by Dani Collins
‘I have never been anything but honest, Emma.’ Impatience clawed at his voice.
‘Then perhaps I am at fault for looking for something that isn’t there.’ Her hands fluttered to her abdomen, smoothing over the slight swell beneath the blue fabric before letting her hands rest there, possessively, protectively. As if she needed to guard their unborn child from him. ‘And that is the problem I have to address. The reason I am here.
‘I can’t carry on the way we are any longer. I can’t pretend that I am fine with your brisk efficiency, your lack of emotion. The way you would come to my bed but then sneak away before morning, as if what we had just done was wrong, sordid. You made me feel used, ashamed. You have taken the intimacy between us, something precious, special, at least to me, and turned it into something dirty. Shameful.’
‘That was never my intention...’
‘And then when you were called here to Ravenino, the place that means so much to you, you pushed me away again. Shut me out.’
Leo dragged a hand through his hair. Why was she persisting in raking over this when no good would come of it?
‘You erected barriers right from the start, enforced boundaries to keep me out. To keep me in my place. And it worked for a while. I thought I could stick to the rules. But now I find I can’t. It’s too hard.’
Holding himself totally still, Leo’s mind whirred to find ways to put an end to this misery. If Emma was unhappy, and clearly she was, he would renegotiate the terms, strike another deal. This was what he did. What he was good at. Even if right now it felt as if a heavy boot was pressing down on his chest. He just had to fight harder to maintain control. He had no choice.
‘And what exactly is it that you find so hard?’ He used sarcasm to mask his growing agitation.
But then Emma’s lip trembled, taunting him, driving him nearly mad.
‘Everything.’ Her shuddering sigh racked her whole body. ‘I know the last thing you wanted was to have our marriage complicated by messy emotions. And I’m sorry for that. Truly I am. But I can’t help it.’
‘Can’t help what?’
‘I can’t help being in love with you.’
The words bloomed inside his head, spreading hot and thick, pounding through him.
Emma was in love with him? How was that possible?
He had worked so hard not to let their relationship fall into this trap. Keeping himself emotionally sterile at all times. It had never been a problem before. Distancing himself from the many women that had graced his bed in recent years had been easy. Impervious to their simpering flattery or declarations of ardour, his heart had been left completely untouched. It only went to prove what he had known all along. He wasn’t capable of love. His mother’s betrayal had killed his heart stone dead.
But with Emma it was different. Somehow, she had managed to creep beneath his impregnable defences. So he had redoubled his efforts to keep her at bay, cutting short the time they spent together, working even longer hours than were absolutely necessary, dragging himself from her bed when all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms, feel her skin against his as they drifted off to sleep, wake to see her head next to him on the pillow. Even though every night tearing himself away from her was more difficult than the one before.
But he had done it. He had been strong, for Emma’s sake. And he’d thought he had succeeded. That his effort hadn’t been in vain. Until now. Until this.
He could feel Emma’s eyes locked on his face, tracking every twitch of muscle, seeking out the turmoil that lay just beneath the surface. Well, she would not find it. He refused to expose his emotions to her. He had no intention of laying his feelings bare. He didn’t even understand them himself, except to know they were raw and powerful and pulled his skin too tight. No, this situation needed to be calmed and contained, and the sooner the better. Before things got completely out of hand.
He twisted away, taking a second to compose himself, to steady the pounding of his blood. Turning back on a sharp intake of breath, he was ready to face her again.
‘I agree this is an unfortunate situation.’ But not her eyes. He couldn’t look into those pale blue eyes for fear of coming undone. Instead his gaze hovered somewhere over the top of her head. ‘But perhaps you are mistaken.’
‘I am not mistaken, Leo.’
‘Is it possible the pregnancy is confusing your emotions?’
‘Don’t, Leo.’ She flashed him a murderous look. ‘Just don’t.’
‘Mi dispiace?’
‘Please don’t patronise me by suggesting I can’t interpret my own feelings. At least do me the courtesy of acknowledging that what I say is the truth. My truth. I have been in love with you for weeks, months, maybe since the first time we met. Those are the facts.’
‘And what am I supposed to do with these facts?’ The twist in his gut turned to anger, something he could deal with. ‘You turn up here uninvited, unannounced, making wild announcements about not being able to carry on with our relationship. How exactly do you expect me to react?’
‘I just want honesty, Leo, that’s all. The same honesty as I have shown to you.’
‘Very well.’ He ground down on his jaw. ‘You need to know that I will not be blackmailed.’
‘Blackmailed?’ The bitter word turned to astonishment on her open lips.
‘Yes, blackmailed, Emma. In my experience, the only reason a woman tells a man she loves him is to goad him into responding. Because she wants to hear the words back. Because that gives her power.’
A look of disgust crossed Emma’s face. Bizarrely this brought relief. Disgust he could cope with. It was so much easier to deal with than the sight of Emma hurting.
‘I suspect you have had too much time on your hands. Perhaps you have found these last few weeks at Villa Magenta rather boring. Your charity work not enough to occupy you. The novelty of having your every need catered for, every comfort at your disposal wearing off so you have looked around to find something to account for your dissatisfaction. And that something was me.
‘But I will not be blackmailed, Emma. By you or anyone else. I will not be tricked into sharing sentiments I don’t feel, just to make you feel better.’
He paused, the weight of his words swinging like lead between them. Up until now he had managed to avoid the full glare of her eyes, his gaze flitting lightly over her face, knowing there was no safe place to land. But he could avoid them no longer. He had to deal with whatever horror he saw. Because deal with it he would. Quickly and efficiently. A clean kill. It was kinder in the end.
Her silence was total, not as much as a breath stirring the air. But the eyes he finally met were wide, unblinking. And dry. Bone dry. Dead.
Tears he had been expecting. He could have dealt with them. Many a woman had tried to use them as a weapon against him when things hadn’t been going their way, only to find they’d left him completely unmoved. But Emma’s steady stare tore him apart.
‘You have nothing further to say?’ Leo could stand this cruel silence no longer. He had to bring it to an end.
‘No.’ She shook her head, her fingers finding a lock of hair over her shoulder, smoothing it down. ‘I came here looking for honesty to try and make sense of our relationship and find a way forward. And you have given me that honesty. For which I thank you.’
She was thanking him? For being a cold-hearted brute?
‘I will leave you in peace now. I have arrangements to make.’
‘What arrangements?’ His voice growled with suspicion.
‘I am going to go back to the UK. I need some time to sort out my head.’
‘You will do no such thing.’
‘I don’t need your permission, Leo. I am your wife, not your possession.’
‘And as my wife I order you to stay here.’
‘Here, as in Ravenino? The place you were so determined I
should never even visit?’
‘Here, as in Italy. You will return to Villa Magenta.’
‘And what will you do? Have Luigi follow me around again, making sure I don’t escape?’
‘I will put my entire security team onto it if necessary.’ Frustration clawed at his throat. How had it come to this? ‘You are not only my wife but you are carrying my child. I absolutely forbid your returning to England.’
‘You can’t stop me, Leo.’ She tightened her jaw. ‘Unless you intend to physically restrain me, of course. No doubt there is a dungeon around here somewhere you could throw me into.’
Leo seethed with impotent rage. There was. And he was tempted.
‘So what exactly do you intend to do in England? Go back to your family and their squalid little encampment in a muddy field? Start making daisy chains for a living?’
‘No.’
‘Have that delightful mother of yours tell you what a miserable failure you are?’ He was building up a head of steam now, a rush of white noise in his ears. ‘Do you think she will welcome you back, Emma? Or will she be locking away her latest boyfriend for fear you might get your claws into him?’
The flinch of pain that marred Emma’s beautiful face slashed into his soul, hard and deep. But panic drove him on. He would not lose her. He could not lose her.
‘And don’t think for one moment I will let that toxic woman anywhere near my child. I expressly forbid any contact with her. Ever.’
His frantic gaze ran over her body, alive to every small movement. As if she might vanish before his eyes.
‘I will return to London.’ The struggle to hold on to her composure cracked in her voice.
‘To live where, exactly?’
‘I don’t know, Leo.’ A dreadful weariness weighted her words. ‘But I will find somewhere. I have done it before.’
‘For how long?’
‘Two or three months? I need some headspace, time to think things through.’
‘Very well.’ He raked a hand through his hair. He had to assume some sort of control if he was to get through this. ‘But I have two conditions. Firstly, I will be the one to arrange accommodation for you in London. And secondly, you will return to Italy before the baby is born.’
Emma’s pause was mercifully short before she gave a brief nod.
‘I have your word?’
‘Yes, Leo, you have my word.’
‘Because if not...’
‘I said you have my word.’
Leo allowed himself to breathe.
‘In that case I will have the jet put on standby for you. The flight will go via Milan so you can collect your belongings from Villa Magenta.’
He moved back behind the desk, his eyes cast down, his hands shuffling the papers he no longer gave a damn about.
‘I will be in touch in due course.’
He waited for sounds of movement, for Emma to leave, slamming the doors behind her. Or stay...coming towards him to affect some sort of reconciliation. To tell him that she had overreacted. To beat her fists against his chest. To scream at him what a bastard he was. But hearing nothing he flicked his eyes upwards to find her still standing there, her hands clasped under the slight swell of her bump, wide eyes staring at him from beneath that fringe.
Leo swallowed. Goddamn the woman.
‘I will say goodbye, then.’ Her voice was very small.
‘Goodbye, Emma.’ He looked back down at the paperwork.
‘Oh, one more thing.’ With some effort he raised his head again. When was she going to be done torturing him?
‘When I had the scan...they asked if I wanted to know the baby’s sex.’
‘And...?’ Leo felt his heart rate spike dramatically.
‘I said yes.’ Emma held his gaze, strong and blue. ‘It’s a boy, Leo. You are going to have a son.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
EMMA WAITED FOR the pain to kick in, almost welcoming it. Because anything had to be better than this frozen inertia. Like she had been drugged. Anaesthetised. She knew the agony was there, that Leo’s cruel words had ripped her wide open, his reaction more brutal, more merciless than her worst fears. But she couldn’t feel the wounds. Yet. Maybe her poor body was refusing to process them.
But at least she had managed to stand upright in front of Leo. She hadn’t collapsed in a heap of misery. She had remained coherent, conducting herself with decorum in the face of more heartbreak than she had ever thought possible. At least she had walked out of that library with her head held high. Even if she had no idea how she’d done it.
But now the corridor seemed to be closing in on her, the musty smell of the books in the library lingering in her nostrils suddenly making her feel nauseous. She felt for the wall to steady herself. The dimensions of the space seemed to be changing, surging and retreating. Someone was coming towards her, a tall slight figure, gliding rather than walking, surrounded by white light. Emma half closed her eyes.
‘Dio mio!’ The figure had her arm around her shoulders now. Bony but warm, flesh and blood. So she was real, not an apparition. ‘Emma? It is Emma, isn’t it?’
Emma nodded weakly, letting her head rest against the woman’s shoulder.
‘Here, let me help you to a chair.’
A couple of staggering steps took them to a nearby seat.
‘I should send for a doctor?’ The woman crouched down beside her, taking Emma’s hand in hers.
‘No.’ Emma tried to shake her head but it felt as if her brain was loose inside. ‘No, I’ll be fine in a minute.’
‘Is it the baby?’
‘No.’ How did this person know she was pregnant? ‘Well, it does make me feel a bit dizzy sometimes.’ It was such an effort to talk. ‘But, really, it will pass.’
‘Then wait here. I will fetch Leonardo.’
‘No!’ The vehemence in Emma’s voice sent a look of surprise across this woman’s face. She was very beautiful, Emma realised as her senses started to return. Fine-boned, wide dark eyes searched her face. Cordelia. Of course, it had to be. ‘Please don’t tell him.’
‘Well, if you are sure?’ She stood up, her puzzled gaze travelling down the corridor until a member of staff appeared, as if she had conjured him up by thought alone. Rapid instructions were issued before she turned back to Emma. ‘Are you well enough to move into the salon?’
‘Yes, I think so.’ Emma struggled to her feet to prove a strength she was far from feeling. Sandwiched between Cordelia and the servant she was guided into a grand salon and gently lowered onto a gilded sofa.
‘Giovanni will bring you some water. Is there anything else you need?’
‘No, I will be fine now, thank you.’
‘Would you like me to stay with you? I was on my way to visit my husband in hospital but...’
‘No, really, you go.’
She had reached the door before she turned to look back at Emma with an apologetic smile. ‘Forgive me, I didn’t even introduce myself. I am Cordelia. Your sister-in-law.’
‘How do you do?’ Emma gave her a faint smile. ‘And thank you for looking after me. You must think me very feeble.’
‘On the contrary...’ Cordelia’s dark eyes swept over her. ‘You are married to Leonardo. That in itself takes strength and courage. He would never choose a wife who didn’t possess such qualities.’
Emma looked down, swallowing hard.
‘I appreciate that coming back to Ravenino has been very hard for him. Frankly his mood has been quite black. Which is why I am so pleased to see you. I’m sure having you here will be a great comfort to him.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘Don’t underestimate yourself, Emma. He has missed you a great deal.’
‘He...he said that?’
‘Not exactly.’ Cordelia adjusted the handbag over the crook of her arm. ‘Leon
ardo is not a man to voice his emotions. But you forget that I know him. And I know when a woman has finally won his heart. Congratulations, Emma, I hope you will both be very happy.’
* * *
Stepping out onto the balcony, Emma took a lungful of fresh air. Having been fussed over by various members of staff for the past hour, she desperately craved solitude, time to think.
The view, at least, was calming. Sea and sky stretching in all directions, the shape of the mainland just visible on the horizon. A fishing boat headed towards the harbour, excited seagulls squawking in its wake. Everything about this place was so steeped in history and tradition you could feel it in the very air you breathed. A living history that Leo had been written out of.
Emma bit down on the tremble of her lip. How many times must he have stood gazing at this view? How many times must he have visited his beloved Ravenino in his head? And what must it feel like to be back here now? To have everything he had lost tantalisingly placed back in his hands, but only for a short while. Just long enough to rub salt into the wounds.
Leo’s treatment of her couldn’t have been more brutal. But beneath the cruel words, the arrogant authority, had she caught a glimpse of something else? Something that looked like torment. Like he was being pulled in two directions. Like being here was ripping him apart.
Cordelia’s voice sounded in her head. ‘He has missed you a great deal.’ Was that possible? ‘I know when a woman has finally won his heart.’ She was wrong, she had to be. But her words had been enough to make Emma pause. To cancel the flight that had been put on standby for her, at least for today. Because running away no longer seemed like the answer. Staying and fighting did. Fighting for what she believed in. For happiness that could only be found in Leo’s arms, in his bed, in his heart... Fighting for the man that she loved.
