She whirled at the concern in Francesca’s voice. Giving her cheeks a hurried wipe, she went out. ‘What’s wrong? Is it Alex?’
She lurched to a halt in the middle of the small café and stared.
Prickling heat washed over her, swiftly chased by cold sweat. She was staring at Rafael Vitale. The man she missed with every breath. The man who’d torn her heart out.
He said nothing. He didn’t need to. The rest of the world disappeared.
She couldn’t speak. She desperately wanted to flee or hide or curl into a ball and die. But she couldn’t get her body to move. She’d been glued in place by his presence. And right this second she hated him for it.
‘Gracie,’ he said quietly.
She couldn’t answer.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Gracie.’
She had no idea how she was looking at him. Tears were stinging her eyes again and she didn’t want blurry vision. She wanted to be able to see him. To believe he was here. Why was he here? Why had he returned?
Emotion broke through the shocked rigidity her defensive system had encased her in.
Anger. Pure, electric anger.
‘I made a mistake,’ he suddenly said in an uneven voice. ‘Huge. More than one. Lots.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Her throat was so tight she couldn’t get her voice past a whisper.
The café was quieter than a mausoleum. Was no one else breathing either?
She couldn’t think what to say. Her heart raced, drumming blood in her ears. It was impossible to think. She fell back onto her work, like an automaton. ‘You want some pastries? Bread?’
‘No. I just want you.’
She was shocked to silence all over again. He couldn’t have just said that. She couldn’t have this conversation in front of all these people. Clenching her fists, she finally forced her broken-hearted body to move. She stalked away from the concerned gazes of her customers, her boss. And him.
Most of all him.
‘Don’t run away from me, Gracie,’ he called as she burst out the door and into the hot summer air.
‘Then don’t tear me apart in front of my world,’ she snapped back. ‘Give me some privacy.’
He stilled. ‘I’m sorry. I was trying to...’
‘To what?’
He stared at her for a moment, then swung round to see the people now standing behind him outside the café. He turned back, hurriedly stepping towards her. ‘Privacy. Right.’ He gestured to his car. ‘Please.’
The Ferrari was illegally parked right across the road from the café.
She stared as he opened the passenger door for her. Was she going to let him do this? Could she really take any more hurt?
I just want you.
She wanted to believe that so much. She wanted him so much. But he didn’t do relationships of the kind she wanted. He didn’t do for ever.
‘Please, Gracie.’ His voice was soft so only she could hear and she couldn’t bear to look into his eyes.
She couldn’t bear to deny him. Or herself. Not again. Not ever.
Stiffly she stepped closer so she could get into the car. Except he grabbed her arm and leaned in to whisper, ‘I’ve never had it before, Gracie. I didn’t know how to handle it.’
‘Handle what?’ she croaked.
‘Love.’
Her heart thudded so hard it knocked all the air from her lungs and she couldn’t get any more in. ‘I’m not—’
‘I miss you,’ he interrupted, his whisper harsher and rushed. ‘I hate waking up and you’re not there. I hate that I pushed away the best thing ever to enter my life. I hate that I was that stupid to run from this.’
She couldn’t resist any more. She looked up to meet his gaze. The dark heat, the bruised look beneath his eyes smote her heart. ‘This?’
‘You.’ His fiery eyes burned into hers. ‘I hate the villa without you. It’s too big. It’s empty. I’m empty.’
Her mouth dried. ‘But you’ve sold it.’
‘No.’ He shook his head in a jerky movement. ‘I took it off the market.’
‘Sofia just said a family is moving in. Almost immediately.’
He stood very still for a moment. Then he nodded. ‘I’m hoping that’s what’s going to happen.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘It’s not a very big family. Yet. It’s a couple. I like to think they’ll have some kids eventually.’
‘A couple?’ She couldn’t tear her gaze from his, from the ferocity of his focus on her.
‘You and me.’
A whooshing noise fuzzed her hearing—like large waves crashing on the shore. She couldn’t keep up with what he was saying. She couldn’t believe it. ‘You’re keeping the villa?’
‘Only if you’re living in it with me,’ he muttered. ‘Alex can tend his roses. We’ll get him better help. You can work in the pasticceria, or you can develop your catering business from the kitchen.’
Her head felt woollier than ever. ‘Did you say...kids?’
As he stared into her eyes, his gaze narrowed and he gently shook her arm a little. ‘Get in the ca
r, Gracie. We need privacy.’
She was trembling so much it took two attempts to get her seatbelt clicked. She couldn’t get her walloping heart to ease. He didn’t speak and she couldn’t. She was shaking inside. He couldn’t drive fast enough for her. She needed his touch on her again—to feel inside and out that he was here, that he’d come back to her and he wasn’t leaving. She didn’t want him to leave her ever again. But was that what he’d even meant?
Uncertainty ate away what little security she had.
I just want you.
For what—sex? For another fortnight? Doubts circled like clouds of doom. She wanted to believe in the fairy tale, but he was the one who’d told her fairy tales were for fools. She didn’t want to be a fool over him. She didn’t want to begin to believe...
He screeched to a stop outside the villa, flung his seatbelt off and leaned towards her.
‘Trust doesn’t come easily for me—loving,’ he muttered harshly. ‘Except you’re so loveable.’ He turned her face so she had to look at him. ‘You’re so easy to love, Gracie. I want you. I want everything with you. And I want it for always. Please tell me it’s not too late.’
Everything for always? A single fat teardrop slid down her cheek. She couldn’t stand it. ‘Of course it’s not too late. I can’t just switch it off.’
And she was sorry he’d been so hurt that he’d think she could. She gulped back a sob.
‘No. Don’t cry.’ He drew her closer, his whisper urgent. ‘I’m sorry. So sorry. How do I make this better?’
He didn’t give her time to answer. With a growl he swooped, slamming his mouth on hers—hard and rough and passionate. She clutched him back, moaning under his onslaught, desperately angry and empty and needing to kiss him back to know. It was brutal and raw and she couldn’t hold back because she’d missed him too much. She poured all her pain into answering his kiss. And suddenly it changed completely—no less wild, but the warmth that began to flood her body was like no other. Yes. This was what she needed. To feel his passion—to burn again in the fire that always ignited between them. She couldn’t ever get enough.