Bound to the Sicilian's Bed

She could feel the painful pounding of her heart.

No.

It might have been what she’d thought she wanted when she’d first filed those papers, but not any more. Because being with Rocco made her world come alive in a way it didn’t do with anyone else, whether she liked it or not. Didn’t matter that logic was urging her to get out while she still could, because all the logic in the world couldn’t change the fact that her heart ached whenever she was with him. She’d loved him from the start and she loved him still—and love was an emotion which defied logic. She had never known what had made Rocco Barberi the unfathomable man he was, but she did now. She thought how lonely and bewildered he must have been as a bereaved teenager—unable to show his own grief because he was too busy being strong for his siblings. Couldn’t she help break down the wall he had built around his heart? Couldn’t she try? She’d learnt to articulate her own emotions—maybe she could help him do the same.

Because she didn’t want a divorce. She really didn’t. She wanted a reconciliation—a real one this time, not one which was just for show. One which might or might not work, but surely they could give it a try.

But only if he wanted it, too.

She sat up very straight, the wooden slats of the bench pressing into her back. ‘I don’t want to fly back in your private jet, Rocco,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I want to stay here, with you. Or go back with you to Monaco—whichever you prefer.’

His features darkened. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

He snarled the question rather than asking it and, stupidly, that gave Nicole a glimmer of hope. Because Rocco was cool and measured and controlled, wasn’t he? He didn’t snarl. ‘I want to give our marriage another go,’ she said calmly. ‘And I’m hoping you might feel the same.’

‘Are you insane?’

The snarl was even more pronounced now and that gave Nicole the courage to carry on, because now she had nothing left to lose. She was laying it all on the line and pride was pointless. She was fighting for her future, she realised—a future which suddenly seemed empty without Rocco. ‘Perhaps a little,’ she admitted huskily. ‘But I want to tell you a few things I’ve discovered since you came back into my life.’

‘Nicole—’

‘Please, Rocco. At least do me the courtesy of hearing me out. Because I’ve discovered I am as much to blame for what happened as you were,’ she said, cutting across his words in a way she would never have dared do before. ‘I can see that now. I was just so...grateful...that you’d married me. Relieved that I wouldn’t end up like my own natural mother—so desperate for money and support that I’d dump my own baby and leave them crying feebly on a snowy hospital step. Only I would never have let that happen,’ she added fiercely, flaring her nostrils to suck in a shaky breath. ‘No matter what happened, I would have kept our baby...’

Her words tailed off and as she struggled to contain herself, Rocco shifted awkwardly on the seat. ‘Nicole,’ he said again, only this time his voice sounded almost gentle—like a doctor trying to placate an hysterical patient. ‘Please. Don’t do this.’

‘But I need to do it!’ she burst out. ‘Don’t you understand? I wanted you to comfort me after the miscarriage, to tell me that it was all going to be okay and we could try again. After all, lots of women go through that experience. It’s not the end of the world, even if it feels like it at the time. But you wouldn’t let me near you, Rocco—and I didn’t tell you what I wanted. What I needed. I had grown up in so many different foster homes that I never learnt the art of true communication. I learnt to hide my true feelings away because it was safer that way. And like you said, you aren’t a mind-reader—how could you have been expected to know what I needed? You were too busy protecting yourself from your own pain. Trying not to show it and succeeding in doing that—as you had been taught to do and have been doing all your life.’

‘I don’t have to sit here and listen to this,’ he said, his blue eyes furious now.

‘Oh, I think you do, Rocco. I think this needs to be said, no matter what happens.’ She drew in another breath because while this was the hardest thing of all to say, somehow it was the easiest too. ‘And I’m telling you that I love you. That I never really stopped loving you. That I’d like the chance to start over. To give our marriage another go—only a real one this time.’

‘And you think—what?’ He stared at her incredulously. ‘That I will magically start to love you, too?’

‘Who knows what could happen if you dared let me close?’ she whispered. ‘Why did you keep all my things if you didn’t care about me a little bit? Why didn’t you just get rid of them?’

‘Did my grandfather tell you to ask me that as well?’ he demanded.

Nicole saw his face darken and she realised that she might have pushed him too far. ‘He might have mentioned it,’ she admitted and then swallowed. ‘Look, you don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it, that’s all.’

‘How confident you sound, Nicole,’ he said, and now his words were icy-cold. ‘Whatever happened to that wide-eyed amenable woman who first bewitched me?’

‘She grew up,’ Nicole answered simply. ‘And the confidence is just a veneer, Rocco. Inside I’m shaking with nerves because something in my heart is telling me not to just give up on this marr

iage. So this is what I’m going to do.’ For a moment she stared up at the deep blue sky behind the fretwork of leaves and lemon blossom and inhaled the warm, sweet scent of the flowers. ‘I’m going to Palermo to find myself a hotel room and to look into the availability of cheap flights back to the UK—’

‘And I just told you—’

‘I know what you told me and it’s a very kind offer to let me use your plane, but if we’re splitting up then I’d rather do it under my own steam. Start as I mean to go on. I’ll text you to let you know where I am and which flight I’m booked on, and if you want me to stay...if you’re prepared to open up your heart to me, then...’ she drew in another breath ‘...all you have to do is come and get me.’

He rose to his feet, his face darkening as he tucked the sheaf of papers under his arm, his sapphire eyes blazing and brilliant. ‘You can have your answer right now, Nicole, and it’s very simple. I don’t want that kind of relationship. I never did. I’m sorry about everything that’s happened but we just have to live with that. Perhaps you were right all along and we need to move on.’ One of the sheets of paper he’d been working on fluttered to the ground like an oversized piece of confetti, but he didn’t even appear to notice. ‘My offer to fly you home remains—but I’m not going to force you onto my plane. It’s up to you. Let me know if you change your mind, but that’s all you’re going to get from me.’ His mouth hardened. ‘You’re on your own from now on.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE HOTEL ROOM was small, clean and perfectly functional. It had plain walls, a dark-beamed ceiling and a bed with a mattress so hard it might have been made of stone.

Just like Rocco’s heart, Nicole thought before forcing herself to stem that particular tide of thought. She couldn’t blame him for being the man he was. She couldn’t force him to feel emotions he wasn’t capable of feeling or make him want to try again. Because that wasn’t what he wanted. She’d been honest enough to put her feelings for him on the line and he’d been honest enough to tell her he wasn’t interested. All she needed to do now was be grown-up enough to accept the situation as it was, not how she wanted it to be.

But, oh, it hurt.