‘So you are both as proud and as stubborn as each other!’ Casimiro snapped.
‘So it would seem,’ said Cathy. ‘And now I must beg your leave, Your Majesty. The car will be arriving for me shortly. I am so happy that you are well again, sire.’ Her voice wavered a little at this. ‘And I wish you a long and glorious reign.’
With this she gave a quick curtsey before hurrying back to her rooms, but inside she could feel a mixture of anger and indignation bubbling up. The King expected her to go and seek forgiveness from his brother, but for what? For trying to love a man who had no love to give her in return.
Her hands were trembling as she threw a few ill-chosen items of clothing in her case before slamming it shut, but at least the fury she now felt helped dull some of the pain.
But there was no formal line-up of staff as she went down the sweeping marble staircase into the lavishly tiled marble entrance hall. Just Flavia, whose own smile of farewell was as cool as if Cathy had been introduced to her only minutes before. But Flavia was an aide who had spent all her life defusing emotion—because that was what royal life demanded of its players. Cathy knew that. It was the downside to all the jewels and fawning. And I never wanted that, she told herself fiercely. All I ever wanted was Xaviero—and he comes at too high a price.
Outside sat the limousine, its powerful engine giving a soft roar of life when she appeared, and Cathy gave one last look around the beautiful courtyard, trying to imprint it on her memory. The succulent plants. The bright, fragrant blooms. The fountain which plumed out its rainbow spray. And always the bright blue sky and soft heat of the sun—as golden as the eyes of a man she would never forget.
Grateful for the sunglasses which shielded her brimming eyes, Cathy slid into the back seat as the car pulled away. She could just sink back into its air-conditioned luxury and say nothing until they reached the airfield and the plane which would take her back to England.
And then?
She didn’t know and, at this moment, she didn’t particularly care. She felt like a small animal which had wandered into a trap and escaped with wounds which might never heal.
Painfully, she watched the city walls retreating, the wide roads leading to the airport growing suddenly narrower, and she frowned. The driver was obviously taking a different route from the one by which she’d arrived.
She didn’t know when exactly it was that she began to get alarmed—maybe when the car began to bump its way up a dusty road which looked as if it led to nowhere, and then stopped completely. What was going on?
Pressing the intercom connecting her with the driver, she found herself hoping that he spoke English—though surely even with her rudimentary Italian she could manage to convey that she was supposed to be catching a plane.
‘Scusi, signor…’ But then the words died on her lips as she saw the driver getting out of the car and opening her door. This was completely unprecedented! Her heart gave a leap of fear—and then a leap of something else entirely as she removed her dark shades. Because he was now pulling off the peaked cap which had hidden his ebony hair and shaded the remarkable gleam of his golden eyes.
And she found herself looking into the oddly forbidding face of her husband.
Chapter Thirteen
‘XAVIERO!’ Cathy gasped out. ‘What…what on earth are you doing here?’
Dropping his chauffeur’s cap into the dust, he moved towards her with sinuous grace. ‘I am stopping us both from making the biggest mistake of our lives.’
‘You mean you’re playing another of your games of pretending to be ordinary? Today, a driver—tomorrow, who knows? A painter and decorator again?’
‘This is no game—this is the real thing.’ But a note of admiration had entered his voice. How feisty she was! ‘My brother is still reeling from the fact that you marched out of his office without being given permission! He said that it was the most imperiously royal gesture he had ever witnessed!’ His golden eyes raked over her face as if he had never quite seen it before. ‘Oh, Cathy, what have I done?’ he groaned, and then pulled her into his arms and started to kiss her.
For several sweet moments she gave into that kiss, feeling herself begin to melt beneath its sensual onslaught before summoning up every ounce of power she possessed to tear her mouth away from his and to push uselessly at his chest. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Just don’t.’
Something in the defeated little tone of her voice stilled him. ‘But you want me to.’
Frustratedly, she shook her head. ‘Of course I want you to! I’ve always wanted you to—that’s been part of the problem. But the attraction I feel for you has blinded me to the truth. And it’s no good, Xaviero. Not any more.’