He paused with the cup halfway to his lips, his smouldering gaze hooded. ‘Are you laughing at me?’ He rolled the ‘r’, sounding more and more Spanish as he always did when he was angry.
‘I’m not laughing at you.’
Slowly, he placed the cup back on the work surface, his eyes glittering dark and dangerous as he moved purposefully towards her. ‘Because if you’re laughing at me, querida, you can spend the night on the sofa tonight.’
Her heart started to thump hard against her ribs and she found herself backing away. ‘Alessandro, I wasn’t laughing.’ It was ridiculous that he could still have this effect on her, she told herself firmly. They’d been together for twelve years. It wasn’t possible for a man to make a woman weak at the knees after twelve years. It didn’t happen that way. People became bored with each other. Sex was supposed to become routine and infrequent.
‘You would fit better on the sofa.’ He was right up against her now, and she was right up against the wall. Breathing heavily. ‘You are smaller. More delicate.’
At that particular point in time she didn’t need him to point out their differences. Her eyes were in line with sleek, male muscle and dark body hair. He was pumped up and hard and breathtakingly sexy. There was certainly no missing the differences between them.
‘I’ll sleep on the sofa if that’s what you want.’ Why did he persist in standing so close to her? What was he thinking?
And then she made the mistake of lifting her eyes to his and instantly knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking of sex. She recognised the sudden darkening of his eyes, saw the tiny pulse flicker in his rough jaw. He hadn’t shaved yet and he looked more like a bandit than a senior doctor loaded with responsibilities.
Her tongue flickered out in what was actually a nervous gesture, but his eyes dropped to her mouth and she sensed the change in him.
He lifted a hand and brushed her cheek gently, his breathing unsteady. ‘Christy…’
He was going to kiss her.
She closed her eyes, her blood thundering round her body in excited anticipation, and then there was a clatter and laughter as the two children surged into the room.
Alessandro cursed softly and backed away from her, retreating to his abandoned coffee-cup and leaving Christy ready to sob with frustration.
‘Hi, Mum.’ Katy dragged a chair away from the table and sat down with one leg curled underneath her. ‘Dad. Good night?’
‘Marvellous. Perhaps you would like to bounce on the sofa as well as the bed,’ Alessandro suggested with sarcastic bite, ‘and then I wouldn’t have to sleep on it.’
Ben frowned, puzzled as he poured milk into his cup, slopping it everywhere. ‘But you don’t like us bouncing on the furniture.’
‘Dad was joking,’ Katy said calmly, reaching for a cloth to mop up the mess her brother had made. ‘He’s obviously in a bad mood because he slept badly. Tonight he’d better sleep in the bed.’
Alessandro threw his daughter an exasperated look and then turned to Christy. ‘How does she suddenly know so much?’
Christy gave a weak smile. ‘She’s growing up. Don’t worry. I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight. We’ll take turns.’
She poured herself another cup of coffee and missed the thoughtful smile on her daughter’s face.
* * *
The first person she saw when she arrived at work was Jake Blackwell, the obstetrician.
‘Babe! I heard you were back.’ He strolled towards her and dragged her into his arms for a hug.
Christy closed her eyes and held onto him. He was their oldest friend and suddenly she wondered exactly what A
lessandro had told him. ‘It’s good to see you.’
Jake gently disengaged himself and looked down at her with a searching gaze. ‘That bad, huh?’
‘Oh, no, everything is fine,’ she lied with a forced smile, and Jake gave a soft laugh.
‘If everything is fine, my angel, then why is Alessandro taking everyone’s heads off and walking round like a volcano on the brink of eruption?’
‘He’s angry with me because I took the children away,’ Christy muttered, and Jake looked at her thoughtfully.
‘You think so?’