Why had she wasted the opportunity at his office to tell him that she would never shut him out, and that when the baby was born he could visit them at any time? She glanced at the suitcase, knowing that she would still call him when the birth was imminent, and even before that, to reassure him that she had enough money saved to support both herself and her baby until she could get a job. She had wanted to tell him about the wonderful crèche and primary school in her village. More than anything, she had wanted to tell Marco that she loved him. Regardless of what he thought of her, or what he was capable of feeling for her, she had wanted to tell him that.
Resting her face on her knees, she folded her arms over her head, as if that could shut out the world. Deep down, she knew it was too late. Marco had released his cold, empty side, and there would be no going back for him. She should have known that for a man who had achieved so much in life, Marco was hardly likely to allow any situation to stagnate, and that once he understood that she wanted more than he could give her, he had moved remorselessly forward, leaving her behind in his turbulent wake. That didn’t stop her loving him, or recollecting every single time he’d been warm, or funny, or sexy, or tender towards her. Love really did have no boundaries, she reflected as she clambered awkwardly to her feet.
She had a shower and found some clean clothes in the case. She called his office, but the same icy secretary took her call and assured her that she would pass a message on.
Cutting the call, she told herself that her leaving was the right decision for both of them. Marco belonged in Rome and she couldn’t stay with him, like a brood mare waiting to foal.
But if this were the right decision, why did she feel so empty?
Because there were no certainties in life, and because Marco had consistently refused to discuss the future. Of course she felt empty. She had no idea if she would ever see him again, but she was starting over and that was a good thing. The past had taken a bite out of them both, making it impossible to have a future going forward together. When their baby was born they would come to an agreement, but where their personal relationship was concerned...
There was no personal relationship, except in her head. She had been trying to get Marco to commit to a future he wanted no part of. It wasn’t like her to admit defeat, but this time she might have to. She doubted Marco would want any sort of life with her away from the privacy of his penthouse. He was probably glad she was going home. He could get on with his life now. She would call the head of the gardening team she had so much enjoyed being part of at the embassy in Rome on her way to the airport, and she would write to Maria and Giuseppe.
She froze as the front door swung open, but, as she should have known, it wasn’t Marco but his driver, Paolo.
‘Are you ready?’ Paolo asked with his usual warmth as he reached for her case.
‘Yes. Thank you.’ She took one last look around the echoing penthouse and wondered if she had ever felt so empty in her life, though Marco had done everything she’d asked for. He’d set her free so she could cut all ties with him for good.
* * *
He stood and watched the jet take off. He watched it until it had disappeared behind a cloud. He never stood watching people fly away. He had neither the time for it nor the inclination. But flying home was the right thing for Cassandra to do. It was right for both of them.
So why did it feel so wrong?
It was a swipe against his male pride? No woman had ever left him before, but Cassandra had made it quite clear that she wasn’t happy living with him in Rome.
Cassandra was different. She was pregnant, maybe with his child. That thought haunted him as he cut a path through the bustling terminal building. She would need consistent health care leading up to the birth, he reasoned, and she was right about getting on with her plans for the future.
Plans from which he was excluded.
Plans that he wanted no part of—not until he was sure. In the meantime, his people would watch her.
Was a second-hand report good enough for him?
It would have to be.
‘No comment!’ he snarled as the clustering paparazzi hounded him to the door.
Anticipating the fuss he’d create, Paolo had the car waiting for him with the engine running. He jumped in and they roared away. He glanced at the sky in the direction Cassandra’s jet had taken. He had never felt so conflicted. When she gave birth a simple DNA test would tell him everything he needed to know. No one, not even Cassandra, could bounce him into making a commitment, and even a positive DNA test didn’t point to a future where he committed his emotions to Cass and the baby. Financially, yes. She would have every support. But emotionally...