by Sara Wood
She fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. He’d been tuned in to her breathing and recognised the deeper, slower inhalations as she gradually relaxed. Very carefully, he rolled over.
In the moonlight he could see the outline of her figure. The curve of her waist, the swell of her hip. His heart pounded heavily. Perhaps sensing the crackling tension of his body, she stirred and turned to face him, her eyes seemingly soft with love. Amazingly, she smiled and touched his mouth with an enquiring finger.
Hardly daring to breathe, he tentatively peeled back the sheet, expecting her to stop him at any moment. She didn’t. Taut with longing, he let his eyes feed on the graceful curves of her body, and marvelled at its beauty. Still she made no move to discourage him. Hope surged through him. She loved him. Everything would be all right
Every bone and muscle in his body strained under the ruthlessness of his restraint. He wanted to fling himself on her, kiss her passionately, make her truly his wife... Instead, he softly feathered his fingers over her warm, satiny shoulders, at her gentle sigh, he put his face close to her neck and breathed in her fragrance.
Sophia accepted his hesitant kisses along the curve of her jaw, giving out little gasps of pleasure which made him groan with relief. His cautious hand moved to the curve of her breast. The nipple was already hard beneath his fingers. A shock of desire rocketed through him and he could hold back no longer, clasping her fiercely in his arms, his mouth descending passionately on hers.
Sophia responded immediately, matching his passion as they tumbled over the bed, hungrily grasping one another and straining to press even closer. She twisted and turned against him, using her body to take the edge off her terrible need.
Then, and almost too late, she realised that she must never obey the desires of her heart or her body. Her head had to rule. Nothing else. He was worthless.
‘No! Stop!’ she cried vehemently, managing to wriggle away. His eyes were brilliant and fierce, blazing with desire. She stared at him, forcing herself to deny him. ‘Leave me alone!’ she said in a horrified whisper.
‘But... You can’t do this to me!’ he hissed savagely. ‘You can’t encourage me and- I don’t understand! I never thought you’d play the tease—’
Appalled, she hugged her throbbing body, her eyes dark with pain. A few moments later and he would have consummated the marriage. ‘You can’t sleep in the same bed as me!’ she ranted, half in anger, half anguished by her hopeless love for him. ‘I won’t have you sneaking up and raping me in the middle of the night! I won’t—!’
‘Basta! If you think that of me—!’
His face twisted in torment, he swung his legs to the floor and dragged on his robe. In fear, she watched him striding up and down, seeing the scorching anger in every rigid step he took. His mouth had become hard and grim and she could see from the way his chest heaved that he was dangerously close to losing control.
‘So!’ he spat, his eyes black with hatred. ‘I’ve done it again!’
Cowering beneath the sheet, she blinked in confusion. ‘What?’
He stopped, contempt pouring from his whole body. “You don’t know. No one does. I don’t make it a habit to tell the world about my secrets. Especially my humiliation—‘
‘You brought this on yourself!’ she shot at him.
‘By marrying again?’ He gave a harsh, humourless laugh. ‘Perhaps. But I didn’t expect my second wife to ban me from her bed. At least,’ he growled, ‘Nicoletta allowed me to make love to her on our wedding night and for a while after!’
Sophia stared. Her heart thudded loudly. ‘Did she disapprove of your infidelity? What did you expect?’ she scathed.
Rozzano frowned as if puzzled. ‘My infidelity? Far from it. Hers! She banned me because she didn’t want children to spoil her figure,’ he said contemptuously. ‘Unknown to me, she aborted her first child and wouldn’t let me touch her after that.’
He was lying, though she couldn’t fathom why. Pity, perhaps? ‘I think you’ve forgotten something. She did become pregnant again—that’s why she died. You must have been together as man and wife...’
Her voice trailed away. He looked ashen, his eyes tiny pinpoints of pain.
‘No. She had an affair with Enrico,’ he said hoarsely.
Sophia clutched at her breast in horror.
‘The child was his. A mistake, he told me. She tried to abort it in secret in some clinic in South America. Developed septicaemia. And died.’
The silence was crushing. He’d kept this secret locked up inside of him, pretending that everything was fine between Enrico and himself for the sake of...his wretched family. Sophia drew in a long, despairing breath. How could she say what she felt? That her heart went out to him, that she couldn’t imagine how he’d lived day by day, knowing his brother had indirectly killed his beloved wife?
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she whispered. ‘To love someone and be betrayed—’
‘I didn’t love her by then,’ he broke in curtly. ‘I’d discovered how shallow and grasping she was. Well, Sophia. It seems...’ he grunted, bitter humour twisting his mouth. ‘...history repeats itself. This time, however, I refuse to let a woman destroy my life. Do what you damn well please. I won’t attempt to make love to you again.’
At least, thought Sophia towards the end of the week, he’d been true to his word. With an almost inhuman control of his features, he’d outlined the rules. One: as she’d suggested, they were to be affectionate in public. Two: during their honeymoon he’d pretend to be teaching her to ride. When they were out of sight of the house, he would leave her to her own devices. He would return after his ride and they would arrive back at the house together. Three: he would sleep on the sofa. Four: when they were back in Venice, they would discuss the future in detail.
With little sleep, little food that week and tension gripping every muscle in her body, Sophia felt dog-weary. It was their last day at the villa and she’d been powerwalking for over two hours, punishing her body in an attempt to blank out her mind.
Hearing the thunder of hooves, she rose from the tree stump where she’d been waiting, intending to mount her tethered palomino. Before she could do so, a sudden attack of giddiness assailed Sophia and she swayed, clutching at a tree for support.
‘Are you ill?’ came Rozzano’s urgent voice, from far, far away.
Darkness was spiralling all around her. She felt his arms holding her up and gradually the fog cleared. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I think I got up too quickly.’
She swallowed, shaken by his nearness. As usual when riding, he wore just breeches and boots and an opennecked white shirt. His body was slicked with sweat and tiny trickles of moisture were dripping from his tousled wet hair. He’d been punishing himself too, she mused vaguely.
‘You haven’t been eating much. You need a good meal inside you,’ he growled.
Weakly she leaned her head back against the trunk of the tree. ‘That’s it. I didn’t have any dinner last night, or breakfast this morning. I’ll be all right once I’ve...’
Her voice had become a hoarse croak. His warm breath had sensitised her lips, making them open in an instinctive invitation.
They stood there for an eternity, it seemed, his body against hers, pressing her to the tree, his strength and warmth infinitely desirable. She felt too weak to fight the demands of her heart and went limp in his grasp.
For a brief second his mouth drove brutally into hers, bringing her back to pulsating life again. Then he had stepped back and was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as if it were contaminates.
‘I’ll ride back on my own today,’ he rasped, his face consumed with anger. ‘I’ll send a groom out for you—’
‘No.’ Miserably she stumbled towards her pony. ‘I’ll come.’
She attempted to mount and didn’t seem to have the strength. With a muttered imprecation, Rozzano strode forward and cupped his hands. Close to tears, she placed her small booted foot there, and he tipped h
er easily into the saddle.
They returned in silence. One day, she thought, I will surrender in a weak moment. And I’ll hate myself for evermore.
As was their custom, they stood with their arms around one another chatting to the groom. The tension in her neck and shoulders screamed for Rozzano’s magic touch to ease her muscles. The ache in her body begged for something more fundamental and primitive.
Somehow she kept up an inane chatter during the lunch he forced her to eat, and then at last she was free to wander in the garden alone. In the privacy of the summer house she opened one of the lace-curtained windows for air and curled up on the cushions of a huge cane chair beside it, trying to concentrate on her plans for the orphanage.
Until she heard Arabella, calling Rozzano’s name.
He whirled around, his hackles up. He’d wanted to find Sophia, to know how she was, and here was Arabella—the cause of his problems! He leant against the summerhouse veranda and eyed her narrowly.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he demanded in a hard tone.
She looked scared, but came towards him nevertheless. ‘I came to apologise.’
‘For what?’ he scathed. ‘Seducing my brother on my wedding day? Or for being one of his mistresses for the past two years?’
‘I’ve been his only mistress for six months,’ she defended. ‘I know what you think of me,’ she went on more quietly. ‘I did try to do what you said—to prevent scandal by pretending an interest in anyone other than Enrico. Letizia was fooled—she thought I had designs on you—’
‘She’s your friend,’ he said coldly. ‘How could you deceive her?’
‘I can’t help who I love, Rozzano!’ she declared passionately. ‘Can you?’
He clenched his teeth to deaden the pain. ‘No.’
‘I didn’t set out to hurt anyone. But I am deeply sorry for what we did at your wedding. We were both rather drunk, but it was still unforgivable.’ She hung her head. ‘I felt ashamed when you stood there, handing me my clothes as if you didn’t even trust me to get dressed without supervision.’
‘If I hadn’t come in and stopped you both,’ he said in contempt, ‘you would have committed adultery in Alberto’s house. How could you? You were guests at my wedding—’
‘Yes, but we’re crazy about one another! Don’t you know what it’s like not to touch the person you love?’
He couldn’t answer for several seconds. Even then, when he spoke his voice betrayed how he felt. ‘Yes. I know.’
‘Forgive us. But we do love each other.’ She hesitated. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye. Enrico and I are going away together.’
He let out a hiss of surprise. ‘And Letizia?’
‘She cares only for money. Enrico will give her a good settlement. And perhaps she’ll find someone she loves too. It’s better than living a lie, Rozzano! You have to admit that!’
But he wouldn’t meet her eyes because she was right. ‘You know he can’t be faithful,’ he cautioned, beginning to think that perhaps Arabella was the right woman for Enrico with her guts and determination.
‘I do know. I’m willing to take that chance. He’s not strong, like you. But few men can be, Rozzano. You’re too big an icon for him to live up to. Maybe in England he’ll stop trying to prove he can do just one thing better than you, and learn to be himself. I’ll make something of us both. One day you’ll be proud of your brother. I promise you that. I’m only sorry that you haven’t found someone to love—’
He winced. ‘Don’t believe everything you hear.’ Suddenly he wanted to rid himself of all the lies, the pretences he’d nursed for the whole of his life. ‘Arabella, I know that on my wedding day I told you and Enrico what my feelings were for Sophia. But I lied to protect her. I...love Sophia more than my own life. I thought that if Rico knew that he’d hurt her to get his own back on me. So I said I’d married her because she was suitable and I wanted an heir. Whereas...’ his voice deepened ‘...she’s the most important person to me on this earth. I value her above everything.’
‘I don’t understand your motives for lying, but I’m glad. Perhaps both the Barsini brothers will be happy at last,’ Arabella said quietly. She kissed him on the cheek. ‘Goodbye. God bless you. Be happy.’
He didn’t move for a long time. His heart felt like stone, his limbs leaden. ‘Be happy’. As if.
He covered his face, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Thank God no one could see him. He drew in a raw, painful breath and wiped a small tear from his eye. He’d abandon his intended search for Sophia. What was the point? He couldn’t put himself through that torture again. Every second in her company was agony. He couldn’t wait for the time when they began to lead separate lives.
Devastated, Sophia watched him through the heavy lace curtains. He’d lied to Enrico because he’d feared that the past would be repeated, and his brother would try to seduce her.
She had wronged Rozzano terribly. Almost ruined them both. Paralysed with shock, she felt a huge lump of emotion fill her throat. It was so hard and painful that she couldn’t call out and stop him from walking away as if the world sat on his shoulders.
He loved her. Arabella had never been interested in him—or he in Arabella. Everything he’d said had been true and she’d chosen not to believe him. His staff and friends had greater faith than she did. Appalled, she followed his slow progress along the lakeside. He stumbled and her heart leapt with compassion.
Perhaps he would forgive her. Suddenly life came back to her shocked body and she jumped to her feet, flying out of the summer house towards him.
‘Rozzano!’ she yelled, half sobbing as she ran. ‘Stop, Rozzano!’
He spun around in alarm. ‘What’s happened? Who’s hurt you?’
‘I’ve hurt me!’ she wailed, coming to a halt a few feet away, the tears streaming down her face.
‘Where?’ he demanded, frowning.
‘Here,’ she sobbed, her hand on her heart. ‘And I’ve hurt you—’
‘I thought you’d been injured,’ he muttered. ‘Cut the dramatics. I’m not in the mood. Leave me in peace!’
Panting and distraught, she struggled to master her tears and speak coherently. ‘But Rozz—’ she began jerkily.
‘Leave me! For God’s sake, see when you’re not wanted!’ he snarled, striding rapidly away.
‘You do want me!’ she cried, running to his side and grabbing his arm.
He shook her off. But said nothing, forging on, his face thunderous.
‘I want you,’ she whispered.
His stride checked, then continued. But she’d shaken him.
Her hand stole to his chest. He brushed it away. She slid it around his strong back and he flinched.
‘What are you trying to do?’ he snarled, coming to an abrupt halt.
He sounded like a wounded animal. She stared into his blazing, pain-filled eyes and let out a shuddering breath. There was one way to prove her trust in him. Slowly she began to unbutton her shirt.
She had his attention. His gaze searched hers warily as if she might be deliberately tormenting him. He made no move to touch her but stood tensely, an arm’s length away.
Sophia didn’t take her eyes from his. Slipping the shirt from her shoulders, she saw the tremor in his jaw and knew he was finding it difficult to remain indifferent. The shirt drifted to the ground. Her fingers reached back for the clasp of her lacy bra and Rozzano gave a satisfyingly sharp intake of breath when that, too, was discarded.
Too intent on gaining his love and forgiveness to even think about her natural inhibitions, she teased him by taking her time over unbuckling the belt of her jodhpurs.
‘I need help with the boots,’ she breathed, nerves and sexual hunger making her voice husky. This had to work. He mustn’t turn away in cold pride and ruin their future. Shaking with sheer desperation, she braced her naked back against the smooth trunk of a eucalyptus tree and lifted one booted leg invitingly.
As if in a dream, he swallowed hard th
en knelt to ease first one, then the other boot from her feet. But he stood up again, still keeping his distance as if he didn’t totally trust her.
Sophia felt panic rise within her. She would have to lure him still further. Wriggling the jodhpurs down, she tossed them away and stood naked but for a pair of tiny red lace briefs. Her breasts felt tight and hard, every inch of her skin tingled with sensation. Her body was ready for him and he must know it.
‘Make love to me,’ she murmured.
He didn’t move an inch. But there had been a small, betraying twitch of his jaw and a flicker of his lowered lashes. Sophia lifted her arms above her head and pulled her hair from its confining snood. Gulping at her own audacity, she let her fingers drift down over her breasts.
‘I want to have your child,’ she told him huskily, her heart melting at the struggle going on within him. ‘I love you, Rozzano. I know you weren’t unfaithful to me. I want to apologise for doubting you. I misunderstood what I saw. I heard Arabella talking to you outside the summer house. Oh, please, please forgive me!’ she begged.
She was in his arms in a moment, being crushed in his impassioned embrace. ‘Sophia!’ he rasped in her ear. ‘Of course I forgive you! I’d have doubted you under the same circumstances. The evidence was damning. My darling! I thought I’d lost you—’
Her tear-stained face lifted to his. ‘I love you so much! I couldn’t bear to think of life without your love—’
‘Nor I without yours,’ he said rawly. ‘I think I fell in love with you straight away. I didn’t realise till later. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever felt before. I thought I was acting rationally, scheming and plotting because I needed an heir and you seemed perfect to be my wife. And then, when we were in London and you said we must part, I felt devastated. Even then I couldn’t admit the truth: that I loved you. Yet I wanted to protect you, care for you, keep you with me day and night, every second of the day. Whenever we were separated I felt as if something was missing. It was: a part of my heart. I fell madly in love with you, Sophia, despite all my efforts to stop that happening. I still am in love with you. I love you more than anything in the whole of my life.’
