Oh, yes, no doubt at all, she was pregnant. She required neither test nor examination to confirm the fact. Already her breasts were swelling and incredibly sensitive, and if she hadn’t been convinced that it was far too soon for her waist to start expanding she would have sworn her skirts were getting uncomfortably tight. Maybe she would blow up like a balloon by the third month, she reflected miserably. For how long could she hope to keep her secret?
Vito shared her bed every night. Vito made love to her every night. For that matter, Vito made love to her in the afternoons as well. In fact, this was just about the only time of day when he kept his hands off her. And she liked it that way, in fact she loved his constant hunger for her, revelled in this one hold she had over him, basic though it was.
Overflowing with self-pity, she blinked back tears and sniffed. She ought to be ashamed of herself. She should have told him a month ago that she might be pregnant, and then in all likelihood he would have left her alone. If she had any pride at all she would have long since grabbed at the first excuse she had to keep him at a distance. The trouble was… well, the trouble was that she might be living in a fool’s paradise but she was so happy. She had never been this happy before, and she managed that feat entirely by blocking out the fact that this was not a normal marriage. She took each day as it came.
But tomorrow they were returning to London. The honeymoon would be over and all she had to look forward to was a miscarriage and the certainty that once that happened Vito would see the writing on the wall and let her go. Unless she could manage to hide that from him as well. Maybe it would happen when he was abroad… or maybe it wouldn’t happen at all. She rested her palm protectively against her stomach. She wanted the baby so much that it hurt and no way could she have both Vito and the baby. She would have to go away and have it somewhere where not even all the Cavalieri wealth and influence could contrive to find her. Somewhere like the moon or Mars, she thought crazily.
Just before lunch she came downstairs, breathtakingly beautiful in an emerald dress as green as her eyes, an inner glow blazing from her lovely face so powerfully that Vito faltered in the conversation he was having on the phone. He caught her hand, planted a kiss in the centre of her palm and returned his attention with visible difficulty to the phone.
‘It must be the air here,’ he murmured, dark eyes almost dazedly pinned to her radiance. ‘You get more gorgeous with every passing day.’
‘You’re just susceptible.’ She looked like a cat contemplating a large, rich bowl of cream as she studied him, possessiveness surging through her veins in a heady surge. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, either. There was a powerful electrical charge in the atmosphere. It lit her up like a high voltage shot of energy.
‘Madre di Dio, you’re going to kill me,’ he whispered, mesmerised by her sensual smile. She bit into a luscious grape, headily conscious of the effect she was having on him. So, on his side it was only the best sex he’d ever had… so what? She loved him. She was willing to settle for second best, willing to live for today at the expense of bitter regret tomorrow. If this was the only happiness she was fated to have in her life, she was ready to grab it with two greedy hands.
‘I want my lunch,’ she said.
‘And it’s our last day,’ he reminded her with obvious reluctance. ‘You said you would like to see the elephants again.’
The elephant orphanage at Pinawella had entranced her the previous week. He had remembered. The perfect companion and lover, entertaining, thoughtful and intelligent enough to be a constant challenge. Yet this same male had abandoned her, thought the very worst of her, married another woman, whom he still never mentioned though Ashley had given him several encouraging openings to do so. Sometimes, like now, these two opposing views of Vito’s character tortured her, and yet she was afraid to get too close to the past lest it divide them again.
‘I could always look at the photos I took instead.’ ‘And perhaps we could stay out of bed long enough to talk,’ Vito tacked on tautly. ‘I have things I need to say to you.’
He looked serious, and these days the minute he got serious she got nervous. Her appetite for lunch all but vanished. She pushed her food round the plate.
‘Why is talking so threatening to you?’
‘We fight.’
‘We don’t need to fight,’ he drawled levelly.
‘You make me feel like a child waiting outside the headmaster’s study.’
‘I don’t want to make you feel like that, but we do have to learn to practise greater honesty with each other.’
‘Why bother?’ she demanded brittly. ‘I’ll be gone in another few months… won’t I?’
He tensed. Dense ebony lashes briefly fanned down to meet his hard cheekbones. ‘Yes, of course, but surely that does not negate the point of establishing better communication now?’
Equally tense, she snapped shakily, ‘You’re never satisfied, are you? You want to scour the fine print for a flaw to dwell on. I try to give you what you want and it’s still not enough! I know it’s only an illusion, what we have right now, but-‘
‘Is it?’ Grim dark eyes rested on her.
She reddened. ‘Of course it is.’ Proudly she thrust up her chin, fearful that he was already suspicious of her motives and determined to conserve her own pride. ‘I’m just giving you good value for your money!’ she told him. He went white beneath his dark tan. Desperately she wanted to reclaim the lie but it was too late. He rose from the table with a searing look of distaste that she was certain would live with her to her dying day. ‘When I need a whore, I’ll go to one, but you certainly deserve a bonus for your enthusiasm!’ With a derisive hand he tossed a tiny soft leather bag on the table in front of her. ‘For services rendered above and beyond the call of duty.’
He vaulted into the four-wheel-drive in front of the house and raked down the driveway out of sight. Trembling, she opened the bag. A flawless cornflower-blue sapphire set into a ring tumbled out on to her palm. The stone was quite exquisite; she knew that it was a gem of the highest quality, worth thousands and thousands of pounds, and the knowledge made her feel worse. It was a personal gift, unlike the engagement and wedding-rings demanded merely for the sake of appearances. She burst into floods of tears.
It was after nine when he returned. She was waiting for him in the drawing-room. When he appeared in the doorway, she shot to her feet. ‘I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry!’ She hadn’t intended to sound quite that pleading, but one glance at his dark, unsmiling profile was sufficient to panic her. What they had, she cherished. She could not face losing it.
‘Forget it,’ he advised chillingly. ‘You get what you pay for. And since I did pay for you, I can hardly object to your candour.’
‘Where have you been all day?’
‘You actually sound like a real wife.’
Vito, I love you, please don’t do this to me. She almost said those words out loud. She wasn’t prepared for it to end yet. She wasn’t ready. Maybe she would never be ready, she registered fearfully, if the second he walked out of the door in a temper she turned to a jelly. That was the extent of his power in the cruellest and most refined form, and she was in torment. He poured himself a drink, offered her one, and when she uttered a negative said flatly, ‘Why don’t you go to bed? We’re leaving early in the morning.’
‘I didn’t mean what I said.’
‘Relax, your little brother was off the hook weeks ago.’
‘That isn’t why I’m trying to reason with you.’
‘No? Well, there’s only one other option, isn’t there? The threat of a night without a sexual orgy thrown in appals you? Tell me,’ he demanded raggedly, belatedly making her suspect that he was not enjoying his first drink of the evening, ‘from the depths of your endless experience of my sex, am I really so good that you’re prepared to crawl and beg?’