He gave a whatever shrug. ‘Just speaking as I find.’
Bella bit her lip and looked away. She was just one of many lovers he’d had. Tonight was nothing out of the ordinary. It had rocked her world completely but it was just another encounter for him.
‘What’s wrong?’
She wrapped her arms around her body. ‘Nothing.’
He came over and placed his hands on the tops of her shoulders. Bella felt his warm hard body behind her. She ached to lean back and give herself up to the pleasure of being in his arms. But hadn’t she already stepped too far over the boundaries? How was she going to get back to her neat, ordered life? Her body would always want him. It wasn’t something she could turn off or on at will. She had made it a whole lot worse by experiencing the sensual delights of his love-making. How would she ever settle for anyone else after him?
‘Contrary to what you might think, this was special tonight,’ he said against her hair.
She turned in his arms and looked up into his blue-green eyes. ‘Do you really mean that?’ she asked.
He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs moving back and forth in a caressing motion across her cheeks as his eyes made love with hers. ‘Do you have to go back to London straight away?’ he asked.
Bella felt her heart do a crazy little somersault. ‘What are you saying?’
He brushed his mouth against hers. ‘Stay with me for a few days.’
Bella thought of the danger of staying with him. So many dangers—not just the danger of someone finding out about their affair, but the danger of her falling in love with him. Wasn’t she more than halfway there already?
She linked her arms around his neck and said against his already descending mouth, ‘I’ll stay.’
CHAPTER TEN
THE snow had long melted but Bella kept putting off returning to London. She was aware of the clock ticking on her time with Edoardo. By tacit agreement neither of them mentioned her upcoming engagement. Bella felt as if the girl who was about to become engaged to Julian Bellamy was someone else entirely—nothing to do with her. It was like living a parallel existence. She had compartmentalised her life in such a way as to have it all, or at least to have what she could while she could.
And Edoardo was what she wanted.
Since the night he had revealed his past to her, she had started to see him for the sensitive and strong, resilient man he was underneath his cynical façade. He was an intensely private person. She had never met a more private person. He loathed gossip. He didn’t have time for idle chit-chat. He was a man with a strong work ethic; he didn’t believe in people being handed things for free.
He made Bella see her privileged background quite differently. She didn’t like admitting it, but she had taken so much for granted. She hadn’t thought much about the sacrifices her father had made in order to provide her with an inheritance that was beyond the dreams of most people. She felt incredibly guilty for resenting that her father hadn’t focused all of his attention on her. But Edoardo made her see that her father had been working to provide for her, not for himself. Her father had been stung badly by the divorce from her mother and had spent the rest of his life rebuilding his empire so Bella could have a secure future. Her father had not said the words, but he had shown it in his actions.
As the week was drawing to a close, Bella went down to the village for supplies and was shocked to see a couple of journalists with cameras at the ready step out of a car as she came out of a shop. She put her head down and turned to go back the other way but within moments they were striding alongside her on the footpath.
‘Tell us about your relationship with the reclusive Edoardo Silveri,’ one journalist said as he followed her along the footpath. ‘Is it true you are currently staying with him at Haverton Manor, the house that once was your family home?’
Bella put her head down and kept walking. She knew from experience it didn’t matter what she said; they would twist it to make it sound like something else entirely.
‘A local source told us Mr Silveri was a teenage rebel with a criminal past,’ another journalist said as they came alongside. ‘Would you like to comment on what it’s like to be involved with a bad boy who made good?’
Bella swung her gaze to the pushy journalist. She could not bear to have Edoardo painted in such a way. ‘He’s not a bad boy,’ she said. ‘He’s never been bad. It’s the people who let him down and hurt him who are bad. They’re the ones who should be exposed and brought to justice.’