The house was in darkness as he showered and crawled into his cold, empty bed. Sleep should have swallowed him whole but instead he stayed on the edges of wakefulness, unable to find the rest he craved.
His mind was full of Christy, at that moment probably sleeping peacefully in their spare bedroom.
The thought of her warm, perfect body sent his tension levels soaring and he eventually gave up on sleep just as the weak, winter light was filtering through the curtains. Cursing softly, his body thrumming with frustration, he pulled on a pair of fleecy tracksuit bottoms and a sweatshirt and went out for a run.
The snow was crisp and fresh on the ground, unmarked, and his breath clouded the air as he pounded silently along the track that led from his house to the river. Today the boulders were tipped with snow and the water was ice cold and as clear as glass. He ran until the breath tore at his lungs and his muscles ached and eventually arrived home to find the children sprawled on the sofas, watching Christmas cartoons on television. Christy was in the kitchen, making pancakes.
She glanced up as he walked into the room and for a moment they just stared at each other. Then she cleared her throat and turned back to the frying-pan, jiggling it with one hand to stop the pancake burning.
‘Do you want some breakfast?’ She was wearing a pair of jeans that fitted her snugly and the same blue
jumper that he’d admired the day before. Her hair was loose, her cheeks were flushed and she looked pretty and far too young to be the mother of the two children watching television in the next room. Alessandro felt a vicious tug of lust that had him backing out of the room. It was just because he hadn’t seen her for two months, he told himself firmly. As soon as he got used to having her around, he’d be able to control himself. Until then, he needed to keep some distance.
‘No, thanks. No breakfast.’ His stomach was growling, the pancakes smelt delicious, but he couldn’t trust himself to be in the same room as her and not grab her. Later, he promised himself, when he had his feelings well and truly under control, they’d talk. ‘I need to get back to the hospital.’
‘Alessandro.’ Her voice was exasperated and she tilted her head to one side, her amazing, fiery hair sliding over her shoulder. ‘You didn’t come in until five and you were out running two hours after that. Even you need to rest some time!’
The only way she could possibly know the detail of his movements with such accuracy was if she hadn’t been able to sleep either.
Registering that fact, he studied her face, saw the colour seep into her cheeks as she realised just how much she’d betrayed. Felt a flash of satisfaction that she wasn’t as indifferent as she appeared to be. Maybe there was hope for them.
‘Just for a few hours this morning,’ he said huskily. ‘We’re ridiculously short-staffed. Everyone is off sick. I’ll be back after lunch.’ Suddenly he wished the children were at school so that he could just grab her and do what he wanted to do. He’d have her on the kitchen table in five seconds flat, naked in ten.
And he had a feeling that she wouldn’t resist.
When had either of them ever been able to hold back in the bedroom? Their mutual passion had always been a driving force in their marriage. It was how they’d solved most of their problems.
‘So short-staffed you’re not even allowed to sleep?’
‘There’s a flu bug going around,’ he muttered, dragging his eyes away from the smooth skin of her neck and trying to kill the erotic images dancing around his brain. ‘Half the nurses are off sick.’
‘You’ll be joining them if you carry on pushing yourself like this,’ she said tightly, and he sighed.
‘You know what A and E is like.’
‘Yes.’ She grabbed some plates and slammed them down on the table with more force than was necessary. ‘I should do. I used to work there and I was married to you for long enough.’
‘Was?’ He repeated the word, a jealous, possessive anger springing to life inside him. She must have detected something ominous in his tone because she looked up at him and he saw the misery in her eyes.
His insides twisted and he ran a hand over the back of his neck to relieve the growing tension. In all their years of marriage, he’d never seen Christy cry. He’d seen her helpless with laughter and wild with temper, but he’d never seen her cry and the shimmering mist of tears in her green eyes brought a sick feeling to the pit of his stomach.
‘Christy—’
The phone rang and Christy leaned across to answer it, clearly relieved at the interruption.
Knowing her as he did, he guessed that such a display of weakness would have horrified her.
Alessandro watched as she pulled herself together. He heard her clear her throat and speak, saw a smile touch her wide, generous mouth and watched her glorious hair slide over her shoulder as she tilted her head and listened. He’d always loved her hair. The colour of autumn leaves, it fell past her shoulders in soft, wild curls. He was so absorbed by the soft, feminine curve of her jaw that he didn’t even realise she’d replaced the receiver.
‘That was Sean.’
‘Nicholson?’ Alessandro struggled to concentrate. ‘Did he want to talk to me?’
‘No.’ Her voice was calm as she reached into the oven for the stack of pancakes she was keeping warm. ‘He wanted to talk to me.’
‘What about?’
Christy put the pancakes in the middle of the table. ‘Working in A and E. He wants me to do bank work for the two weeks leading up to Christmas to cover all the nurses you have off sick.’