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‘This one is for Daddy, from Grandma…’

Christy watched as everyone opened presents and tried not to mind that Alessandro didn’t seem to have bought her anything.

Why would he? She was only here under sufferance. Because he wanted Christmas with his children, and she came as part of the package.

Eventually the pressure grew too much and she retired to the kitchen.

It was all right, she told herself firmly as she checked the roast potatoes and stirred the cranberry sauce. She’d cope. Whatever happened, she’d cope.

She was concentrating so hard on not breaking down that she didn’t hear the kitchen door open and close. She wasn’t aware of another person in the room until she heard Alessandro’s deep, dark drawl from directly behind her.

‘There are things that I have to say,’ he said tightly, ‘and you’re not going to like them. But I’m going to say them anyway.’

Oh, dear God, not now, she thought. She had to produce Christmas dinner for seven people and she couldn’t do that if he’d just told her that he didn’t love her any more and that he wanted her to go back to London. Knowing that it was the truth was quite different from hearing it.

‘We can talk later, Alessandro,’ she said quickly, sticking her face in the oven to check the turkey and resisting the temptation to leave it there. ‘This probably isn’t the best time.’

‘I don’t care about that. You have to listen.’ He strode across the kitchen and pulled her away fr

om the oven. Strong hands closed over her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

‘All right, then.’ She said the words with weary resignation. ‘This is about me going back to London, isn’t it? It’s fine, Alessandro. I’ll leave the day after tomorrow.’

‘You’re not going anywhere.’ His voice was a threatening growl and then he cursed softly and released her, taking a step backwards. ‘I’m doing this all wrong but—I’ve got you a present—let’s start with that.’

He seemed to be fumbling for words and she considered it a point in his favour that he appeared to have lost his usually fluent English. Obviously he wasn’t finding it easy and perversely she was glad about that. She didn’t want him to find it easy.

‘A present?’ She stared at him with a lack of comprehension. Given the gravity of their conversation, mention of a Christmas present suddenly jarred. Material gifts were so unimportant, she thought dully, but she forced herself to smile and look interested. ‘For me?’

‘Of course, for you.’

He would have bought her something because of the children, she reasoned. Because Katy would have asked questions if there’d been nothing for her. ‘Why didn’t you give it to me when we were all round the tree?’

‘Because this is a special gift from me to you and I don’t want to share it.’

Not because of the children, then.

What sort of special gift was he buying her? she wondered with wry humour. A one-way train ticket south? Frosted divorce papers?

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small box wrapped in glittering paper.

‘Oh, it’s pretty…’ And so unlike Alessandro, she thought as she took the box, feeling the sudden uneven thump of her heart. Don’t be ridiculous, Christy, she told herself firmly. This can’t be anything special. It can’t be.

‘Open it,’ he urged in a husky voice. ‘Open it, querida.’

A lump sprang into her throat. Why was he calling her darling when they were two days away from ending their marriage for ever?

Wanting to get the moment over as quickly as possible, she ripped off the paper and saw a small velvet box.

Jewellery.

It had to be jewellery.

Suddenly she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. She’d spent twelve Christmases with Alessandro and he’d never bought her jewellery and he decided to do it on their last one.

Why?

Trying to find the answer to that question, she looked up at him and saw an unusual degree of tension in his handsome face.


Tags: Sarah Morgan Lakeside Mountain Rescue Romance