The Platinum Collection. Maisey Yates

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СКАЧАТЬ married to me now, cara. I don’t think it’s unreasonable of me to expect an answer to something so basic.’

      ‘When you have the right to ask me private questions, I’ll let you know,’ Lizzie slung back flatly, snaking out of the far side of the bed to avoid him and yanking the sheet free of the mattress with a violent jerk to wrap it round her body. ‘Now, I’m going for a bath.’

      ‘Lizzie...’ Cesare ground out in frustration to her rigid back as she reached for the door of the en suite.

      ‘I’m not feeling nice, wifely or the slightest bit chatty right now, so please excuse me,’ Lizzie breathed icily and stepped into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her within seconds.

      Lizzie filled the glorious antique bath to the brim, filled it with bubbles and lowered her body into the warm water. Angry, Cesare could be incredibly intimidating, towering over her, dark eyes glowing with hostility in his lean dark face. She couldn’t help that her first reaction to an angry man was to run to the nearest place of safety. Her mother’s violent second husband had taught her to get herself and Chrissie out of harm’s way fast.

      But Lizzie refused to be intimidated by Cesare, whom she sensed would never be violent. What did he have to be so angry about? Hadn’t their lovemaking been good for him? It had certainly been good for her, apart from the hiccup as such in the middle when she had discovered that her first experience of intimacy could actually be painful. Ironically she was more hurt by Cesare’s withdrawal and grim mood in the aftermath, which had made her feel—all over again—inadequate. Why couldn’t he have simply let the subject go? Had he no sensitivity? Couldn’t he see that she didn’t want to talk about it?

      Cesare paced the bedroom in fierce frustration. Why hadn’t she warned him? Had she been embarrassed about being untouched? He recalled the blushing and gritted his teeth, acknowledging that he was totally unfit to deal with sexual innocence when he had failed to recognise it even though it was right there in front of him. He had screwed up, screwed up even worse when he sprang an immediate interrogation on her.

      This was not how he had pictured their marriage kicking off. She was all emotional now, very probably weeping in the bath and regretting their new agreement while wishing she had never laid eyes on him. And yet the sex had been amazing...so amazing he couldn’t wait to repeat it. Galvanised into motion by that shameless motivation, Cesare threw on a disreputable pair of jeans and padded downstairs, pondering possibilities to redeem himself in his offended bride’s eyes. Before he even got that far he heard the distant howls of Archie marooned in an outside kennel and he grinned at the sound. He was a very clever man and he would turn the wedding-night breakdown back into a honeymoon regardless of what sacrifices it demanded of him!

      Archie broke off his cries mid-howl and pranced towards him on three little legs. Archie was not particularly attached to Cesare but he recognised him as a potential lead to his mistress...

CHAPTER SEVEN

      ARCHIE WHIMPERED OUTSIDE the bathroom door.

      ‘You know you can do better than that,’ Cesare told him, tossing him a fragment of chicken from one of the plates on the table by the bed.

      For a three-legged dog, Archie could move fast and he caught the scrap in mid-air.

      ‘Now...you have a mission,’ Cesare reminded the scruffy little animal. ‘You get her out of the bathroom.’

      Archie hovered by the door, tried to push it but the balloon collar round his neck got in the way. Sitting back on his haunches, Archie loosed a sad howl that would not have shamed a banshee. Cesare threw him another piece of succulent chicken in reward. Archie gave a grand performance.

      Lizzie woke up feeling cold, water sloshing noisily around her as she sat up wide-eyed. Archie was howling at the door...or had that just been a dream? Clambering hastily out of the bath, she snatched up a fleecy towel and wrapped herself in it, just as Archie howled again. Glancing at the watch on the vanity to see how long she had slept, she was taken aback to realise that a couple of hours had passed and that it was now almost one in the morning. Depressing the lock, she opened the door in haste.

      ‘Oh, pet, I forgot about you! Have you been lonely?’ Lizzie asked, squatting down to the little dog’s level.

      ‘Want some supper?’ Cesare asked lazily from the bed on which he reclined.

      Small bosom swelling at that insouciant tone, Lizzie was about to tell him in no short order what he could do with supper and then her tummy growled and she registered in surprise that she was actually very hungry. Of course, she hadn’t eaten very much at dinner...

      Straightening, she looped her damp hair back behind her ear and focused on Cesare’s lean, darkly devastating face, clashing with the banked-down glitter of his stunning eyes. ‘You still want answers, don’t you?’

      ‘I’d be a liar if I said otherwise,’ he admitted, sprawling back with his hands linked behind his head, a position which only threw into prominence the muscular torso and flat ribbed stomach beneath his black T-shirt.

      Lizzie breathed in slowly, belatedly registering the table of snacks by the bed and the candles that must have been relit while she slept. A surprising sense of calm after the storm enclosed her. The worst had already happened, hadn’t it? What did she have to fear now? Not marriage, not sex, she decided, her chin coming up. Cesare had...briefly...scared her but that wasn’t his fault. No, that fault could be laid at the door of her late mother’s misjudgement of men and a stepfather who had given Lizzie nightmares long after he had passed out of her life.

      ‘You know, when you got so angry, you scared me,’ she told him baldly. ‘My mother was married to a man who beat her up when he got angry.’

      Cesare sprang off the bed, a frown pleating his ebony brows. ‘I would never hurt you.’

      ‘I think I know that already,’ Lizzie said quietly. ‘But running is still a reflex for me when men get angry. I can’t help it. The two years Mum was married to that man were terrifying for Chrissie and me.’

      ‘Did he hit you as well?’ Cesare growled in disgust, appalled that he could have, however unwittingly, frightened her.

      ‘He tried to a couple of times but he was drunk and clumsy and we were fast on our feet,’ Lizzie confided. ‘Let’s not talk about it. It’s in the past. But I should make one thing clear...’ She hesitated. ‘I’m only willing to talk about Andrew if you’re willing to talk about Serafina.’

      ‘And exactly who has been talking to you?’ Cesare demanded, a muscle pulling taut at the corner of his stern, handsome mouth.

      ‘Your grandmother mentioned her...and I’m curious too,’ Lizzie confessed while she walked into the dressing room in search of a nightdress. Shedding the towel behind the door, she slipped it on, catching a glimpse of herself in a tall mirror. What remained of her fake glamour had evaporated in the long bath she had taken. The moist atmosphere had added frizz to her formerly smooth tresses and she suppressed a sigh. Cesare was getting the real Lizzie Whitaker on this particular night.

      Emerging from the dressing room with Archie at her heels, she tried not to visibly shrink from Cesare’s acute appraisal. The silk nightie was long and, to her, the very antithesis of sexy because it revealed neither leg nor cleavage. Her face coloured as she stilled for СКАЧАТЬ