The Italian's Rightful Bride - By Lucy Gordon Page 0,47

got quietly out of the car, trying to keep their arrival a secret from the rest of the house. Inside, he didn’t switch on any lights, but stood looking at her face in the faint glow from the hall lamp. There was a question in his eyes, which she answered by laying her lips on his for a brief moment.

‘Come,’ she said, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs.

Nobody saw them as they passed quietly down the corridor to her room and closed the door behind them.

‘Don’t put the light on,’ he whispered. ‘We don’t need light.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘We don’t need anything but this.’

She stepped back and removed the gold from her ears.

‘Turn around,’ he said, and began to work at the clasp of her gold necklace. She felt the touch of his fingers, setting off soft tremors of desire that whispered across her heated skin. When he’d finished and put the necklace aside he laid his lips in the same place, making her shiver pleasurably.

‘Are you sure?’ he said softly.

Through the pounding of her blood she managed to say, ‘Yes,’ but he was already drawing down the zip at the back of her dress.

She turned swiftly, letting the dress fall about her ankles, opening her arms to him in welcome, eager for him in every way.

‘Oh, my love,’ she said. ‘Come to me. At last.’

It was Crystal’s mocking voice in his dreams that awoke him.

‘You need a rich wife, and there aren’t many who are richer than her.’

He’d rejected the words, but they’d lingered, just out of sight, and now they pounced on him, shocking him into wakefulness.

He turned his head slowly to where Joanna lay still asleep in the dawn light. Through the sheet covering her he could see the outline of her beautiful nakedness, offered to him last night with such tenderness one moment, and such fierce intensity the next. But lovelier still was the sight of her face, soft and vulnerable on the pillow.

A rich wife!

It was horrible but true. Last night, overcome by both his love and his desire, he’d managed to believe that the disparity between them was unimportant. But in the cold light of day he knew it mattered.

What could he say to her? Speak of love while concealing the financial truth? His soul revolted at the thought.

Or how about, ‘Marry me, and by the way I need some cash.’ She knew of his debts, but not the sudden crisis of Crystal’s demands. The truth would merely convince her that the past was repeating itself, and anything was better than that.

Throughout that long, passionate night he’d been awed by what he discovered in her. The warmth and generosity that were part of her everyday life also infused her love-making. Her gifts were bountiful, and in response his whole being, not just his body but also his spirit, had been given a release that thrilled him.

He’d been startled by the strength of his own feelings, so much more intense than his mild affection for her twelve years ago, and so much deeper than his infatuation for Crystal. But the bitter fact was that there was no honest way he could approach her.

He’d discovered the truth only when it was too late.

He slipped out of bed and put on his clothes, moving quietly. When he’d finished he came over and dropped to his knees beside the bed, his face close to hers. She lay just as before, her expression as gentle and trusting as a child’s. The kiss he placed on her forehead was so light that it didn’t awaken her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Try to forgive me.’

Joanna kept her eyes closed until the last minute, knowing that when she opened them the night would be over. What came next would be as sweet, or even sweeter, but nothing would ever quite equal that first revelation.

She had never stopped loving Gustavo for one moment. All this time she’d been deluding herself.

But now there needed to be no more delusions. She could love him freely, as he loved her. She didn’t doubt his love, not after last night. And she knew that, when she finally allowed herself to wake, she would see that love in his eyes, watching over her.

To prolong the moment she stretched out, letting her hand wander over the place where he should have been. Finding nothing there, she lay still a moment, then opened her eyes and sat up, surveying the room.

Apart from herself it was empty.

Something in her