had been different. Alive, sparkling…unutterably sweet, and honest, with a dry wit he’d found remarkably refreshing. No hidden agenda, and equally at ease with his high-powered lifestyle. She’d taught him to lighten up, to laugh a little…and to love with his heart, his soul.
He’d proposed, gifted her his ring, for marriage had been a given…just a matter of organising a day, a time.
Her accidental pregnancy had delighted him, precipitating the wedding. But the unforeseen miscarriage had been followed soon after by Sierra’s damnably false innuendos…and Gianna had slipped to a place where he’d been unable to reach her.
‘Sleep,’ he bade her gently, and he watched her lashes drift down.
‘You should leave.’
He pressed a light kiss to her temple and nestled her close in against him. ‘Later.’
Except it was she who stirred in the early pre-dawn hours to the light trail of his mouth as he nuzzled the hollow at the base of her throat. She who uttered little protest as he made love to her again…a slow, gentle loving that was all her pleasure, after which he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the en suite bathroom, where he shared her shower, teasing her with the soap before gifting it to her to return the favour.
Which she did, so caught up in the thrall of him and what they’d shared that she refused to think.
This…this was heaven. The beautiful aftermath of good sex. Very good sex. Intimacy at its most rapturous, when the heart was gloriously alive…and free from intrusive thought.
If only it could remain like this, Gianna pondered a trifle wistfully. To be able to go back to the place before it all went wrong…to view it from a different mind-set and avoid the pain and bitterness.
A hollow laugh rose and died in her throat.
So much for not thinking.
‘Don’t,’ Raúl chided gently.
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘It’s impossible not to.’
He caught hold of her chin and tilted it so she had no recourse but to meet the darkness in his eyes. ‘There has never been anyone since you. No one.’
No one? Not even…
Dared she believe him…trust him? At the time of their marriage she would have given an unequivocal yes.
Now, even discounting Sierra’s damning words to the contrary, it seemed almost impossible to comprehend a man with Raúl’s sexual energy could remain celibate for such a long period of time.
There were so many layers to remove to reach the kernel of truth, she perceived.
Sex…even very good sex…did little more than temporarily paper over the cracks.
Which brought forth the question…had she been wrong three years ago? So distressed and emotionally traumatised that she’d chosen to believe Sierra’s accounting instead of trusting Raúl?
It was something she’d agonised over countless times, only to reach the same conclusion…logic in favour of an unlikely truth.
Did she possess the nous, the courage, to confront Sierra and shoot down each and every purported fact…and verify it as fallacy?
She had the rest of her life in front of her…a successful business, a pleasant apartment, a good lifestyle.
All of which she’d trade in a heartbeat…
Oh, God.
She closed her eyes, counted to ten, then slowly opened them again.
Don’t let intimacy cloud an important issue, she cautioned herself silently as Raúl released her and closed the water dial.
With ease he caught up a towel and hitched it at his waist, then he filched another and gently blotted the moisture from her body.
Towelled dry, he drew her into the bedroom, straightened the covers, then slid beneath them and gathered her in.
The remembered closeness of being held like this…the soft drift of his fingers as they trailed her spine…the way one hand cupped her head and the slide of his lips to her forehead…it was like coming home to a place where her body instinctively knew it belonged.
CHAPTER NINE
GIANNA drifted awake, reluctant to leave what she perceived to be an exquisite dream, only to fail as she became slowly aware of her sprawled position in the bed when she usually woke curled on her side.
She yawned, stretched a little…and felt the sexual pull deep within. For a brief moment she stilled, then groaned.
Raúl.
Ohmigod, they hadn’t…
She lifted her head and saw the empty space he’d occupied, became aware the scent of his cologne still lingered and weathered the memory, in detail, of what had transpired through the night.
Hell.
The time? She picked up her watch and did a double-take to see it was almost nine.
She never slept in—well, let’s qualify that. She hadn’t had reason to sleep late for a long