In the Italian's Bed: Bedded for Pleasure, Purchased for Pregnancy / The Italian's Ruthless Baby Bargain / The Italian Count's Defiant Bride. Carol Marinelli

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       CHAPTER TEN

      HE WAS driving way too fast.

      For such a dangerous bend of road, Zarios should be crawling along, but instead he took each curve at breakneck speed, taking his hands off the wheel to fiddle with the radio station. Emma shrank back into the passenger seat, trying to tell herself that he did this every day, that he knew every last turn on the cliff road. She knew that every sharp breath she took just incensed him further, only she couldn’t stop herself.

      ‘You drive, then.’ Zarios slammed on the brakes so violently that the car screeched to a halt. ‘If you think you can do so much better…’ He held his hands up in a supremely Latin gesture then climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him, leaving Emma to take the wheel.

      She could do this.

      Glancing in the rearview mirror, checking the twins were safely strapped in, Emma gave Harriet and Conner a reassuring smile. ‘We’ll be there soon.’ They didn’t answer, just blinked back at her, their eyes huge and trusting.

      She could do this, Emma told herself again, then gently pressed her foot on the accelerator—only Zarios’s car was way more powerful than her own, and she might just as well have stood on the pedal, because the car was lurching forward, shooting like a bullet from a gun, and there was nothing she could do. Her foot was jammed on the pedal as they shot over the edge and the salty ocean seemed to rise to claim them. The twins were screaming in terror and there was the sound of a baby crying, too. Emma attempted the same, only her voice was frozen within her, the building scream unable to get out…

      ‘Emma.’

      As she sat bolt-upright, dragging in air, she felt his arms wrap around her, his deep voice reassuring her, telling her again, as he had these past nights over and over, that she was safe.

      ‘You’re dreaming.’ He pulled her back beside him, wrapped himself around her and stroked her arm. ‘It’s just a dream; you’re safe, go back to sleep.’

      Except she couldn’t.

      She hadn’t seen him since their strained meeting in his office, hadn’t even been aware of him climbing in bed beside her, but she was infinitely grateful that he was there. Her body trembled in the darkness as she wished that he would touch her, make love to her, take her away from her desperate thoughts for just a little while. But he’d been as good as his word and hadn’t pressured her.

      Even if sometimes she wished he would.

      ‘You should see a doctor.’ It was the first time they’d discussed her nightmares—the first time he’d done anything other than hold her.

      ‘I don’t want to take tablets.’

      ‘Maybe just for a week or two,’ Zarios pushed. ‘You’re pale, you’re exhausted—please, just go to the doctor and tell him you’re not sleeping.’

      ‘I’ll think about it.’

      Her heart was slowing down now, her breathing settling, and he lay spooned behind her, held her till he was sure that she was asleep, his fingers coiling and then releasing a strand of her hair. He was resisting the urge to bury his head in it, or to wake her and demand that she stop wasting her life.

      It was none of his business, Zarios reminded himself.

      Whatever mess she was in—well, it was hers. In a little less than a week they would both walk away and never have to see each other again.

      It killed him to even think about it.

      He held her fragile frame against his, wanted to wrap himself like a shield around her and discount everything he had learnt today.

      What had that counsellor on the helpline he had rung said?

      That addicts were cunning and manipulative…Zarios’s eyes were shuttered for a moment. He found it so easy to discount the brutal summing-up, when he was holding her in his arms.

      He had been told that she first had to admit to the problem before Zarios could do anything to help.

      ‘Emma?’ She stirred into semi-wakefulness as he rolled onto his side and stared down at her. ‘Nothing’s ever too big that you can’t tell me.’

      He smiled as her groggy eyes tried to focus on his.

      ‘If there’s something worrying you it’s better to face it.’

      ‘I know,’ she mumbled.

      ‘And,’ Zarios ventured on, ‘if I can do anything to help, I will.’

      ‘Even after this morning?’ Her sleepy voice begged.

      ‘Especially after this morning. Emma.’ He was playing with her hair again, but this time it was her fringe, pushing it out of her eyes, feeling the damp stream of tears on her cheeks. He’d have given anything to lower his head and kiss her—would at that moment have given anything for her…

      Which was the reason he didn’t.

      Pressure from any quarter, according to the counsellor, was the very last thing she needed.