‘Women feel differently about these things,’ she told him haltingly. ‘They may not have planned a baby, nor wanted a baby—but, once that baby is there, something primitive takes over—something outside all their control. Something that defies all logic!’
‘Tell me,’ he prompted softly.
‘It’s a protective thing, I guess. Nature’s way of ensuring the survival of the species. A woman feels proud, and…sort of…special, when she knows she’s carrying a child.’ Especially the child of the man she loved.
‘Well, you weren’t acting proud and special the night you told me about it,’ he observed.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Giovanni!’ She stared at him across the table. ‘What did you expect? I anticipated your reaction…’ She saw the look of remorse which darkened his features and she knew she could not bear him to feel she was attacking him. ‘I understood your reaction,’ she told him softly. ‘The pregnancy came out of the blue. We had made no plans to commit—on the contrary, in fact—and it must have looked like the oldest trick in the book, from your point of view.’
He acknowledged her generosity and her understanding, even though he felt he did not deserve it, and knew then that he owed her nothing less than the truth himself. ‘That’s exactly what I felt at the time,’ he admitted.
‘I know. That’s human nature,’ she murmured. But oddly, now that it was out in the open, his admission had lost something of its sting.
His mouth hardened and he stared angrily down at the boats which bobbed on the water. ‘And is it human nature to make love to a woman so violently—?’
‘No!’ she corrected, so fervently that he turned his head to stare deep into her emerald eyes, seeing forgiveness there. ‘Not violently, Giovanni—passionately, and yes, there is a difference.’
‘I shouldn’t have done it!’ He shook his head as he remembered the fever which had devoured him, a fever more intense than anything he had ever experienced.
‘You didn’t do anything, or, rather, you did—but I did it, too. I wanted you just as much as you wanted me. It felt…’ She struggled to put it into words that would not make him feel trapped still, only this time by the strength of her unrequited feelings for him, rather than an unwanted baby. ‘It felt primeval,’ she said slowly. ‘As though it had to happen, as if something had compelled it to happen.’
‘Snap,’ he murmured, and then his face darkened again as reality made its presence known. ‘Except that our passion lost us the baby, Kate, didn’t it?’
She wanted to take the hurting from him—because when he was hurting she was hurting, too. ‘You can’t know that!’
‘I won’t ever know, will I?’ he questioned darkly.
But then the waiter arrived with their food and half a bottle of white wine, and as if by an unspoken mutual agreement the subject was suspended while they each tried to lose themselves in the beauty of their surroundings and the taste of the fresh fish.
She was sleepy after lunch, and he insisted on taking her back to the villa.
‘Don’t you want to sightsee some more?’ She yawned.
He smiled. ‘You forget—I know the island like I know my own face. These trips are for you, cara mia.’
Telling herself that it was merely habit now that made him call her that, she opened her mouth to object. ‘But—’
‘No buts, Kate. Now you take a siesta,’ he ordered.
She couldn’t have resisted that tone of voice even if she had wanted to. It seemed deliciously decadent to be going to bed in the middle of the afternoon, but it was not decadent at all, because Giovanni gave her a brief, terse goodbye, and left her at the door of her room once more.
The shutters were drawn and the room was a cool haven, but her heart was heavy as she sank down onto the bed. It wouldn’t have killed him to hold her in his arms, surely? To give her the physical comfort and reassurance she badly needed right now.
But no, Giovanni was no hypocrite. He recognised that she was in a weakened state. He would not wish to be cruel to her by raising her hopes, only to dash them again. She must be strong, for the sake of her pride and her sanity.
And then the embrace of sleep claimed her, and she went willingly into its arms.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE midday sun streamed gold into the airy interior of the sitting room, and Giovanni lounged on the sofa as he waited for Kate to finish dressing for lunch. He gave a small groan as he shifted his position. Wanting her never got any easier, he thought. His body seemed to be in a permanent state of arousal.
They had spent the morning in Palermo, and he had taken Kate to the Calverri offices. His secretary had been polite—just—but he could see the naked curiosity in her eyes, wondering what this red-haired Englishwoman meant to her boss.
And now would come her baptism of fire, for within the hour—he glanced at his watch—his parents and his two aunts would be arriving for lunch. They had expressed a wish to meet her, and Kate had reluctantly agreed.
‘But why do they want to?’ she had asked.
‘Kate,’ he had replied patiently, ‘you’ve been here for almost two weeks and they’re rather curious about you, that’s all.’