CHAPTER EIGHT
SKYE SHIFTED UNCOMFORTABLY in her seat, keeping her discomfort hidden from her husband’s all-seeing gaze.
Only, Matteo did see the way she winced, and leaned forward. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ Skye said, a tight smile on her face. ‘I just walked too far today, that’s all.’ This day, and every day for the last week, since they’d taken to strolling around Venice each morning, afterwards stopping somewhere new for lunch.
Conversation was limited to unsensational topics, like the weather or current events or politics; nothing that they disagreed on. Nothing that could remind Skye that they were enemies, really, beneath the romance of Venice and the fact they were going to become parents.
But deep down she knew they were pretending again. At least they both knew the rules this time.
And Matteo seemed determined to stick to them. After the night on the terrace, he hadn’t said or done anything out of line. Not a word of seduction, not a hint of flirtation. He’d been the perfect gentleman.
‘You’re in pain?’
‘No, no.’ She winced again. ‘Just a little. It’s my lower back, that’s all. It’s an occupational hazard of the whole pregnancy thing.’
‘We’ve been pushing it.’ His words were tinged with self-recrimination. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s hardly your fault,’ Skye said, her brows drawn together. ‘I’m the one who keeps suggesting we go out.’
He held his expression neutral but there was a hint of something she didn’t understand that danced in the edges of his eyes. ‘I was foolish to let you walk so much.’
‘Let me?’ Skye countered. ‘Remember that whole “me being an autonomous human being” thing? Remember how I have that small thing called free will?’
Again, his eyes flicked with something she didn’t understand and then he stood, moving around the dinner table, extending his hands to her.
‘What is it?’ She looked at him, lifting her hands into his, the brightness of her diamond glinting in the pale light of the room.
‘Let me help you.’
‘I’m fine,’ she demurred, instantly pushing against whatever help he had in mind.
‘What’s the matter, Skye? Are you afraid of what might happen if I touch you?’
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, her eyes holding his. She was terrified.
Terrified of how badly she wanted him. The week they’d spent trawling all over Venice, exploring it anew, had been like the honeymoon they’d never had. It was the other piece of the puzzle. After their wedding, they’d had sex. A lot of sex. And she’d thought that was intimacy. But walking side by side, not touching, just talking, had been different.
It had been a form of torturous foreplay and, yes, she was afraid of what would happen if he touched her. But she stood anyway, not blinking, not doing anything to convey that fear.
‘Lie down.’ He nodded towards one of the long couches that sat opposite them. She nodded, moving across the room with the grace that was innate to her.
‘You don’t have to do this...’
‘You’re uncomfortable because of my baby. Of course I have to help you. It is my duty.’
Again, his insistence on his duty filled her with a cold ache—it served as a reminder of the fact he viewed her as an obligation. A responsibility. She kept her face averted as she lay down on her stomach, tilting her head to look out towards the view. She could see only the flower pots, an explosion of geraniums in the pale moonlight.
His hands on her back were gentle.
He knelt at her side and ran his fingers over her with just enough pressure to bring a sense of immediate relief.
‘May I lift your shirt?’ The words were throaty and deep.
Skye’s eyes were drawn to his. ‘Yes.’
He pushed the fabric up slowly and she held her breath. It was just a few inches, enough for him to be able to massage her naked flesh. But it was skin-to-skin contact and it rocked her world. She bit down on her lower lip and shut her eyes, surrendering to the sensations that were rioting through her.