Happy Mother's Day! - By Sharon Kendrick Page 0,108

…’

‘I blame me!’ he blurted out.

A look of total bewilderment crossed her face. ‘You?’ she echoed. ‘Why should you feel blame?’

‘Why?’ He stared down at her incredulously. ‘How can you ask that? If I had not put you in a position where you felt you had to run away from me the accident would never have happened. If you or the baby had been harmed it would have been my fault.’

‘That’s the craziest logic I’ve ever heard. It was an accident. I tripped …’ She suddenly laughed as the irony hit. ‘My God, I’ve been lying here thinking you’re blaming me and you’ve been blaming yourself … You know, it’s actually quite funny when you think about it.’

Francesco’s expression did not suggest he saw the funny side. ‘I don’t seem to be able to stop the people I care for getting hurt.’

People …? Things suddenly slipped into place. So that was

it!

‘I fell, Francesco. You didn’t push me, the same way you didn’t make Rafe take his life.’

Erin heard the sibilant hiss of his sharp intake of breath. His head came up and his dark eyes locked with hers.

‘Some things in life even you don’t have any control over,’ she told him softly. ‘I know that’s pretty hard for a control freak like yourself to accept,’ she teased gently, ‘but.’

‘You think you know me so well.’

The smile faded from her face. ‘Sometimes I don’t think I know you at all,’ she admitted huskily as she looked at the enigma who was her husband.

‘I’m an open book.’

This claim made Erin laugh. ‘You’re the most complicated, contradictory man I’ve ever met.’

‘After twenty years of marriage you’ll find me boring and predictable.’

‘Do you think we’ll still be together in twenty years?’

Her unthinking exclamation shattered the intimacy of the moment. ‘You are thinking in the short term?’

‘Well, it seems a good idea to take things one day at a time.’

His expression was remote and forbidding; it was clear her response was not one he liked. Francesco picked up his jacket from the back of a chair and nodded in her general direction.

‘You need your sleep.’

She was suddenly loath to see him walk out of the door. What if he never comes back? The irrational thought just popped into her head and she said the first thing that came into her head—unfortunately it concerned milky drinks.

‘I could ask the nurse to get us a drink of cocoa, or something else if you prefer.’

‘Cocoa?’

The mortified colour rushed to her cheeks.

She had never felt more ridiculous in her life. Francesco could hardly be unfamiliar with women who offered him inducements to stay around, but she would have bet none of them had ever tried to entice him with a cup of cocoa!

‘Good night, Erin.’

Erin had arrived at the hospital in an ambulance. She left in a helicopter.

They flew straight to the airport where they waited in the VIP lounge.

Erin did not have much time to avail herself of the facilities before it was time for them to board the Romanelli private jet.

It all felt surreal to Erin. She suspected she ought to be feeling more outrage at the extravagance. She actually had a sneaking suspicion it would be disturbingly easy to get used to this sort of luxury.

‘I feel like royalty or a Hollywood star or something,’ she said, pushing her leather seat into full recline position and spinning around.

Francesco watched her with an indulgent smile. ‘You’ll make yourself dizzy.’

Erin, who was already dizzy, stopped spinning. It occurred to her that he must be contrasting her childish antic unfavourably with those of his worldly friends.

‘I wonder if I’ll ever be able to do a convincing sophisticated?’

‘If by sophisticated you mean artificial, I sincerely hope not.’ She leaned forward and planted her elbows on the table that was between them. ‘I suppose I mean elegant.’

‘Elegance is good, but then so is spontaneity and enthusiasm.’ She levelled a finger at her chest. ‘Me?’ ‘Definitely you.’

‘I’d prefer to look like Audrey Hepburn.’ Francesco laughed.

‘It probably makes me very shallow, but having sampled it I’ve decided this is the only way to travel,’ she confessed guiltily.

‘Have I said … you look very beautiful today?’

She slid a not quite steady hand down the bodice of her sleeveless dress. The deceptively modest rounded neckline was cut low enough to reveal the upper curves of her breasts, which was probably why it had sat in her wardrobe unworn. The biascut skirt of soft voile fitted nicely over her small bump and flared around her calves