a severe look at the shop assistant. She would rather take cyanide than accept this from Ben. She was raw on the inside from her mother’s barbs and his persistence was rubbing salt into the exposed flesh.
‘And do not call me darling,’ she snapped, and stormed out of the shop.
‘Katya.’
She heard him calling her name but she was too angry to stop. Visions of the trinkets her mother’s suitors had bought her flashed before her eyes. She remembered how exhausted she’d been each night, looking after four little ones while her mother had been out. She remembered Sophia dreadful inconsolable screams as the fire had scorched her skin. They reverberated around her head as she hurried away, they followed her now as they had haunted her for so many years.
She could hear her breath coming in short sharp gasps as she remembered the horror of that day and the crippling panic that had gripped her as her eleven-year-old brain had struggled with the enormity of what had happened. Images she’d thought she’d conquered a long time ago bombarded her as she walked blindly through the piazza, Ben’s voice following her.
‘Katya.’ He caught up, grabbing her arm and halting her.
‘Let go of me,’ she yelled, blinking back tears she hadn’t even known had formed.
Ben held onto her shoulders as she struggled against him. Something was really wrong, she was really upset. He’d never seen her tearful. ‘Hey, hey, what’s wrong? I’m sorry, OK? You seemed so taken with it. Don’t worry about it, it’s no big deal.’
She moved close to him, her heart hammering, her chest heaving. ‘It is to me,’ she said, her voice steely.
She saw the confusion and concern on his face. She could tell he was puzzled by her reaction. Hell, she was puzzled by it. One phone call from her mother and she was eleven years old again! But this was important.
Ben was relieved that she’d stopped trying to resist but he could still feel the tension in her shoulders. His fingers gently massaged the flesh coaxing her to relax. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly.
‘I can buy my own jewellry.’
He nodded at her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. He watched her watch him, her gaze assessing, as if she was searching for the truth in his statement. And then he felt her finally let go and her shoulders sagged against his hands.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
Ben gave her a tender smile as piazza life careened all around them. The sun beat down, locals strolled, tourists snapped photos and shopkeepers touted for trade, but they were oblivious, locked in their own little bubble.
He pulled her gently towards him, half expecting her to resist, but she went without argument and he tucked her against him. She felt good against him - too good - and he wished for a moment that he hadn’t done it. But instinct told him it was the right thing to do.
Katya Petrova was a complicated woman. A deceptive woman. There were layers beneath her prickly surface that obviously ran deep. Holding her close, his heart thudding loudly in his ears, he realised he wanted to explore them. To understand what made her tick, what had made her the woman she was today. What had happened to cause such a meltdown just now? Would she let him in and why did he suddenly care so much?
Katya breathed deeply, inhaling his scent. He smelt like man, like Ben, and she remembered vividly how good it was to be held intimately by him. It was crazy, she couldn’t buy into it, but for this moment, as her heartbeat settled down again, it was heavenly.
Soon she would have to pull away and repair the damage she’d done with her little performance. God knew what he thought. And she was going to have to tell him about the baby. Not right now, but soon.
She didn’t want to leave it for weeks and weeks now she’d made up her mind. He had a right to know and as soon as she told him, there wouldn’t be anything to hide from him anymore. She didn’t believe in deception, had seen way too much of it growing up, and he couldn’t accuse her of a hidden agenda once the truth was out.
‘We’d better get back,’ Katya said, breaking the embrace.
They both turned towards the clinic and began to make their way in its direction.
‘You want to come with me to my villa this weekend?’ Ben asked. ‘We can go out on The Mermaid.’
She