Heading barefoot down to the floor below and fast chilling in the unbelievably icy temperature of the stairwell, Luciano thrust open the door and strode straight into Kerry’s room. It was in darkness but the torch illuminated her bed.
‘I can hear you crying…’ he murmured with a buoyancy he only just managed to keep out of his voice. ‘It’s not reasonable to expect me to listen to that and do nothing.’
‘Wha…at?’ Kerry mumbled sleepily, pushing herself up on one elbow and then squinting against the unkind beam of light engulfing her.
‘Don’t waste your time trying to convince me that you were asleep, cara,’ Luciano urged.
‘Well, I’m not asleep now because you woke me up,’ Kerry answered in bewilderment as she reached for the matches to light the storm lantern by her bed. ‘Why did you do that?’
Luciano spread wide impatient arms in emphasis. ‘Dio mio! I could hear you crying from the floor above—’
‘But I haven’t been crying.’ What on earth was he doing in her bedroom in the middle of the night? And why was he spouting some cock-and-bull story about having heard her crying when she had been fast asleep?
As the glow from the lantern began to slowly cast dim light, Luciano lowered the torch that had been blinding her. Taken aback to then note that his lithe, lean masculine frame was only clad in jeans, she studied his bare brown torso where lean, corded muscle rippled below smooth, bronzed skin and a riot of short dark curls sprinkled his chest. Involuntarily, her gaze wandered over his sleek, taut midriff and lingered. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe and she could feel her wretched face burning like a bonfire with embarrassment.
‘You…were…crying,’ Luciano ground out in exasperation, brilliant golden eyes probing her blushing visage for evidence.
‘Over you again…I suppose?’ Kerry found it almost soothing to recognise that on one level Luciano had not changed a jot: he was the centre of his own world and he had always assumed that he was the centre of hers too.
‘I heard you, but if you want to deny it, go ahead. But I would be obliged if you would remove the dogs from under my bed—’
‘Sorry…?’ Kerry frowned.
‘You heard me.’ Luciano dealt her a fulminating look before he left the room.
Not content with waking her up, he was now acting as if it was her fault that the dogs were in his room, but he must have let them in! Scrambling angrily out of bed and safe in the knowledge that her nightie was about as revealing as a shroud, she sped up the twisting stairwell and stalked into his room.
‘Out!’ she launched at the trio of long, pointed noses peering out guiltily at her from below the high bed. In any other mood, she would have laughed at the picture the dogs made, for Finn, Bab and Conn might be the size of little ponies but they were still only puppies. One by one the littermates emerged, cast a last look of regret at the fire they were used to sleeping beside and slunk out.
‘Just keep your door shut,’ she advised Luciano sharply, bright blue eyes enhanced by the furious flush on her cheeks. ‘And stay on this side of it…don’t wake me up in the middle of the night with daft stories!’
Aggressive jawline clenched while his brilliant gaze continued to scan the extraordinary voluminous confection of white cotton and lace covering her from throat to toe, Luciano breathed, ‘Dio mio! It was not a daft story. I heard someone sobbing—’
‘It’s a windy night and the rafters creak and groan.’ Now painfully conscious of his wondering appraisal of her antique nightdress, Kerry stiffened, feeling foolish. As she realised that she would have given her right arm to have startled his expectations of her with sexy satin instead, she was so angry with herself for even caring that she added with withering scorn, ‘Or maybe our fabled Florrie is haunting you…Florrie’s got to have it in for unfaithful men!’
That she should throw that same charge at him again sent dark fury hurtling through Luciano. Before she could walk out, he sent the door crashing shut with the heel of his hand. ‘Is hit and run all you’re good for? Or have you got the backbone to face facts?’
Already regretting having tossed that incendiary final comment, Kerry was disconcerted by his furious reaction and forced to a halt. She folded her arms with a jerk. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my backbone—’
‘But there’s a lot wrong with that narrow little mind of yours!’ Lean, strong face grim, Luciano’s dark golden eyes smouldered over her. ‘Do you think if some previous lover of yours had shown up the way Rochelle did when we were engaged that I would have reacted in the same way as you? That I would have resented and blamed you for a past encounter that nothing could change? You let her come between us. You encouraged her behaviour by overreacting to her every move—’
‘I didn’t see you rejecting her!’ Kerry accused heatedly, his every censorious word cutting through her defensive barriers.
‘I told her to cool it…but, believe it or not, it wasn’t a crime for her to speak to me in an office environment. She likes to play games and you were a very responsive target. The minute she appeared, you started behaving like a jealous kid,’ Luciano derided. ‘Porca miseria…our engagement seemed to mean nothing to you. Then you wanted some perfect fantasy guy who had never lived until he’d met you—’
‘No, I didn’t!’ Struggling to control the tempestuous surge of her emotions, Kerry sent him a stark look of reproach. ‘I just needed to know that you loved me. Without that, I couldn’t feel secure and I couldn’t believe that you could find me more attractive than her…’
Luciano had stilled and faint perceptible colour had burnished his hard cheekbones. His shimmering golden eyes were no longer seeking to strike aggressive sparks off hers but veiled by his dense black lashes. In the tense silence, he parted his lips as though he was about to say something, then seemed to think better of it and sealed them closed again.
Biting pain scythed through K
erry at the confirmation of what she had long suspected. He had never loved her. He had liked her, perhaps fancied her a certain amount too, but that had been about it. ‘Were you really naive enough to think that I would eventually inherit my father’s wine stores?’
A preoccupied air about him, his arrogant dark head came up, a questioning frown etched between his winged brows. ‘Of course not. When I told your father that I was going to ask you to marry me, he went out of his way to inform me that you wouldn’t be featuring much in his will. I was angry that he should imply that I would care either way.’ Belated comprehension hardened Luciano’s fabulous bone structure, outrage narrowing his gaze. ‘Is that what you thought?’
Her eyes fell from his in sudden shame.
His pride was lacerated by that insult to his integrity. ‘How stupid can you be?’ Luciano demanded. ‘I was so crazy about you I lost my wits! For what other reason would I have gone looking for a poppy field in which to propose?’