Once a Ferrara Wife...

‘You don’t hate me, tesoro.’ The assurance with which he spoke those words should have angered her because she’d always hated the way he accepted people’s respect and adulation as his due. He didn’t just walk into a room, he commanded it and that natural assumption of power had exasperated her.

Her throat tightened again, but this time the response was nothing to do with her asthma.

‘Go, or there will be gossip.’

‘I’m not even going to respond to that.’ His arm brushed against hers although whether by accident or design she didn’t know. ‘Do you need to inhale this thing again?’

She opened her eyes.

He still held her inhaler in his fingers and she shook her head.

‘Maybe in a minute … And if you don’t go back, Dani will notice.’

‘When Dani sees that both of us are missing she’ll assume we’re together. She’ll be opening champagne and congratulating herself.’

‘That’s what worries me. Go.’

‘You really think I’d leave? I learned that lesson two years ago.’

The irony of it would have made her smile if she’d had the energy. ‘Two years ago I wanted you—now I don’t.’ Her lungs were improving, the desperate fight for air eased by the medication. ‘I’m not a hypocrite. I chose to leave this marriage so I can’t expect you to hold my hand just because I’m scared. Not that I’m saying I’m scared.’

‘Of course you’re not. God forbid that you would ever admit to vulnerability. Tell me something—’ his tone was conversational, as if they hadn’t just been engaged in a blistering row ‘—have you ever leaned on anyone in your life?’

‘I leaned on you.’ And you weren’t there.

Hearing those unspoken words loud and clear, his jaw tightened. ‘I asked for that one.’ He sat down on the floor next to her, his broad shoulders pressed against the wall. The sleeve of his jacket brushed against her bare arm and Laurel felt the connection deep down in her soul. She hadn’t expected him to stay.

‘I don’t remember inviting you to sit down.’

Ignoring her, he leaned his head back. ‘You’re the most aggravating woman I’ve ever met, you do know that, don’t you?’

‘You talk to me of aggravating?’ She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘When I needed you most you were nowhere to be seen and now I don’t need you I can’t get rid of you. That’s aggravating. Go back to your other women, Cristiano.’

‘Which one? According to you, I have a harem.’

‘I’m sure any one of them would provide you with the slavish adoration you need.’ Laurel felt the solid warmth of his arm pressing against her. He smelled so good, she thought dizzily. Her senses were heightened, her skin tingling and her nerve endings buzzing. Recognising the danger signs, she felt a stab of alarm. She needed him to leave. Either that or she needed to leave but she didn’t have the available breath. Or anywhere to go. ‘Your problem is that you think women are a homogeneous group. You think we all think and feel in the same way.’

‘You’re wasting precious breath spouting rubbish.’ ‘You think we’re an inferior species.’ He threw back his head and laughed at that. ‘Is that the best you can do to pick a fight? Now I know you’re feeling bad.’

‘I just want you to go.’

‘Sì, I know.’ His voice was low and rough. ‘But I’m not going anywhere.’

‘I find it stressful you being here.’

It was a moment before he answered. ‘Why?’

The sounds of the night intruded on the silence. The rhythmic chirruping of the cicadas and the soft swish of sea on sand. Romance intruding where it had no business.

‘A million reasons.’

The tension pulsed between them and Laurel pressed her hands to the ground, intending to lever herself away from him, but his hand clamped over hers.

‘Name one.’

‘Because our marriage is over. And because you always want everything your own way. There, I gave you two.’ She tugged, but he was stronger. ‘Let me go. My legs are numb. I need to move.’

‘Of course you do. Whenever the conversation becomes uncomfortable you want to move. Usually as fast as possible in the opposite direction.’ He levered himself to his feet. ‘I’ll allow you to go as far as the bed.’ Without giving her the opportunity to argue, he scooped her into his arms.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake—I can walk. I don’t need all this macho stuff. I’ve told you, it does nothing for me.’ Her breathing felt strange again but this time she knew it had nothing to do with her asthma and everything to do with being this close to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, telling herself it was just for support. Nothing else.