He walked along the corridor, and when they showed him into her room she was asleep against a great bank of pillows. She looked so small and so fragile that his heart turned over, and seeing the curve of her belly made an indescribable pain hit him.

Feast your eyes on her now, he told himself. For this will be the last time you shall see her so defenceless and vulnerable. Your access to her and to the baby will be barred from now on, and she will look at you in the wary and watchful way in which divorced wives do. From now on your relationship with Jenny will consist of brief meetings and visitation rights—and a whole legal framework.

‘Aren’t you coming in?’ she said softly, without opening her eyes.

He stilled. ‘Jenny?’ he whispered hoarsely, as if a ghost had spoken to him.

She opened her eyes. ‘Hello.’

He started. ‘Did you hear me come in?’

‘Yes.’ And she had felt his presence, too—her senses were so alerted to him.

He rubbed his hands over his face, suddenly weary. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘So am I.’ She managed a smile, wanting to banish some of the bleakness in his black eyes. ‘But that’s what comes of eating seafood! I shall have to be more careful in future.’ She gave him a wobbly smile. ‘But the baby is safe, thank God.’

He felt as if she had driven a stake through his heart. ‘Jenny, don’t!’ he said savagely. ‘Rail at me and tell me you hate me, send me away, but don’t do this to me! For when you are kind it makes it so much harder, and I cannot bear to see it crumble—not what I thought we were on the way to regaining—’ He shrugged his big shoulders. ‘I just don’t think I can bear it,’ he repeated brokenly.

Jennifer stared at him. ‘Matt—you’re not making any sense. Didn’t you hear me properly? Don’t torment yourself. Please. Your baby is safe. Isn’t it wonderful?’

‘Yes, it’s wonderful,’ he said heavily. ‘But I deserve all the torment in the world.’

‘Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?’

He blanched, praying for the courage to give his wife the facts which would finally put closure on their marriage. ‘You haven’t been shown a newspaper?’

Jennifer stilled. ‘No. They’ve been keeping me quiet.’

He nodded. ‘Well, you’re going to find out sooner or later.’

‘Matt, just tell me!’

‘Sophia Perotta has given an interview claiming that I cheated on you with her throughout our marriage.’

Jennifer stared at him, searching his black eyes, the sombre slash of his mouth. ‘You told me that it was just once. Afterwards.’

He nodded.

‘So she’s lying.’

Matteo stared at her. ‘Jenny?’

‘You told me you did not stray in our marriage. I believe you.’ She had to believe him, or else there was no future for them.

She had done a lot of thinking in that quiet white hospital room, and had come to the conclusion that she couldn’t spend the rest of her life reacting like a spoiled teenager. She was a woman with a baby on the way—who needed to look at a bigger picture than pride and hurt feelings.

‘I know what happened between you, and I have to learn to live with that—but that doesn’t mean I need to torture myself with badly written detail. We’ve both made mistakes, Matt, and one of those was my lack of trust, I don’t intend repeating it. It’s the way things were—but I’m more interested in the way things are now. And I’m going to work at our marriage—because I want it to survive.’

‘Survival?’ he asked, and his heart sank. ‘That is all you hope for?’

‘Isn’t that enough? Trust and respect make a pretty good substitute for love. When we were apart I missed you more than words can say, and I want to be married to you. Just as you want to be married to me. B-because we’re having a baby.’

‘No!’ he denied furiously. ‘No!’

She started. ‘You don’t want to be married to me?’

He could have kicked himself. She was ill, and yet managing to be so understanding that she’d taken his breath away—while he was behaving with all the finesse of a bull. ‘I don’t want to be married to you just because of the baby,’ he corrected. ‘I want to be married to you because I love you.’

‘Don’t say that,’ she said shakily. ‘Please.’

And then he saw his own fears and uncertainties reflected in her sapphire eyes. ‘Even if it’s true?’ he whispered. ‘And you the great champion of the truth? Do you know something else, Jenny—I will carry on telling you that I love you even if it takes for ever for you to believe me and to learn to love me back again.’

Joy licked over her skin with warm fingers, and tears began to well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. ‘I’m a quick learner,’ she wept. ‘I already do. I’ve never stopped—and if you don’t come over here and hold me properly then I shall create a scene as only an actress can!’

He was smiling as he took her in his arms—as if she were a delicate parcel and any pressure might make her snap.

‘Hold me tighter,’ she protested.

‘Later,’ he promised, as he eyed the needle in her arm. ‘I’m not risking the wrath of the doctors.’

And Jennifer laughed, because she had never seen her husband look intimidated over anything. ‘Won’t you at least kiss me?’

‘Mmm.’ His mouth curved. ‘Posso controllare quello,’ he murmured, and touched his lips to hers. He kissed her until he felt her heart hammering like a little bird, and he rested his palm over it and sighed softly. ‘Now you must rest,’ he said firmly. ‘And listen to what I have to tell you about our future.’

She leaned back against the pillows.

‘After my next two films I’m taking a break from acting—because there are a thousand possibilities out there and I don’t want to be at the opposite end of the world from you any more. Especially if you’re on location with the baby.’

‘But I won’t be on location with the baby,’ she said softly. ‘Because I don’t want to live that kind of life any more, Matt.’ She edged her way a little farther up the bed. ‘Acting works well for lots of people, but I want to look after my baby myself, and concentrate on you and me. At least for a while. After that we can reconsider—maybe take it in turns to film. Or maybe I’ll just retire and have a big, old-fashioned, Italian-sized family!’

Matteo stared at her, his black eyes full of gratitude and wonder. And excitement. Because for the first time in his life he could understand what it was all about. The houses didn’t matter, nor did the awards and the fame and the riches. Jenny and the baby they would have—they were what mattered. His family. Their family.

They were still blinking at each other like two people who had emerged into the sunlight after a long time in the dark when there was a brisk rap on the door. In walked a nurse, with two minders close behind.

One of them came up to Matteo and spoke rapidly in his ear. When he’d finished, Matteo looked over at Jenny.

‘Much as I’m grateful for your mother’s spirited defence of my morals—I think I’d better go downstairs, cara mia,’ he said, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. ‘I’m afraid that your mother has just started to hold a press conference!’

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from Playing the Royal Game by Carol Marinelli

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Presents title.

You want the world! Harlequin Presents stories are all about intrigue and escape—glamorous settings, gorgeous women and the passionate, unforgettable men who want them.

Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.

We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com

Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!