make more sense.
Already he looked forward to the morning, but for more reasons than that alone. Because come the new day the woman beside him would awaken and they would have sex again. Come the new day she might be feeling better and more in the mood for talking.
Surely then she would remember to tell him about the baby.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SHE WOKE IN his arms feeling sad, but better than she had in weeks. Warm, cossetted and maybe even a little loved. For it would be nice to think Alesander loved her, just a little, after she was gone. Because last night had proved one thing to her, and that was that she loved him.
He’d helped her feel alive when all she’d felt was numb. He’d shown her that after death, life went on. He’d given her a gift of life-affirming sex gift-wrapped in his tenderness, and she loved him all the more for it.
Leaving him would kill her, but she would have the memory of their lovemaking to keep her warm at night.
She woke wanting to make love again, knowing there would not be many more times, but he gently put her away, kissing her on the forehead and telling her that he didn’t want her to overdo it, and he would make breakfast for her. Confused and a little hurt, she wondered if already he was withdrawing, in preparation for her leaving.
Then, all during breakfast—while she sat and ate the omelette he’d insisted on making for her—he seemed to be watching her, almost as if he were waiting for something. Was it that she was leaving or did he worry she might suddenly collapse in a heap again? Was that the reason for his sudden care?
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, putting down her knife and fork when she caught him looking sideways at her again.
‘I don’t know,’ he said disingenuously. ‘I just wondered if there’s something you wanted to tell me.’
She blinked. ‘Like what?’
‘Oh, who can say?’ he said, the corners of his mouth turning up. ‘Can you think of anything you might be keeping from me that maybe you should share? That I might be interested in hearing? A secret, perhaps?’
A chill descended her spine.
Surely he couldn’t know.
Not that. There was no way he could know that.
They’d barely spoken in the last month and she hadn’t said anything last night in the depths of passion. Had she? ‘I don’t have any secrets.’
‘None? Nothing at all to tell me?’
Nothing that you would want to hear.
‘I can understand you might be nervous about telling me,’ he said, and all the while she was thinking, He knows. ‘I know I’ve warned you enough times, but I’d like to think our relationship has changed. I don’t want you to think there is anything you can’t share with me.’
She swallowed, both nervous and excited in case it meant he felt the same way. Could it be possible? Had Alesander fallen in love with her too? The way he had treated her last night made her want to believe it. And the way he was looking at her now made her think it might even be possible.
He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. ‘You don’t have to be nervous,’ he prompted. ‘You can tell me.’
‘Well,’ she said, her heart hammering in her chest, trying to find the courage to tell him the truth. ‘Maybe there is one thing.’
He smiled encouragingly. ‘I thought so. What is it?’
His fingers were warm and reassuring around her hand, his eyes dark with promise and so she relaxed and smiled. ‘Then I guess it’s time you knew. Alesander, I love you.’
A blank stare met her confession. ‘What?’
He shook his head. ‘Isn’t there something else? I thought you were going to tell me about the baby. When were you going to tell me about the baby?’
‘The baby? There is no baby.’
He dropped her hand. ‘But I heard you tell Felipe …’
Oh God. And she had just told him that she loved him. ‘You were there?’
‘Of course I was there. The nurses called me—told me it was close. And I heard you. You told Felipe you were pregnant, that we were having a child. You told him you were going to call it Felipe. I heard you!’
‘Alesander …’ she swallowed ‘… you have to understand—’
He spun out of his chair, strode away across the room, raking the fingers of one hand through his hair, his other on his hip. ‘Damn it, you said it. Why the hell would