The Sheikh's Innocent Bride

‘I was so much more fortunate than Julie was. My parents loved me from the beginning,’ Jemima said tautly. ‘It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d been a bit slow at school but Julie’s family—’

‘I’m not interested in Julie’s life story,’ Luciano cut in smoothly.

‘She’s Nicky’s mother!’ Jemima condemned.

‘And I’m grateful she’s not here to cause my son any more damage,’ Luciano told her truthfully.

‘That’s an appalling thing to say!’ Jemima slammed back at him, sliding her legs off the bed and yanking violently at the sheet for cover.

‘Is it?’ Luciano rebutted grimly, angry dark eyes hard as obsidian. ‘She was his mother and that gave her rights over him but she wasn’t a decent, caring person fit to exercise those rights!’

With a final forceful jerk, Jemima dislodged the sheet and wrapped it round her naked body to stalk back through the interconnecting door into her own room. Eyes wet with tears, she was trembling. Her first foray into sex had gone badly wrong and made her feel worthless and rejected. Her late sister was being abused and there was very little she could say because Julie had done wrong. But very few people were all bad. Jemima blinked back the tears as she dug through her case to extract her dressing gown and dropped the sheet to walk into the bathroom.

She needed to shower, wash away the memory of Luciano’s touch and the feel of his body on hers. Shivering, she switched on the water. Her mind drifted back inexorably to her sister and powerful regret filled her because she kept on thinking that if she had only had a little more time with Julie she could have got closer to her and somehow changed things for the better. On another, more rational level, though, she was painfully aware that Julie had never listened to her and had neither respected her opinion nor sought her advice, particularly where Nicky had been concerned.

But Nicky had crept into his aunt’s heart the moment she’d met him because he had been a most unhappy baby.

‘I don’t know how to be a mum!’ Julie had complained, becoming almost hysterical because her son had been crying and inconsolable. ‘You tell me to cuddle him but I don’t feel comfortable with that. He’s making me feel bad!’

Nicky had suffered from colic and Julie had not been able to cope with him or the sleepless nights. Jemima had tried to help and had ended up taking over. She had blamed herself when Julie had gone back to London to work, leaving her baby in Jemima’s care. She had blamed herself too when her twin had failed to bond with her child but she had also been aware of Julie’s chequered past history. In truth Julie had had many troubled relationships in her life and rarely settled anywhere for any length of time. Running away from difficult situations had been the norm for Julie.

Luciano had no compassion, Jemima thought wretchedly. Julie had done bad things but her sister had not set out to be a bad person. Tightening the tie on her dressing gown, Jemima walked back to the door that still lay open between the two bedrooms.

‘I loved my sister...and I won’t say sorry for that!’ Jemima told Luciano defiantly. ‘But I am sorry I lied to you. That was wrong. I got too attached to Nicky and I was frightened of losing him but I do appreciate that that doesn’t excuse my not immediately telling you that his mother had passed away.’

Luciano’s full sensual mouth twisted. ‘It was a power play, wasn’t it?’

Jemima gazed back at him without comprehension. ‘Power didn’t come into it...’

Somewhere in the distance she heard a thin high-pitched wail and stiffened. ‘Nicky’s crying,’ she muttered, walking to the door.

‘Carlotta will take care of him,’ Luciano countered.

Wrenching open the door, Jemima listened to the wails drifting down from the floor above and started down the corridor. ‘I can’t leave him upset,’ she called apologetically over her shoulder, sensing Luciano’s disapproval and refusing to look back at him.

She would be gone from his fancy island castle soon enough, she reflected wretchedly. He was hardly likely to allow her to stay now that he knew she had lied to him and had no real claim to Nicky. Yet it still stunned her that he had gone to bed with her in spite of that knowledge. He had admitted that he had been drinking. Inwardly she cringed. Had alcohol made her seem more attractive than she was? Why was she even thinking in such a way? What did it matter now? They had had sex and there was no going back from that. It had been a casual thing for him and he had been quick to vacate the bed afterwards. He had actually asked her what price she put on her virginity, she recalled painfully. She felt ashamed and humiliated and blamed him for it.