he’d built had been so like him, vibrantly unique and attractive. Did he miss it?
‘But she said something to you.’ Something significant.
Alessandro shrugged, walking ahead as her steps slowed.
‘She said it was good to see me again, all recovered. Good to see us,’ he added after a moment.
Carys started forward. ‘She remembered me?’ He nodded. ‘What else did she say?’ There was more. Shadows darkened Alessandro’s face, each line etched as if on a lifeless mask.
‘She congratulated us on our wedding. She read about it in the papers.’
‘And?’ Alessandro was stonewalling. After living with him she knew that much.
Suddenly he stopped and turned. ‘She was there the day you left.’
The day Alessandro had told her to go. The day he’d found her, dishevelled from holding Stefano Manzoni at bay, and leapt to the conclusion she’d been fooling with her lover, not fighting off a predator. Alessandro’s fury had been instantaneous and all consuming, as if the incident had thrown fuel on a long-smouldering fire.
