CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
K ELLY TOOK A sip of coffee, although it was difficult to focus on the heady brew when her attention was completely dominated by the sight of Romano reading the newspaper on the other side of the breakfast bar. Did he sense that she was watching him and was that why a speculative smile was curving his lips?
She took another sip, trying to calm the clamour of her senses and to quash that annoying little spark of hope which never seemed to go away.
Last night he had been different. He’d held her hand in public and silently handed her a pristine handkerchief when the tears had poured down her cheeks at the end of Tosca , reassuring her that, although he loathed tears, crying at the opera was the exception to the rule. She had sniffed and giggled at this and he had kissed her passionately in the back of the limousine on the way home and in that moment she had felt very safe and wanted and protected.
But that was just wishful thinking. That was what she needed to remember. It didn’t mean anything, she told herself fiercely. It was simply another illustration of his mercurial nature and she needed to be constantly aware of how dangerous that could be if she started misinterpreting it and mistaking it for growing affection. She started speaking—mostly to steer her thoughts away from their current pointless path. ‘I didn’t quite catch the name of that man we met at the opera last night.’
‘Silvano di Saccucci. He’s a very famous car manufacturer,’ he supplied in answer to her raised eyebrows, as he lowered his newspaper. ‘Who seemed to like you,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘A lot.’
‘Well, I liked him, too. He was really sweet.’ Initially, Kelly had been nervous when they had been invited into the old man’s box, but the octogenarian had quickly put her at her ease, although she had refused the flute of chilled champagne which someone had tried to press into her hand.
‘And what were the two of you talking about so intently?’ Romano enquired curiously.
‘Oh, he was asking me lots of questions. How long I’d known you. How we’d met. Stuff like that.’ She put her cup down. ‘But then he said something a bit odd.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’
‘Mmm. He told me I wasn’t like your usual girlfriends.’ She pulled a face. ‘Which obviously, I knew. But it was a little bit personal, considering we’d only just met.’
‘Maybe it was your sunny disposition which invited his confidence,’ he suggested carelessly. ‘What did you say in response?’
‘I told him that I could hardly believe my luck to be dating a man like you and that every night I said a quiet prayer of gratitude.’
He frowned. ‘You are joking?’
‘Of course I’m joking!’ She slanted him a smile. ‘I said you could be a real pussycat at times, even when you were trying very hard not to be.’
There was a pause. ‘Are you trying to ruin my reputation, Kelly?’ he taunted softly.
‘Or improve it?’ She tilted her head. ‘Your phone’s vibrating, by the way.’
He glanced down at the screen, raising his dark eyebrows in surprise. ‘Speak of the devil,’ he murmured, clicking to connect the call. ‘Pronto, Silvano,’ he said. ‘Come va?’
Kelly watched as the billionaire rose to his feet and began to pace around the vast kitchen, speaking to the old man in fluent Italian, so she didn’t have a clue what he was saying. But at least the conversation gave her a moment’s breathing space. Time to reflect on what was happening. Or rather, what wasn’t happening. She needed to focus on the difference between fantasy and reality.
On the table lay the yummy remains of the fresh bread, which had been delivered barely an hour ago. Beside them stood a jug of coffee as dark as treacle and a dish of iced pineapple, which Romano had deftly sliced himself—and all this against a backdrop of Turin, which looked as pretty as a picture postcard. The situation felt intimate and yet weirdly normal and at times it almost felt real. Like a real relationship. But it wasn’t, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could carry on pretending everything was okay, when everything most definitely wasn’t okay.
She almost wished he would start being mean to her again, the way he’d done in the past, because that way she could manufacture a row—allowing her to blurt out the awful truth and then deal with his reaction. But he wasn’t being mean. On the contrary. This morning, he was being unbearably thoughtful and his exemplary behaviour was adding a big dollop of guilt to the already uncomfortable mix of her emotions.
Romano was ending the call and she could see an expression of unexpected delight lightening his carved features as he put the phone down. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said slowly.
‘Good news?’
‘You could say that,’ he agreed, shaking his dark head in disbelief. ‘Silvano is willing to go through with the sale after all.’ He must have seen her look of confusion, because he started to explain. ‘It’s a deal I was trying to broker with him before the christening. An iconic car factory I’ve been chasing since for ever, but he refused to sell it to me, even though I offered him a price which I doubt anybody else could match.’
‘So what do you think swung it?’ She blinked. ‘The money?’
‘No, not the money.’
‘What, then?’
He hesitated for a moment and then walked towards her, pulling her off the bar stool and into his arms, and instantly she was enclosed in the warm power of his embrace. ‘You did,’ he said softly, nuzzling her lips with his own. ‘You swung it.’
She pulled back a little and blinked. ‘Me?’
‘Mmm.’ He was busy exploring her neck with his mouth and Kelly was having to concentrate very hard not to let her eyes flutter to a close and give into his lovemaking, but she mustn’t. She really mustn’t.
‘Why should it have anything to do with me?’ she questioned weakly.
At this, he drew away from her, his black eyes as watchful as she’d ever seen them, his ebony stare underpinned with an element of calculation. ‘If I answer that question, will you answer one of mine in return, Kelly?’ There was a pause. ‘And answer it honestly?’
Kelly’s heart started thudding and she couldn’t decide whether it was through fear or excitement. Was he implying that sometimes she was dishonest? And didn’t he have a point—even though at the moment he was unaware of it? ‘Sure.’
He nodded. ‘Silvano didn’t want to sell to me because he didn’t approve of me, or my supposed playboy lifestyle. He’s a very old-fashioned man whose wife and only son were tragically killed in a car crash, so he had nobody to leave his company to. Maybe it was that which made him determined to sell to a family man—one with traditional values, much like his own. And I definitely didn’t fit that category.’
Kelly licked her dry lips. ‘So what has all this got to do with me?’
‘He thinks I’m a changed man.’ There was a pause. ‘And that my relationship with you is different.’
‘Different?’ she questioned weakly.
‘Mmm. He seems to imagine that I have radically altered my playboy philosophy.’ His black eyes were glinting out a mocking challenge. ‘And that I should make you my wife.’
‘Did he? Well, obviously that’s not going to happen.’ Did that sound convincing enough? she wondered. She pulled away from him and took a step towards the breakfast bar, needing to put some distance between them. Because she still hadn’t heard what he wanted to ask and that was making her feel scared. She cleared her throat. ‘Now it’s your turn. You wanted to ask me something, didn’t you?’
He frowned, as if taken aback by her words. He probably couldn’t believe she’d steered the conversation away from the subject of marriage, which presumably would have had most women gagging to hear what he’d said in response to the elderly tycoon. In any other circumstances Kelly might have been among their number. But not now. Because the giant elephant in the room was threatening to trample over everything and yet Romano didn’t even know it existed.
‘It’s just that sometimes you look as if all the cares of the world are weighing down on your shoulders,’ he said softly. ‘Why is that?’
Kelly swallowed. ‘Is that what I do?’ she prevaricated, her voice cracking a little.
‘ Sì. Especially when you think nobody is watching.’
His voice was gentle as she’d ever heard it but that was misleading. Thank God she had stepped away from him and could grip the kitchen counter with fingers which suddenly felt boneless. Because now she felt like the biggest fool in the world. Worse than a fool. What had she thought he was going to ask her?
To spend longer here with him?
Or had she thought he was going to take the elderly Italian’s advice and ask her to marry him?
Afterwards she would regret the way she said it—her unfounded disappointment colouring her delivery and making her words unnecessarily clumsy. ‘My period’s late,’ she stated baldly.
For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her, because he didn’t say a word. But then she saw she’d made another major miscalculation because his powerful body had stilled, like a wild predator disturbed by an unexpected crash in the jungle. And when he spoke it was in a tone she’d never heard him use before, not even when he’d been at his most disapproving—clipping each syllable out as though they had been fashioned from unyielding chips of marble. ‘How long have you known?’
‘I don’t actually know anything yet. I haven’t done a test and—’
‘How long?’ he cut in.
‘When we were at the castello —’
‘You mean you’ve known all this time?’ he demanded. ‘All the time you’ve been here? You must have thought about it at least a hundred times a day.’ He shook his head incredulously. ‘And yet still you said nothing?’
There was genuine appeal in her voice. ‘How could I?’
‘It’s quite simple, Kelly,’ he answered cuttingly. ‘You just open your lips and the words come out—the same ones you’ve just used. I’m not asking for a definitive answer but at least you could have done me the courtesy of sharing your fears.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Though why should I imagine you would behave in a manner which could in any way be considered honourable? You’re a woman, aren’t you, who learnt to lie and deceive from the moment you first opened those big green eyes?’
The world tilted. His contempt was tangible and Kelly’s throat felt as if someone were pressing all the air from it. ‘How could I have forgotten what a cynic you are?’ she breathed.
‘Not a cynic, cara . Let’s just call it dealing in facts, shall we? But I’m curious,’ he added, his voice growing steadier now and somehow this new and icy calm was as intimidating as anything which had come before.
‘What did you think would happen, by not telling me?’ he mused. ‘That I would grow to find you indispensable? That all this time alone with me would allow you to showcase your many charms and enable you to seduce me—’
‘I thought we’d already done that bit!’
‘I’m not talking about sex!’ he bit out. ‘I’m talking about trying to worm your way into my life by showing me that domesticity isn’t necessarily a thing to be avoided.’
‘Wow. I’ve never been compared to a worm before—but I’ve certainly thought it about a few men in my time and I’m looking at one right now!’ she countered furiously. ‘And this isn’t real domesticity, Romano—not with unseen servants drifting in and out, catering to your every need. It’s all make-believe. In fact, nothing about your life is real. You don’t have real relationships—not with your family, nor with your lovers. Everyone you deal with forms part of some sort of transaction , don’t they?’
They stared at one another, both dragging in furious breaths. Suddenly he grabbed his phone and stormed out of the kitchen, and she could hear him getting his coat from the hallway before slamming his way out of the apartment.
She waited until she was certain he’d gone, until the vast apartment was completely silent, and then Kelly stumbled into the sitting room, her knees giving way as she flopped onto one of the giant grey leather sofas. She wanted to rage and howl and hurl some of the fancy velvet cushions against the walls, but she didn’t dare risk damaging any of the priceless artwork and, besides, what was the point? Who was she most angry with—him, or herself?
Why hadn’t she told him before?
She knew why.
Deep down wasn’t she just as guilty of playing make-believe as Romano? She’d wanted to hold onto what they had, without reality intruding. To carry on pretending this was a real relationship, instead of something calculated and temporary. But that was always going to be a doomed venture—like trying to preserve a bubble and prevent it from bursting.
So now what?
She looked around, knowing she couldn’t stay here, wondering whether she should just pack her bag and get a bus to the airport. She didn’t want to be seen to be running away, but what was the alternative? Meekly waiting for the angry tycoon to return home and hoping he would offer her a lift in his fancy limousine? Why, she’d rather walk barefoot to the airport than have to throw herself on his mercy.
Slowly, she made her way to the bedroom, the unmade bed testament to the passionate night they’d spent together, and Kelly despaired at the futile clench of her heart and the fact that her anger had been replaced by a sudden terrible sadness. Because, in the end, sex counted for very little, didn’t it? It might be a very enjoyable exercise, but unless there was some sort of shared emotion it meant about as much as going for a run in the park. She had been the one to read too much into it, who had silently nurtured her own hopes along the way. Had she thought she could help heal Romano’s wounded heart through intimacy? Did she think she was any different from all those other women who must have tried before? Her! Market trader Kelly Butler without a penny to her name.
Didn’t matter now anyway.
Retrieving her small suitcase from the giant wardrobe, she began to pull out the few clothes she’d brought with her. Into her suitcase went the plain underwear and the handmade silver jewellery he hadn’t wanted her to wear to his fancy function. Next, the functional jeans and ‘best’ dress. As for the rest of them—the silks and satins, the cashmere and the wretched diamond earrings—they could all stay here, for they had no place in her life back in England.
Lastly, she peeled off Romano’s oversized shirt—replacing it with the clothes she’d originally travelled in. But it was only when she was bending over to zip up her case that she felt the first low tug deep in her belly and crammed her fist in her mouth to silence her involuntary gasp of pain.
It was quiet in the apartment when Romano let himself in and for a moment he wondered if Kelly had gone.
His brow furrowed.
Had she?
But his intended search halted at only the second room because there she was, standing in the smallest reception room and staring out of the window, her shoulders hunched. She turned as he entered and something about her expression set his senses on edge, because this was a version of Kelly Butler he didn’t recognise. Not just because her features were so pinched, but because her eyes were shuttered and wary. She looked…lost…
A sudden flicker of conscience began licking at his heart but he blocked it ruthlessly, for he never allowed himself to feel regret. Or pain. Been there. Done that.
Unbuttoning his cashmere coat, he withdrew a paper package from the inside pocket. ‘Here,’ he said gruffly and placed it on the black marble coffee table.
She stared at it uncomprehendingly. ‘What is it?’
He supposed he could have made a clipped suggestion that she open it to find out but her appearance was so fragile that he couldn’t contemplate such an offhand response. ‘A pregnancy test,’ he said, the words sounding thick against his tongue.
He hadn’t been expecting her to laugh until he registered that no humour was involved in the sound she made. ‘I don’t need one,’ she said dully.
‘What do you mean?’
Another laugh, only this time even more hollow. ‘Oh, come on, Romano—I appreciate that you’re operating out of your comfort zone here, but surely you did enough biology at school to realise that I don’t need one because my period has come.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m not pregnant. Okay? You’re safe.’
His mind was swirling with so many thoughts that it took a while before her words made any sense, but there was no answering rush of relief. He felt… He shook his head and glared at her as, unexpectedly, his heart clenched.
He didn’t know what he felt.
‘Obviously I would like to go back to England as soon as possible,’ she continued woodenly. ‘I’ve had a look at flights and I should easily be able to make the four o’clock. And no—before you offer—I don’t want to go home on your private jet. Though I would appreciate a lift to the airport because I don’t really know my way around Turin’s public transport system. And I would like to go alone.’ She forced a smile. ‘I think that would be better for both of us—well, certainly for me—if we went our separate ways as soon as possible.’
He shrugged, his gaze briefly flickering to the green cross on the front of the pharmacy bag before lifting his eyes to hers. ‘If that’s what you want,’ he said.
‘That’s what I want.’
She was staring at him and it seemed strange to have her so close and yet not have her close to him. And she was chewing on her lip, like somebody in an examination hall. As if she were deciding whether or not to speak and then she nodded, bright curls rippling down her back as she obviously came to a decision.
‘Would you answer me one question before I go, Romano? As honestly as I answered yours?’
Only one? he wondered as he looked at her enquiringly. ‘If I can.’ And in an odd kind of way this request reassured him, because now he was on familiar territory.
Did you ever love me, Romano? Will you miss me—even a bit?
But, as usual, Kelly Butler defied his predictions.
‘Did you deliberately take me to the opera,’ she said slowly, ‘knowing Silvano di Saccucci would be there?’
‘Scusi?’ He frowned. ‘Why on earth would I do that?’
She shrugged. ‘To play the part of a man completely captivated by his new girlfriend. Because you gave a wonderful performance, I must say. You weren’t behaving like a playboy at all.’ She was biting the words out as if she had rehearsed them. ‘Even I was a little taken aback by all the hand-holding and the way you gave my tears your unexpected seal of approval. In fact, it was a display so convincing that Silvano actually suggested you marry me. Which meant you’d hit the jackpot, didn’t it? He had tacitly approved you as a potential family man and actually rang up the very next morning and offered to sell you his business. Bingo! Result!’
The accusation took his breath away. It hung between them like a spider’s web—almost invisible to the naked eye but strong enough to capture every toxic fear and suspicion and leave them dangling there. ‘You really think that of me, Kelly?’ he breathed. ‘That I am capable of such deceit and manipulation?’
‘Well, why wouldn’t I?’ she countered quietly. ‘Because isn’t that exactly what you think about me?’
For a while there was silence, broken only by the sounds of their breathing as they surveyed each other from opposite sides of the room, like two prize-fighters in a cage.
‘What an exquisite irony it is to share such a compatibility as this,’ he said at last. ‘To be so equally balanced in our mutual mistrust of one another. And yet what unites us ultimately destroys us, doesn’t it, Kelly?’ He gave a bitter laugh as he turned away. ‘I’ll phone for my driver.’