She wondered how long it would take her to get over him. Just then she felt as if the entire world were covered by a big dark storm cloud that shut out all the light. Her past track record on getting over Antonio was not inspiring. Her attention lingered on his bold masculine profile, the springy blue-black darkness of his hair, his classic nose, the ebony sweep of his lashes and the wide, sensual curve of his mouth. Heat prickled low in her pelvis and she found herself wondering if she could tempt him into bed just one more time, and she was so mortified by that thought that she punished herself by looking out the window instead.
By the time the battlemented towers of the castillo appeared on the horizon, Sophie was strung up as high as a kite with nervous tension. Set against the backdrop of hills clad with dense green forest, Antonio’s ancestral home looked glorious. Grand though the ancient fortress was, it had, without her even realising it, become home to her.
She worried at her full lower lip, keeping her eyes very wide to hold back the tears that were threatening her. She was remembering breakfasts on the ironwork balcony when Antonio had cut up fresh fruit for her and made her feel like a princess. She was remembering how he had driven her crazy when he was trying to teach her to drive. She was remembering how nervous she had been before that first dinner party and how he had teased her out of her worries and boosted her confidence by convincing her that she was much cleverer than she had ever thought she was.
In a silence that echoed and without even needing to discuss a preference, they both opted to go straight up to the nursery. Lydia was fast asleep in her cot, gloriously unaware of the revelations that had rocked the world of the adults selected to care for her.
‘Will you visit her?’ Sophie heard herself ask Antonio tightly as she walked back out of the room again. It was painful to bear the strained silence where once they would have been cheerfully engaged in talking about Lydia.
‘Lydia’s not going anywhere,’ Antonio retorted, slowing his long stride to match her slower pace.
‘You don’t have the right to tell me that—’
‘This is not about rights. Regardless of what happens between us, I intend to continue playing an active role in Lydia’s life.’
‘I wonder if you will.’ Unhidden cynicism edged Sophie’s curt response to that declaration.
‘You will find that I keep my promises, mi amada. What I say I will do, I will do—’
‘Oh, stop being so stuffy and superior!’ Sophie lashed out at him, her desperate unhappiness finding a vent in temper.
Antonio swore under his breath, smouldering golden eyes clashing with her defiant scrutiny. ‘Don’t speak to me in that tone.’
‘Why? What are you going to do about it?’ Sophie snapped like a cat ready to scratch.
Antonio tugged her to him with one powerful hand and trapped her between the wall and his lithe, powerful body. ‘What you like best?’
Her heart started pounding like a road drill, her breath parting her lips in short little spurts. Her pupils dilated, she stared up at him, every sensitive skin cell on fire for him, every nerve ending singing with sexual awareness. She wanted him instantly and desperately.
‘No…’ Antonio told her with seething derision. ‘No talk…no sex!’
Her soft lips fell open. Hot pink flooded her creamy complexion. Shaken eyes veiling, she twisted under his arm and stalked away. ‘I didn’t want—’
‘Don’t you dare lie to me!’ Antonio launched at her wrathfully.
Sophie was shattered that Antonio had raised his voice. She paled, mortification eating her alive. Just by looking at her he had realised she wanted him. How much else did he know? That she loved him?
‘Antonio…’
‘But even if you won’t talk, you can at least listen,’ Antonio delivered, lean, strong face grim and, with that assurance, he bent down and scooped her up into his arms.
‘When you’re in the middle of having an argument with someone, you don’t just lift the person up in the middle of it and carry them away!’ Sophie hissed enraged.
Antonio settled enquiring eyes on her furiously flushed face. ‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s disrespectful…that’s why!’ Sophie declared.
Antonio shouldered open the bedroom door and, pausing only to kick it resoundingly shut behind him, he strode over to the bed and settled her firmly down on the edge of it.
‘You want to talk? OK…I’ll say it all for you,’ Sophie told him jerkily.
‘Why didn’t I think of that? I really should take you into the office with me—’
‘Look, I can’t joke about this!’ All of a sudden Sophie was finding it impossible to maintain her act of insouciance. ‘But you know we only got married because you believed Lydia was your niece.’
‘No, I don’t know that,’ Antonio responded infuriatingly.
Sophie fixed strained eyes on him, her heart-shaped face tight with tension and very pale. ‘This is not the time to be smart. You thought you had to be a father to Lydia and you felt sorry for me because Norah had mentioned that I couldn’t h-have k-kids…’
Antonio unfroze from his intimidating stance over her and hunkered down at the side of the bed so that their eyes were on a level. ‘That’s not important, mi amada.’
‘Of course it’s important…how can you say it’s not?’ Sophie gasped, the tears clogging her vocal cords making every word a challenge, her restive hands twisting together.
‘It’s sad,’ Antonio murmured gruffly, and he unlinked her tense fingers with gentle pressure and held them in his. ‘But you survived leukaemia and there was a price to pay. I am very grateful that you are alive and healthy today.’
‘Why?’ Sophie whispered shakily, in the dark as to where the dialogue was travelling.
Shimmering dark golden eyes captured her bemused gaze. ‘I can do without having children but I don’t think I could live without you.’
For a heartbeat Sophie was as still as a statue, for she could not accept that he could feel that way. She dragged in a shivering breath. ‘You can’t mean that…you can’t. You’re just feeling sorry for me—’
‘I don’t feel sorry for you. I was sad that you were infertile, but it’s not that uncommon these days and there are various remedies like adoption. It’s not the end of the world. I can see that it is still a great source of regret to you, but I have come to terms with it,’ Antonio imparted intently.
‘But how can you?’ Sophie mumbled, scarcely knowing what he was telling her.
‘People have adapted to far worse news. If our positions were reversed, if I was infertile, would you turn away from me?’
‘No!’ Sophie exclaimed instantly and then, colouring, added hastily, ‘But that’s different.’
‘How is it different?’
‘I don’t have a title to pass on.’
‘Titles such as mine are not of much use in today’s world,’ Antonio informed her levelly.
Sophie swallowed convulsively. ‘There is a small chance that I might be able to conceive. The doctors don’t really know how much damage was caused by the treatment I had when I was ill…but I wouldn’t want you to get your hopes up.’
‘I wouldn’t. In fact I would suggest we don’t even think of that slight possibility. Each of us has only one life and should make the most of it. I have found a happiness with you greater than anything I have ever known and I refuse to give that up,’ Antonio swore, his keen gaze alight with fierce sincerity.
The silence lasted a long time while she tried to find fault with that far-reaching statement, for she was almost afraid to credit that he might mean it and afraid to believe that happiness might be within her reach after all.
‘You refuse…you mean…are you saying you want to stay married to me even though I can’t have kids?’ Sophie almost whispered.
‘Sí, enamorada,’ Antonio confirmed.
Her green eyes were huge. ‘I really make you that happy?’
‘You do…’
?
?So you don’t think a divorce would be a good idea?’ she pressed unevenly.