Her Wedding Night Surrender

‘I’ll sign the papers, Emmeline. If that’s what you really want. But I want to hear you say it.’

‘Say what?’ The words were a whisper and yet they echoed around the pool room.

‘Tell me you don’t love me.’ He crouched down once more. ‘Look in my eyes, see all the love I feel for you there, and tell me you don’t feel the same.’ The words were so deep, so gravelled. ‘Tell me you don’t want to live in Rome with me, as my wife, that you don’t want to be in my bed, that you don’t want to continue your studies. Tell me that you want to end our marriage. That you want that.’

Her sob was heartbreaking but he didn’t withdraw.

‘I don’t want to be married to you. Not like this.’

Her addendum at the end was a lifeline in the midst of a turbulent, terrifying ocean.

‘Not like what?’

‘Not because of him. Not because you felt forced to protect me. Don’t you see? I’m not the girl he thought I was. The girl you thought I was.’

‘I know that,’ he agreed urgently. ‘You never were. I married you because Col asked me to, yes. But I want to stay married to you because of how I feel. How you feel. Because of what we are.’

Tears ran down her cheeks. She bit down on her lip and looked away from him, trying—and failing—to rally her emotions into order.

‘I don’t think I believe you.’

The words were agonising to both of them.

‘I need us to divorce. It’s the only way.’

None of it made any sense. He expelled a soft sigh as he tried to comprehend his wife’s viewpoint.

‘Then say it.’ His eyes held a silent challenge. ‘Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll sign these papers and drop them off at your lawyer’s on my way out of town.’

Her sharp intake of breath told him everything he needed to know.

‘But if you love me—as I think you do—say that. Tell me that. Be honest with me.’

‘Our marriage has no future,’ she murmured, ignoring his question. ‘I’ll never trust you. I’ll never believe you’re not with me because of a sense of obligation...’

‘My God, Emmeline! If this was about obligation do you think I would have slept with you? I tried so hard to fight that, to not want you as I did, and yet you became my obsession. Think about it, cara. You had given me carte blanche with other women. But I didn’t want them. I wanted you. I have wanted you from the moment we married. Hell, probably from that moment in my office when you were laying down the ground rules for our marriage.’

She rejected his assertion with a skyward flicker of her eyes. ‘Sure. You thought I was so sexy you told me I had to change how I looked.’

He nodded angrily. ‘Yes! Because you were so obviously trying to make yourself as uninteresting as possible. And I was right about that. Because even then I knew you. I don’t care what you look like, for heaven’s sake. I care about how you feel. I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy with me. But if you want to be here at Annersty alone, or—God—with another man eventually, just tell me. Say it and I’ll sign these.’

‘I can’t... I told you. I can’t... This marriage...’

He made a sound of frustration, and before she knew what he was doing—perhaps before even Pietro knew himself—he was sliding into the pool beside her, fully dressed. He kicked his shoes off as he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her to him. And then he kissed her, the surprised ‘O’ of her mouth giving him the perfect opportunity. He kissed her and she kissed him back.

At least she did for a moment, before her hands lifted to his chest and she sobbed. ‘I’ll never trust you.’

‘Yes, you will.’ He stared down at her earnestly. ‘I think you already do. I think you hate what happened, and I think you’re mad as hell, but I think you love me and you want to find a way to make this work. Do you think that divorcing me will make you happy?’

She stared at him, her expression one of abject fear. And then she shook her head slowly. ‘But I need to know you’re not trapped. That you’re not with me because of him.’

‘I’m not.’ He arched a brow and pulled her closer, dropping his mouth so that his lips were just a millimetre from hers. ‘You gave me a perfect escape clause. You sent me the divorce papers. If I didn’t want to be with you do you think I would have flown halfway around the world the second I got them? No. I would have signed them, posted them and heaved a sigh of relief.’

He watched her face, watched it carefully, so that he saw the play of emotions in her features and particularly the moment comprehension seemed to overcome doubt.