Parties during their marriage had been spent not just trying to be invisible but feeling invisible to Domenico. It wasn’t that he’d left her to fend for herself, more that he’d never felt the need to draw her into conversations, had been content for her to hang by his side like a forgotten appendage. Tonight, he pulled her to the fore, keeping her hand firmly in his or an arm around her waist, making sure she was included in everything, translating when needed, and always ensuring she had a glass of water to sip on. And when she caught his eye…
It no longer felt like it used to, like he was looking through her. When Domenico looked at her now, it felt like he was seeing the whole of her. There were even times when their eyes locked, and the longing she just could not shake for him seemed to be mirrored in his stare. She thought she’d seen that longing in the changing room earlier, that spellbinding moment when it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. That little kiss he’d placed on her neck…she could still feel the mark of his lips on her skin. Still feel the flush of heat that had followed it.
She’d experienced another, deeper, flush of heat when she’d left her dressing room and found him waiting for her on the bedroom sofa. She could spend a thousand years with Domenico and never become inured to his masculine beauty, but there were times when she looked at him and the effect was like a bolt of lightning straight into her heart. Tonight had been one such time, and when their eyes had finally fused and she’d seen the pulse resonating from his…
For the first time in her life, Marnie had felt not just beautiful but desirable. The bolt in her heart had spread in a flush of heat so strong that it had taken all her strength not to throw herself into his arms.
‘How are you feeling?’ he murmured into her ear when the group they’d been talking to headed onto the makeshift dance floor.
It seemed like everyone was now on the dance floor, even the hosts’ tearaway children, who’d snuck out of their bedrooms and had been spotted minesweeping the empty glasses. Marnie remembered doing that once, as a small child. Her dad had still been there then. She’d got out of bed early and found an empty bottle of alcohol she now knew was vodka and two glasses on the coffee table. One of the glasses had still been half full. She’d drunk it all and then spent the day vomiting and feeling wretched. It had taken two decades for her to get even a little bit drunk again. That had been the day their decree nisi had come through.
It had been the first time since she’d left him that she’d been unable to ignore the depth of her misery without him. All the pretence she’d shrouded herself in had stripped away, and suddenly it hadn’t mattered that leaving him had been a necessity, not when the pain of living without him had become so terrifyingly acute. And so she’d bought that bottle of wine, fully understanding for the first time why her mother had sought consolation in the bottom of a bottle, and for the first time allowed herself to rage and grieve at the loss of her dreams and the loss of the man she’d built her world around.
And then he’d knocked on her door, and the child growing safely in her belly had been conceived.
Was it possible, she asked herself for the first time, that Domenico had come to her that night because he’d been experiencing similar feelings…? Had he felt her loss like she’d felt his…?
Her heart suddenly thumping hard, she lifted her gaze to his. He was still looking at her. Still looking at her as if she meant something to him.
Was it really possible, she wondered dazedly. Being invisible and forgettable was so deeply ingrained that she’d never considered the possibility of Domenico missing her and…dare she even think it…? developing feelings for her…
Close to choking on emotion, she had to swallow to truthfully say, ‘I’m feeling better than I have in a long time.’
Sensuous lips curving, he gently traced the rim of her ear. ‘You’re enjoying yourself?’
Shivers of sensation danced through her, and she squeezed the fingers entwined through hers and nodded. ‘Can we dance?’
The words had come out before she knew she was going to say them, but the longing that accompanied them was as impossible to deny as her longing for him. They’d danced together only once, at their wedding reception. It had been a token dance to an upbeat song. She’d watched Domenico dance at his parties many times before they married, but other than that token dance, never while they were married. He’d avoided the dance floor until she’d left him.
Why was that? Why had he been so reluctant to take her into his arms for a simple dance? Had it evenbeenreluctance? And why had she never askedhimto dance? Why had she been so content to let him take the lead on every single aspect of their marriage?
As all these thoughts and questions flew through her head, his jaw clenched and flexed, and his eyes briefly closed before fixing back on hers. With a tug of his hand, he led her through the dancing bodies to the last available space on the floor and stiffly drew her to him.
Chapter Ten
DOMENICO’S HEART WASbeating impossibly hard. All evening, he’d worked hard to block out the effect Marnie was having on him. It was an effect he’d been trying to block since he’d left her in the boutique’s changing room, and now, with only his shirt separating her warm cheek from his chest and the softness of her blond hair brushing beneath his chin, it was taking all his control not to squeeze her tightly to him.
She just felt so damned good to hold. Smelt so damned good, too. Better than good. Holding her in his arms at night was torturous, but to feel her hot body swaying against his, the crush of her breasts, the gentle curve of her hips, to know one movement of his leg would lock their groins together…
He clenched his teeth even as he gave into temptation and palmed his hand up the length of her naked back and dove his fingers into her long hair. It all felt like the finest silk.
He could hardly breathe. The hot, thick desire that had been a constant battle to suppress these last few days was unfurling at a speed he couldn’t control, and when Marnie lifted her face and her wide eyes locked on his, he knew she’d felt the ridge of his arousal against her abdomen. It was impossible to ascertain their colour. He could only see the pulse he knew must be mirrored in his own stare.
Domenico sustained the torture for three more tracks, until a commotion caused by the hosts’ unruly children being frogmarched back to their rooms provided a natural break, and he released his hold around her and finally took in a breath of air that wasn’t laced with her heady perfume.
The rest of the night passed in a blur, Domenico torn between aching for Marnie to tell him she was ready to call it a night and praying for her not to.
He had to get a grip on himself. Making love to her was out of the question, even if he was finding it impossible to stop himself from touching her, a need that had nothing to do with proving his newfound attentiveness. He could barely comprehend the depth of his need to justtouchher, never mind all the other impossible feelings coursing through him, and for the first time he was forced to acknowledge it wasn’t just fear of hurting her fragile body that was holding him back from making love to her. All these hot, heady feelings…Dio, his need for her.
He’d needed her that night. Anger and wounded pride hadn’t been the only driving forces taking him to her. He’d needed her. Needed to justseeher, and then all those feelings had exploded, and it had turned into the most incredible night of his life.
Dio, his feelings for her were a hot mess and growing messier by the second. And stronger. It felt like he was clinging on by his fingertips without knowing what he was clinging onto.
The internal fight continued on the drive home. Bodies only inches apart, fingers laced tightly together, the only sound in their cocoon was the roar of blood whooshing in Domenico’s ears, his thoughts all coalesced around how the hell he was going to climb beneath the bed sheets with her and keep his damned hands to himself.
He would keep his damned hands to himself by turning himself into stone. It was the only way. Envisage himself as being made of granite. No. Diamond. Diamonds were impermeable.
Closing the door to her bedroom, he turned his thoughts into diamonds as well, but when he looked at her, he was unable to blur her beautiful face.
