Modern Romance September 2017 Books 5 - 8. Кейт Хьюит

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      At the end of the meal she took her decaf coffee out onto the terrace, curling up on a lounger as she watched the stars appear in the sky, like diamond pinpricks in a bolt of black velvet. He was avoiding her, she acknowledged with leaden certainty. He had to be. To absent himself all afternoon and then through the evening... He was telling her how he intended things to be, and Allegra didn’t like it. If he was going to leave her alone, she might as well have stayed in New York.

      She liked it even less when she woke up the next morning to an empty-feeling house. Maria was in town at the market and Salvatore was outside, working in the garden. Rafael was nowhere to be found.

      She decided to go for a walk—only to be told, regretfully, by Salvatore that Signor Vitali had forbidden her from leaving the formal gardens, as the mountainside was steep and dangerous. Allegra looked at the high stone walls, the whole world shimmering out of reach, and realised she was truly trapped.

      She stalked inside the villa, fury rising in her like a tidal wave. So she’d been brought to this beautiful estate to be kept as a prisoner. She didn’t know what hurt most—Rafael’s controlling attitude or his deliberate absence. She stewed for most of the morning while Rafael kept his distance, and then finally she’d had enough. She’d find him, and, by heaven, she’d tell him what was on her mind.

      ‘Where is Signor Vitali?’ she asked Salvatore, who looked shocked by her strident tone.

      ‘He is working...’

      ‘Where?’

      ‘In his study, but he does not wish to be disturbed.’

      ‘Perhaps he needs to be disturbed,’ Allegra answered. ‘Could you please tell me where his study is?’

      ‘I don’t think—’

      ‘Tell her, Salvatore,’ Maria said quietly, coming into the room behind Allegra. ‘She is carrying his child. She deserves to talk to him. And Signor Vitali...he needs company too.’

      With a shrug of his thin shoulders Salvatore pointed upstairs. ‘The top floor. A room on its own.’

      Allegra stalked upstairs, her anger giving her a boldness she hadn’t known she’d possessed. A narrow, twisting staircase at the end of the corridor led to a single room on the villa’s top floor, its heavy, oak door shut fast. She knocked on the door hard enough to bruise her knuckles.

      After a pause she heard Rafael’s gruff voice. ‘Salvatore?’

      ‘No. Allegra.’ She turned the handle, gratified when it opened, and walked into the room.

      Rafael’s study was spacious, with wide windows on three sides offering stunning views of the mountains. A huge mahogany desk took up the centre of the room, and Rafael sat at it, his eyes narrowed, his mouth compressed.

      Allegra planted her hands on her hips as she faced him. ‘If I’d known you were going to imprison me here, I wouldn’t have agreed to come.’

      ‘Imprison?’ Rafael arched one eyebrow. ‘I’d hardly call this a prison.’

      ‘I’m serious, Rafael. Since we’ve arrived you haven’t shown your face once—’

      ‘I have much work to catch up on.’

      Allegra hesitated for a second, wondering if she was overreacting. Wondering why she wanted his company so much, why she felt so hurt. Then she took a deep breath and ploughed on. ‘So why can’t I even take a walk?’

      Rafael’s nostrils flared. ‘These are simply measures to ensure your safety.’

      ‘I’m not made of glass,’ Allegra burst out. ‘I’m not going to break.’

      For a second Rafael’s face contorted, and then he looked away. ‘You don’t know that,’ he said quietly. ‘Anything could happen, Allegra.’ His voice went hoarse. ‘Anything.’

      Allegra stared at him in confusion, her heart twisting at the look of bleak despair on his face. ‘Rafael...’ she asked softly. ‘What is it that you’re so afraid of?’

      ‘I’m not...’ he let out a shuddering breath, wiping his hand over his face ‘...losing you. Losing our child.’ He turned away, dropping his hand, the set of his shoulders resolute once more, that brief glimpse of raw vulnerability gone. ‘We came close to losing this baby, Allegra, or at least thinking we were going to lose it. Him. I don’t ever want to feel that again.’

      She stared at him, wishing she understood more. Wishing she knew how to reach him. ‘You can’t control everything, you know,’ she said quietly. ‘You can’t prevent accidents from happening, or just life. I need to live, Rafael—’

      ‘You are living,’ he cut her off dismissively. ‘Enjoy the villa and all it has to offer. Lounge by the pool.’

      ‘I don’t want to spend every day lounging.’

      His expression closed up. ‘I really do not know what you are complaining about.’ And with that he angled his body away from her, pulling a sheaf of papers towards him. So she was being dismissed, like some unruly servant. He wouldn’t even look at her any more. This was how Rafael dealt with people. He wasn’t overprotective, he was compulsively controlling. And it hurt to realise she was just a cog to him, something to move and manipulate accordingly. Stupidly it hurt, because she hadn’t wanted to let herself care. Yet here she was, caring. Hurting.

      She stood there for a moment, watching him work, seeing the way he’d completely blanked her out. It was as if she no longer existed. His gaze didn’t flick to her once.

      She felt the fury rise again, but with it something far worse. Despair. She couldn’t fight this. Arguing with Rafael, just trying to have a reasonable discussion with him, was like battering her head—her heart—against a brick wall. Because now that she was here, now that she’d come into his life and brought him into hers, she wanted more than this. And she had no idea how to get it.

      Without a word she turned on a heel and left his study, slamming the door behind her. The loud thwack as it crashed against the doorframe was satisfying even though she knew the gesture was pointless and childish.

      She walked downstairs, fury still pounding through her, along with the despair. She wrenched open the French doors to the terraced gardens, causing Maria to bustle in from the kitchen, her expression alarmed.

      ‘Signorina—’

      ‘I’m just going for a walk.’

      Maria frowned. ‘Signor Vitali—’

      ‘I don’t care about Signor Vitali.’ Allegra cut her off, wishing it were true, and she walked out of the house.

       CHAPTER TEN

      FROM THE WINDOW of his study Rafael watched Allegra stride through the gardens, her entire body rigid with affront. He fought the urge to run after her, insist she return to the villa. Keep her safe. He couldn’t control everything, but he’d damned well try. The alternative was unthinkable.

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