Dante ran a hand though his hair. He had no right to be angry with Beth; she was his wife and she had lost their baby. He had promised to take care of them both and he had spectacularly failed. Worse, he could not control or explain the emotions churning inside him....
He grabbed Beth’s arm as she tried to walk past him and spun her into his arms. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
Held close against his strong body, Beth felt nothing. It was too little, too late. ‘You didn’t.’ She lifted expressionless eyes to his. ‘I have been sitting here thinking of everything that has happened since I first met you and you are right—I am guilty as charged. I did lose your baby.’
‘Dio! No—I never meant it like that.’
Beth saw the shock in his eyes and didn’t care. ‘Maybe not, but it is true. What happened yesterday proves the old adage that no good deed goes unpunished, and today I realised it was the story of my life. I offered two boys I thought were friends a lift and ended up in prison. I saved a little girl and lost my own child. I’ve finally learned it is best not to get involved with anyone. Now, can we leave? I want to get home.’
Dante looked at her pale blank face. The doctor had told him her injuries were not serious—a few scrapes and bruises and a gash that had needed eight stitches. As for the miscarriage—there was to be a minor procedure on Monday and in a week she should be fine. But after losing the baby she might be a little depressed for a while, and he must be patient with her. Dante knew he should not have lost control and shouted at her.
‘Yes, of course,’ he said softly, and took the bag from her hand. Taking her arm, he left the hospital.
He glanced across at Beth as he drove through the country roads. Her head was back, her eyes closed. Maybe that was best. Dante was not an emotional man, and though he was gutted at the loss of the baby he could not find the words to express how he felt.
Back at the cottage, as soon as Beth walked in the door Binkie was there. Bending, she picked him up in her arms, stroking and murmuring to him as she headed for the kitchen. She put Binkie down and methodically prepared his bowl of chicken. Then she made a pot of coffee—perhaps to prove her baby really was gone.
Dante followed her into the kitchen. ‘It is no good ignoring me, Beth. We need to talk about this.’
Beth turned expressionless eyes on him. ‘Not now. I am going to have a coffee and then shower and change,’ she said in a cool voice.
‘I’ll join you.’
‘For coffee.’
Filling two mugs from the pot, she handed him one. Her emotions were in deep freeze, and she was immune to the brush of Dante’s fingers against hers.
She walked back though the house and out onto the terrace. She sat down on one of the captain’s chairs, took a sip of coffee and stared out across the sea. The morning sun shimmered on the calm green water and the waves lapped against the fine sand. Her gaze strayed to the headland. As if to mock her, the tide was out and the rocks were barely fifteen feet from the water’s edge.
Beth heard a footstep on the terrace but did not turn her head. She took another drink of coffee.
Dante took the chair beside her, his eyes fixed on her delicate profile. ‘I honestly didn’t mean to upset you any more than you already are, Beth. I know how hard it must be for you. As for me—I have never felt so awful in my life as when I got the call from the hospital and heard what had happened to you. I really wanted our baby. Never doubt that.’
Beth turned her head, her green eyes resting on Dante. She didn’t doubt it for a second. She knew he’d wanted the baby. It was her he had never really wanted and had got stuck with.
‘It was never meant to be,’ she said flatly. ‘The baby was conceived for all the wrong reasons. I was stupid, and you wanted me out of your brother’s life. If that wasn’t bad enough you and I agreed this child was going to be the product of a broken home before it was even born. I don’t know what I was thinking of... I must have been out of my mind. But not any more. I’ve had enough. I love it here. I relocated here to get out of the rat race and this time I am staying.’
‘Having got that off your chest, aren’t you forgetting something?’ Dante prompted. ‘You are my wife, and I have some say in your future.’
‘Not for much longer. The reason for our marriage is gone. I want nothing from you so we can get divorced straight away. You’re a lawyer—I’m sure you can arrange it.’ Beth rose to her feet before adding, ‘I’m going for a bath.’
Dante watched her walk back inside but didn’t follow her. Instead he looked out over the bay, his eyes narrowed as he considered his options. One thing was certain: he was not ready to let Beth go....
The more he got to know her the more he questioned his original assessment of her. She was an amazing woman... He couldn’t think of a single female he had ever met who would have leapt into the sea after that child. Most would not risk getting their hair wet, let alone risk their own life, but Beth had.
His angry outburst when he’d first seen her hadn’t been because she had lost the baby but because he had feared for her life....
Rising to his feet, he strolled back into the house.
* * *
With the dressing on her back in mind, Beth had had a bath in about nine inches of water. Stepping out, she took a towel and carefully dried her aching body. She found an old blue tracksuit in one of the drawers. It had loose pants, so would not press against the cut on her back. Then, barefoot, she walked into the bedroom, slid open the glass door to the balcony and stepped outside. She sank down on a lounger, safe in her haven, and closed her eyes.
‘Beth?’
Reluctantly she opened her eyes at the sound of her name, and saw Dante walking out of her bedroom on to the balcony, carrying a tray.
She sat up abruptly. ‘What are you doing here? This is my room.’