‘I am happy. And incredibly pleased. And so touched that you remembered—’ The tears escaped and spilled over her cheeks and he gave a rough imprecation and crushed her against him.
‘I realised that you were right when you said that none of the presents I’d given you were personal. I made assumptions that a large diamond would be well received, never thinking that it wouldn’t be special to you.’
‘I feel really ungrateful now,’ she muttered, clutching the book against her and pressing her damp face into his chest. ‘It’s not that I don’t like diamonds. It’s just that I know you’ve given away plenty and that they didn’t signify love. But this—’ she lifted her head and looked at the rows of books ‘—this is so special.’
‘I would have built it myself for you but I wanted to spend the time with you and I wanted it to be a surprise. You missed out on a childhood. I wanted to give you an intensive course.’ Carefully, he removed the book from her hands and set it down on the table.
Feeling utterly miserable, Laurel slid her arms around him. ‘I love you.’
He gave a groan of relief and kissed her. ‘Could you say that again?’
‘I love you.’ It was quite possibly the most honest moment of their marriage, the emotion as powerful an aphrodisiac as the physical attraction that consumed both of them.
Seconds later they were both naked on the rug, the shelves of books the only witness to their insatiable desire for each other.
One devastating kiss was all it took to turn her from a rational being to quivering, compliant, mindless, and the kiss didn’t just involve their mouths, but their whole bodies, legs entwined, hands exploring. She dug her nails into his shoulders, feeling hard, sleek muscle and tensile strength. He slid his hand lower, his skilled fingers exploring her with unapologetic intimacy and his touch sent her from hot to scorching, every nerve-ending shimmering because he knew her body so well and he wasn’t afraid to use that knowledge.
Her need for him was so acute that she moaned his name in a desperate plea and he shifted his position, clearly feeling the same urgency.
When he drove himself into her she cried out with relief because it felt so good. Her body immediately tightened around his and he swore softly in Italian, the dark glitter in his eyes revealing the effort required to hold back.
But she didn’t want him to hold back and used everything she had to drive him wild, the gentle lick of her tongue and the sensuous slide of her hands teasing his heated flesh until he lost his grip on that legendary control of his and thrust deep into her body.
His mouth came down on hers in an intimate kiss and they were still kissing when they hit that inevitable peak. The explosion smashed through both of them, a sizzling, scorching shower of sexual ecstasy that left them both drained and exhausted.
Later, they swam in the pool, making the most of the shifting position of the setting sun. Light danced over the surface of the water, tiny flashes that sparkled and dazzled like the wink of a diamond.
It should have been perfect.
But Laurel was in agony.
‘Cristiano—there’s something I have to say to you—’ The words burst from her and he took her in his arms, water clinging to his thick dark lashes.
‘Then say it.’
‘Earlier you said that you’d called an expert. I … I didn’t realise that was what you wanted. When you said that being married to me was more important to you than having children, I didn’t realise that you were planning on seeing doctors and doing everything we could to have a baby.’
‘I wanted to do that for you.’
‘Did you? Or did you want to do it for yourself?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t want me to do that?’
She could have lied. She could have let the relationship drift on without telling him the truth but they’d stumbled over enough obstacles in their marriage without her laying new ones.
‘No.’ She shook her head slowly, knowing that what she was about to say could kill their future. ‘No, I don’t. There’s something I haven’t told you. Something I haven’t been quite honest about.’
He was still, his face shadowed by the rapidly diminishing light. ‘Go on.’
How did she explain? Where did she begin? ‘Losing our baby was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. When I felt those first pains I thought to myself, No, please no, anything but this. I was frantic. There was nothing, nothing, I wanted in the world as much as our child.’ Her eyes filled as she remembered the horror of those few days. ‘And I lost it. And when they told me I couldn’t have more children I didn’t even care because I didn’t want to think about more children. All I cared about was the baby I’d lost. There was no way, no way, I ever would have put myself through that again. Risked that again. Our marriage was wrecked anyway so the issue of not being able to have more children became irrelevant.’