The honesty of her confession somehow made his sudden withdrawal all the more shocking. Wracked by a sense of isolation and rejection, Holly instinctively snuggled against him, but his tension was unmistakeable.

‘Don’t ever say that to me, Holly. Don’t ever confuse great sex with love.’

‘I’m not confused. I know what I feel. And I don’t expect you to say it back, but that doesn’t mean I can’t say it to you.’ Tentatively, she slid her arm over the flat, muscular plains of his stomach. ‘I love you. And you don’t have to be afraid of that.’

He muttered something under his breath and then shook her off and sprang off of bed. ‘“I love you” has to be the most overused phrase in the English language. So overused that it’s lost its meaning.’

Holly crumpled as she watched her gift devalued in a single stroke. ‘It hasn’t lost its meaning to me.’

‘No?’ His eyes hard, he thrust his arms into a robe. ‘Usually when people say “I love you” they mean something else. They mean, “you’re great in bed”, or perhaps, “I love the fact that you’re rich and you can show me a good time”. For you it’s probably, “I love the fact that you were prepared to take on my baby”.’

Holly flinched as though he’d slapped her. ‘How can you say that?’ Her voice cracked. ‘Even after this time we’ve spent together, you still don’t know me, do you? I’m trying to do what’s best for our child, and you’re being needlessly cruel—’

‘Honest.’

‘I’ve never said those words to anyone in my life before, and you just threw them back in my face.’ The breath trapped in her throat, she watched him. ‘Just so that there is no misunderstanding, let me tell you what “I love you” means to me. It means that I care more about your happiness than my own. And I care all the time, not just when we’re having great sex. “I love you” means ignoring the pain you inflict every time you accuse me of lying, because I know you’ve been hurt yourself even though you won’t talk to me about it. It means being patient and trying to accept that you find it hard to share your thoughts and feelings with me. And it’s because I love you that I’m still standing here, swallowing my pride and trying to make this work, even when you hurt me on purpose.’

There was a long, deathly silence and then he lifted his hands, pressed his fingers to his temples and inhaled deeply. ‘If that’s really what you feel, then I’m sorry,’ he said hoarsely, and his voice was strangely thickened. ‘I can’t give you anything back. I don’t have that capacity any more.’

Without waiting for her response, he strode out of the bedroom, leaving her alone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

AS THE door slammed shut between them, Holly flopped back onto the pillows, emotionally shattered.

How had such a perfect evening ended so badly?

Why should her simple declaration of love have had such a dramatic effect on his mood?

She thought back to his dismissive comments about fairy stories, love and happy endings.

Yes, he’d lost his fiancée, but even extreme grief shouldn’t lead to that degree of cynicism should it?

And what had he meant when he said he couldn’t love?

Was he saying that he believed a person could only love once in their lives?

Was that what was going on in his head?

Or was he saying that he couldn’t love her?

Frustrated and desperately upset, Holly slipped out of bed, slipped her arms into a silk robe and walked across the bedroom. She stood for a moment with her hand on the door, wanting to follow him and yet afraid of further rejection.

Her hand dropped to her side and she stared at the door, her head a whirlpool of indecision.

She wanted him to talk, and yet she was afraid of hearing what he had to say.

She didn’t want to hear that loving and losing another woman had prevented him ever loving again.

Because that would mean that there was no hope for them.

And yet not talking about it wasn’t going to change things, was it?

Hoping she was doing the right thing, Holly slowly opened the door, realising that she had no idea where he’d gone.

What if he’d left the palazzo?

And then she saw a chink of light under the door to the library that they’d been shown when they’d arrived earlier.

Taking a deep breath, she tapped lightly on the door and opened it.

Casper stood with his back to her, staring out of the window.

Holly closed the door carefully. ‘Please don’t walk away from me,’ she said quietly. ‘If we need to have a difficult conversation, then let’s have it. But don’t avoid it. We don’t stand any chance if you don’t talk to me.’ She knew from the sudden tension in his shoulders that he’d heard her, but it seemed like ages before he responded.

‘I can’t give you what you want, Holly. Love wasn’t part of our deal.’

‘Stop talking about it as a deal!’ She stared at his back helplessly. ‘Could you please at least look at me? This is hard enough without being able to see your face.’

He turned and she froze in shock, because his handsome face looked as though it had been chiselled from white marble. His eyes were blank of expression and yet the depth of his pain was evident in the very stillness of his body.

‘Talk to me, Cas.’ Forgetting her own misery, she walked across to him. ‘Why can’t you love? Is it because you lost Antonia? Is that it? Is this still about your grief?’ And then she saw something in his face—a hardness—and everything fell into place. His comments. His beliefs. His cynicism. Suddenly she just knew. ‘Oh God—she did something dreadful to you, didn’t she?’

‘Holly—’

Ignoring his warning tone, she slid her hand into his larger one. ‘All this time I’ve been assuming you were madly in love with her, and perhaps you were once.’ Her eyes were on his rigid profile. ‘But she let you down, didn’t she? That’s the reason you were so cynical about my motives. That’s the reason you say you can’t love. You don’t want to let yourself love. Because you loved once before and she hurt you so badly. She did something, I know she did. Tell me about it.’

‘Holly.’ His voice thickened, and he turned on her. ‘Just leave it.’

‘No, I won’t leave it.’ She tightened her grip on his hand, refusing to let him withdraw. ‘I want to know. I deserve to know.’ Tears clogged her throat. ‘What did she do?’

A muscle worked in his lean jaw, and he stared at her, his eyes empty of emotion. ‘She was sleeping with my brother.’

His revelation was so unexpected that Holly just stared at him. ‘Oh, dear God.’

He gave a twisted smile and looked at her, his eyes strangely blank of emotion. ‘Shall I tell you what Antonia meant when she said “I love you”? She meant that she loved the glitter and glamour of royal life. All the high-profile stuff. Only in those days I was working flat out in a commercial role. I didn’t do many public engagements. I never expected to be the ruling prince. I didn’t even want it. But Antonia did. For her, “I love you” meant “I love what you can do for my lifestyle”, and once she found someone who could do more for her she transferred her “love” to them. The life my brother offered her was just too tempting.’

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