He’d broken her heart. Well, she’d recovered from Andrew; she would eventually recover from Cesare. Of course, she had never loved Andrew the way she loved Cesare; consequently getting over Cesare would be more of a challenge. Andrew had hurt her self-esteem and damaged her trust but Cesare had torn her heart out. To think of living even one day without Cesare somewhere nearby tore her apart, teaching her how weak and vulnerable her emotions had made her.
Yes, Lizzie acknowledged, tidying her hair, adding more concealer to hide the redness of her eyes, she had a long, long way to go in the recovery process. But now that she knew about the baby, it would have to start right now. She would have to put on the act of the century. She couldn’t afford to show the smallest interest in what was going on between Serafina and him. He had made it clear that she had no right to ask such questions and she would have to respect that.
Had Cesare behaved badly? She thought he had. Scrapping the business-agreement-based marriage had been his idea, not hers. But honesty forced her to acknowledge that he had suggested at the time that they would have to see how well their marriage worked. In short, their marriage as such had been on a trial basis. And obviously, while it had worked incredibly well for Lizzie, it had not worked at all for Cesare. That hurt; that hurt her very much. It was a complete rejection of everything they had shared in and out of bed over the past month and it made her feel such an idiot for being so deliriously happy with him while failing utterly to notice that he did not feel the same way.
Lizzie went downstairs for breakfast, Archie at her heels. The instant the dog saw Cesare, who spoiled him shamelessly and taught him bad manners by feeding him titbits during meals, Archie hurried over to greet him. Cesare vaulted upright the minute she appeared. Unshaven, noticeably lacking his usual immaculate grooming, he still wore the same jeans and shirt. He raked a long-fingered brown hand through his tousled hair, looking effortlessly gorgeous but possibly less poised than he usually was.
‘I won’t lock the bedroom door again,’ Lizzie promised, her heart-shaped face as still as a woodland pool. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think about what I was doing but the room’s free now.’
‘I’ll get a shower before we leave for the airfield,’ Cesare countered, his dark golden gaze scanning her expressionless face as if in search of something. ‘Lizzie, we need to talk.’
Already having foreseen that he might feel that that was a necessity, Lizzie rushed to disabuse him of that dangerous notion. The very last thing she needed in her current shaky state of mind was a rehash of the breakdown of their relationship the night before. It wouldn’t smooth over anything, wouldn’t make her feel any better. How could it? Essentially he was dumping her and nothing he could say would ease that pain.
‘That’s the very last thing we need,’ Lizzie told him briskly. ‘All that needed to be said was said last night and we don’t need to go over it again.’
‘But—’
‘What you said made sense to me when I thought it over,’ Lizzie cut in, desperate to shut him up. ‘This is business, nothing else. Let’s stick to that from now on and I’ll keep to my side of the bargain while your grandmother is staying with us on the island. I see no reason why we shouldn’t bring this...er...project to a successful conclusion.’
Cesare blinked, disconcerted by the sound of such prosaic language falling from her lips. He was relieved that she was calm and grateful that she now intended to accompany him to Lionos for Athene’s sake but he didn’t agree with a single word she was saying. While, uniquely for him, he hesitated in a frantic inner search for the right approach to take with her, Lizzie took the wind out of his sails altogether.
‘And that successful conclusion I mentioned?’ Lizzie continued, a forced brightness of tone accompanying her wide fake smile. ‘We’re almost there because I’m pregnant.’
‘Pregnant?’ Cesare exclaimed in almost comical disbelief, springing back out of his seat again and yanking out the chair beside his own for her use. ‘Madre di Dio...sit down.’
Taken aback by his astonished reaction to her news, Lizzie sank down on the chair. ‘It’s not earth-shaking, Cesare. Women get pregnant every day.’
‘You’re my wife... It’s a little more personal than that for me,’ Cesare parried thickly, stepping behind her to rest his hands down on her slim, taut shoulders.
Alarmingly conscious of that physical contact, Lizzie froze in dismay. ‘Could I ask you not to do that?’
‘Do what?’
‘Touch me,’ she extended in an apologetic tone. ‘I’ll understand if you’re forced to do it when your grandmother’s around to make us look like a convincing couple but we’re alone here and there’s no need for it.’
Off-balanced by that blunt response, Cesare released her shoulders and backed away. He was thinking about the baby and he was fighting off an extraordinarily strong urge to touch her stomach, which he knew was weird, not to mention an urge destined to go unfulfilled.
‘Forgive me,’ he breathed abruptly. ‘My immediate response was to touch you because I am full of joy about the baby.’
He had never looked less full of joy to Lizzie. In fact he looked a little pale and a lot tense, eyes shielded by his ridiculously long lashes, wide, sensual mouth compressed. She wanted to slap him so badly that her hands twitched on her lap. Like a magician pulling a white rabbit out of a hat, she had made her unexpected announcement, depending on it to wipe away the awkwardness lingering after their confrontation the night before. She had just let him know that he would never have a reason to touch her again because she had conceived. He should have been thrilled to be let off the hook when he didn’t deserve it. Instead, however, a tense silence stretched like a rubber band threatening to snap.
‘I didn’t think it would happen so...fast,’ Cesare admitted half under his breath.
‘Well, it saves us a lot of hassle that it has,’ Lizzie pronounced with as much positive emphasis as she could load into a single sentence. Hovering on the tip of her tongue was the highly inappropriate reminder that, after the amount of unprotected sex they had had, she thought it was more of a surprise that they hadn’t hit the jackpot the first week.
‘Hassle?’
‘If we’d had to go for the artificial insemination, it might have been a bit...icky,’ she mumbled, momentarily losing her grip on her relentless falsely cheerful front.
Icky, Cesare repeated inwardly. It was a pretty good description of how he was feeling. Icky. He had suffered a Damascene moment of revelation while he was with Serafina the previous night. A blinding light that even he could not ignore or sensibly explain away had shone over the events and emotions of the past month and he had finally understood how everything had gone so very wrong. Unfortunately for him, since Lizzie had joined him for breakfast, he had realised that ‘wrong’ was an understatement. He had dug a great big hole for himself and she was showing every intention of being perfectly happy to bury him alive in it.
Cesare went upstairs, СКАЧАТЬ