CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
T HE MARKET WAS depressingly quiet. Or, at least, Kelly’s section was. In fact, she’d had a total of two customers all day and only one of those had bought something. Most people were congregated on the nearby stalls, filling their bags with vegetables which had just been reduced in price, because they were closing soon. Or buying the few remaining burgers, which made the air smell thick with fried onions.
And it was cold.
Unseasonably cold. The pale sun glinted on the metal jewellery as she carefully packed it away in her rucksack and totted up the day’s miserable takings. As she unlocked her bicycle, Kelly shivered, wondering how much longer she could keep going with the belief that one day this was going to become a business capable of supporting her. Because markets like these were a place where people built dreams and, more often than not, those dreams didn’t survive. Would she become like all those other hopefuls who’d had them crushed—her features growing sharp and disillusioned and her eyes bitter? How long before she accepted life on life’s terms and became a full-time waitress, or retrained to work in an office?
And hadn’t her general disillusionment been compounded by the fact that her heart was aching so badly, even if she did manage to hide it behind her bright market smile? No matter how many times she tried to convince herself that a brief sexual fling shouldn’t hurt like this, it didn’t actually change anything. The pain of missing Romano was physical. She kept expecting to wake up one morning without that awful sinking feeling and the bitter realisation that he was no longer in her life. But so far it hadn’t happened. Was that because he had affected her on so many levels? She had thought she was having his baby and, even in the midst of all that worry, hadn’t her heart wanted that, even though her head told her it would have been a disaster?
The only bright light on the horizon was having paid off her debts with the money she’d earned from cleaning his castle. She’d been slightly taken aback by the amount which had been transferred into her bank account from Castelliari Industries and pride had made her want to question whether he’d paid her too much. But then she imagined how that particular conversation might have gone. No doubt the arrogant billionaire would have accused her of using the call as an excuse to speak to him again. As if she wanted to!
Liar, liar.
Of course she wanted to. She wanted him every minute of every day. And night.
But she needed to stop playing back the tape of their brief relationship because it was over and she was just going to have to get used to it. It had been six long weeks since she’d left Tuscany and she hadn’t heard a thing from him, and although deep down she knew there was no reason to hear from him, that didn’t stop it from hurting. How easily he had forgotten her.
Removing her heavy apron, she stuffed it in her rucksack and was about to get on her bike when she heard someone saying her name and her throat dried at the sound of a horribly familiar voice.
Horrible?
Who was she kidding?
It was a voice of velvet and steel, which was doing dangerous things to her blood pressure. But it couldn’t be his voice. Not Romano’s. Not here and definitely not now, on a cold April day in England. Had she been thinking about him so much that she’d made herself believe she’d magicked him up, like a schoolgirl with a crush on a popstar? Heart crashing, she lifted her head.
No, not magic at all.
Or maybe it was. How could it be anything else when he seemed to look more alive than anyone else around him? Somehow he managed to stamp his presence indelibly on whichever landscape he was inhabiting with his powerful body, jet-dark hair and the glittering ebony of his eyes. And here, against a faded and cold English backdrop, he appeared even more vibrant than usual.
‘Romano,’ she said faintly, trying to get her head around the fact that he was standing at her market stall, attracting a lot of attention from everyone in the vicinity, especially the women. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Why do you think I am here?’ He raised his dark brows. ‘You think I wish to buy some earrings?’
‘Why would you do that, when we both know you turn your nose up at silver in favour of your precious diamonds?’ she sniped. ‘Anyway, you’re too late. I’ve packed away for the day.’
‘So I see.’ He held her gaze with a steady stare which seemed to burn right through her skin. ‘I wish to talk to you.’
She tried to stay calm but it was difficult not to react to his shimmering sex appeal, which was making her want to burrow her hands underneath that soft navy jacket and massage the hard flesh beneath. But she was vulnerable around him and she needed to protect herself. The time for make-believe was over. This was reality.
‘What about?’ she demanded baldly. ‘I thought we’d said everything there was to say.’
‘Not here,’ he said with a formidable clench of his jaw. ‘In private.’
Kelly opened her mouth to tell him not anywhere, but then she shut it again. Because of course she was curious to know why he’d turned up like this. Perhaps he was so impressed with her work that he was going to offer her a permanent cleaning position at his Tuscan retreat! Keeping her expression neutral, she nodded, determined to make it clear which of them was in charge.
And it wasn’t him.
‘If you insist,’ she said coolly.
He narrowed his eyes, but not before she had seen the glint of surprise sparking in their ebony depths, as if her response had surprised him. ‘So, where?’
This was her opportunity. She could suggest the new Italian restaurant where she’d managed to find herself a job, because she would pay good money to see his appalled reaction when he spotted pineapple pizza on the menu. Or she could show him some of the nicer bits of Granchester, to illustrate that you didn’t have to live in a castle or a multimillion-pound apartment to enjoy beautiful surroundings. The park, say…where the spring flowers currently bursting into bright bloom made it resemble the set of a Hollywood musical.
And suddenly Kelly realised she was in danger. Real, emotional danger. Flowers? Musicals? What was she thinking? That he would start whirling her round the bandstand and crooning in her ear? Why not let him see her as she was? As she really was, without all the Cinderella trappings he’d insisted on lavishing on her. Because surely if she reinforced the differences between them it would kill off this thing between them once and for all. And she needed that. For her own peace of mind, she needed that.
‘You can come to my flat,’ she said. ‘Do you want to write down the address?’
‘I know the address.’
Of course he did. Yet another demonstration of the true reach of his influence. A man with all the facts at his fingertips and all he had to do was to snap them and someone would come running. Well, not me, she thought fiercely. Not me.
‘I can give you a lift,’ he added, with a glance at the nearby side road, and for the first time Kelly noticed the pale blue racing car with the scarlet trim, which was attracting the attention of a cluster of teenage boys. As a symbol of his wealth and power, it was quite something, but all she could think about was that hideous uniform she’d been forced to wear.
She gave him a tight smile and pointed to her sturdy old bike. ‘I’ll make my own way, thank you.’
Her home was much smaller than he had imagined and that was saying something. Romano’s body tensed. He was a man who considered himself worldly but he couldn’t deny being unfamiliar with material poverty. The exterior of the apartment block was tired, with peeling paint in the communal areas, and it was situated in a decidedly insalubrious part of the city. Jamming his thumb on the bell, he waited, and didn’t part of him wonder whether she would refuse to answer?
And then what?
Suddenly the door opened and there stood Kelly and the air felt as if it had been punched from his lungs. He had thought she might change—that she would have replaced her working clothes for something more feminine and flattering. But no. The thin overcoat and fingerless gloves had been removed, but the sturdy jeans and sweater remained. Her green eyes were narrowed at him with undisguised suspicion and there was a mulish tilt to her chin as she studied him.
‘Well?’
‘You wish to leave me standing on the doorstep, Kelly?’
‘I don’t think you’d really like to hear what I wish,’ she answered ominously, before pulling open the door and stepping back. ‘I suppose you’d better come in.’
He bent his head as he stepped inside, for the walls of the tiny apartment seemed to shrink and envelop him. But on closer inspection, the interior was surprisingly clean and bright, and strategically placed mirrors seemed to double the space and available light. There were sprigs of greenery in a rustic pottery vase and vivid paintings on the walls, the landscape of one which he vaguely recognised. And the room felt like something he didn’t recognise.
It felt like home.
He waited for her to speak. To demand to know why he was there, her voice possibly trembling with hope and expectation, but she said nothing. Just looked at him calmly, through the half shuttering of long lashes, which didn’t quite conceal the flicker of disquiet in her eyes. He thought of all the things he could say. The diplomatic words he could weave which would have the required effect of bringing her from across the room and into his arms.
But suddenly Romano realised such half-heartedness would get him precisely nowhere. That, more than anything, he owed her the truth. Because Kelly Butler was different from other women. She always had been. She would not be short-changed. She was proud and strong and fearless. Wasn’t that one of the reasons which made him…?
‘I miss you,’ he said simply.
‘Miss me?’ she questioned sharply. ‘Or mistrust me?’
‘That feeling has faded,’ he admitted huskily. ‘And I understand why you kept your pregnancy fears hidden.’ He expelled a heavy breath. ‘Why would you confide in me when I could be so damned unforgiving?’
Still she didn’t say anything, though her lashes opened a fraction further.
‘I miss you like hell,’ he growled. ‘I didn’t think I would. I kept telling myself you were nothing to me. That you’d been a thorn in my side for longer than I could remember. But nothing I did or said or thought could kill my desire for you, Kelly. It didn’t matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, it changed nothing. I wanted you more than any other woman. I still do. I can’t stop wanting you, in every way,’ he declared huskily, and this definitely should have provoked a reaction—preferably the kind which would have her smothering him with grateful kisses, which would mean he didn’t have to say anything more.
But she didn’t move or utter a single word and, eventually, Romano gave a ragged sigh of capitulation.
‘When we had sex,’ he said, ‘I thought that would be the beginning of the end—’
‘Wow.’ Her eyes dazzled him with their emerald light. ‘Is that how you regard all your liaisons, Romano?’
‘Yes,’ he answered frankly. ‘Because that is what happens. I want something until I don’t. I get bored. Restless. Just not with you. I have wanted you since the moment I first saw you, even when you were forbidden to me. But in you I saw danger.’
‘Danger?’
‘Sì.’ He paused. ‘Because you bring out a side of me I never knew existed.’
‘Which side is that?’ she questioned, her voice low.
How much did she want from him? he wondered impatiently. Wouldn’t she be satisfied until she had wrung every last emotion from his body? More importantly, was he going to let her get away with that?
But he had no choice. If he wanted her, it had to be on her terms. No. Their terms. It had to be honest, right from the get-go. He had to be honest. He could see that now.
‘It was safer not to feel. Not to attach to anyone. Never to…love anyone, because I didn’t know how. Nobody had ever shown me the way,’ he admitted heavily, acknowledging the bitter truth for the first time in his life. ‘Even my father found it hard to love me because I looked so much like my mother. That’s why I hung onto the castello , even though I didn’t want to live there. Because he had left it to me in his will and to pass it on to someone else felt like a betrayal of that gift.’ His stupid voice was breaking and suddenly her self-imposed exile seemed to be at an end for she was crossing the room and putting her arms around his neck and reaching up on tiptoes so she could stare into his face.
‘Deep down, I knew that,’ she whispered, her breath warm against his lips. ‘How could you ever trust your feelings—or anyone else’s—after the kind of beginning you had? You saw things no child should ever have to see, Romano, and you learned that the only way you could survive was by protecting yourself. By building walls around yourself and keeping everything which made you vulnerable locked away inside. Once you let me get to know you a little better, I could see that so clearly. Occasionally, I saw a glimpse of the man I knew existed behind all those high walls. Who was thoughtful and funny and clever. And I…’
Romano waited as she hesitated in that way she had, of seeming to think carefully about her words before she said them—only this time they came bursting from her lips like a torrent of sweet petals.
‘I admired that man,’ she breathed. ‘I applauded the way you came through all that tumult to survive. But I couldn’t tell you, or show you—because you’d told me not to. In fact, keeping my emotions out of it was one of your stipulations for continuing our liaison. I thought you were being cruel and controlling. It was only as I got to know you better that I realised you were simply being careful.’
‘But not any more!’ he declared urgently. ‘I behaved badly. I shouldn’t have insisted you wear those damned diamonds, I should have let you wear what the hell you pleased, because you are you, and it is you that I love. I love you, Kelly Butler. That’s…that’s all.’
‘No, that’s not all, because I have some things you need to hear, too,’ she whispered, her fingertip tracing the curve of his lips. ‘You need to know that mistrusting you was a way of protecting myself, because I was terrified of falling in love with you and getting my heart broken—fulfilling all my mother’s dire predictions about men. But she was wrong, and I’m not frightened any more. I’m free to tell you that I love you, Romano. I always have and I always will.’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘I just can’t seem to help myself.’
Romano made a choking sound as, tangling his trembling hands in the thick mane of her hair, he drove his mouth on hers—in a kiss of passion and possession he would remember for the rest of his life. He thought about asking her where the bedroom was, though the place was so small he could probably work it out for himself.
And he didn’t want to wait, or delay.
He couldn’t.
He was pulling off her clothes with an exhilaration and urgency which made him feel about nineteen and she was tugging at his shirt with equal zeal. His jeans only made it as far as his ankles and so did hers, their flesh warm and giving where they touched, and he gave a groan of feral bliss as he pushed inside her tight, wet heat.
‘Porca miseria!’ he choked out helplessly.
It was over very quickly.
‘Too fast,’ he murmured.
‘Maybe we could do it more slowly next time.’ Snuggling up to him, Kelly yawned, thinking that she’d never been lying half naked on her sitting room carpet with a man before and she was rather enjoying this very different perspective of her apartment.
For a while she stayed there, holding him close and savouring the moment while thinking that life had never felt quite so perfect as it did now. She stroked a stray strand of thick ebony hair away from his forehead.
‘So what kept you?’ she murmured.
‘Hmm?’ He turned a little.
‘Have you only just decided you couldn’t live without me? It’s been six weeks, you know.’
‘Have you been counting?’ he teased.
‘Trying not to,’ she admitted.
He sighed. ‘I had things I needed to do before I came to you.’
‘Things like?’
‘I’ve been to France to stay with my nephew and niece. To get to know them a bit better, as you suggested to me so very vehemently, la mia cara .’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Flo didn’t say anything to me.’
‘I asked her not to.’
‘Right.’ For some reason this pleased her, that for once Romano was enjoying his sister’s confidence instead of her. Because that was the way it should be. She stroked his chest with the tip of her finger. ‘What else have you been doing?’
‘Signing the castle over to Floriana and her family.’
‘Gosh. And won’t you mind…letting go?’
He shrugged. ‘Not really. The proprietorial side of my character felt a fleeting sorrow, naturalmente . But you were right. I don’t want to live there permanently and I assume you don’t really want to either?’
Kelly held her breath at the potential significance of this question, but she certainly wasn’t going to be pushy . ‘I don’t care where we live,’ she told him truthfully.
But he didn’t appear to be listening. He was looking at the wall. At the painting she’d done just before she’d gone to art school when he’d cruelly rejected her suggestion of going on a date. Now it seemed that her romantism and disappointment had been apparent—showing in every fine brushstroke of the picture, making the flowers seem especially bright and the sky so darkly sombre. It was a painting of hope and despair, she realised—only now all that despair had melted away.
‘That’s a painting of the school,’ he said slowly.
‘It is. A view of the summer house near the tennis courts,’ she said, meeting the question in his eyes. ‘During the school holidays we always stayed put. We couldn’t afford to go on holiday and my mum got paid extra for being on the premises, which sometimes made me feel like I never got away from the place. But I was allowed full use of the art department and that was brilliant.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.’
‘Because I want to know. I want to know everything about you, la mia cara , and I intend to spend the rest of my life finding out.’ He picked up her hand and kissed each finger in turn, his gaze not leaving her face. ‘So will you marry me, Kelly? As soon as possible?’
‘Will I marry you?’ She laughed with sheer and exultant joy. ‘Hell, yes.’
Had she thought that life couldn’t get any more perfect?
It was just about to.