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It was late and the villa was swathed in darkness, everyone hopefully in bed. Rafael intended to creep quietly to his bedroom and avoid Allegra altogether. He’d barely taken a step before he heard a creak on the stair and then he turned to see Allegra standing there.
Her hair was tumbled about her shoulders and she wore a silky white slip of a nightgown that left frustratingly little to the imagination. Already desire was surging through him, and he wondered if he could make this simple. If he could make it about sex.
Then she took a step forward, one pale, slender hand held out in appeal. ‘Rafael,’ she said softly, and he tensed because there was no supplication in her voice. No accusation. There was just warmth. Acceptance. He turned away.
‘I thought you’d be asleep.’
‘I’ve been waiting for you.’
‘You didn’t even know I was coming back tonight.’
‘I know.’ She let out a soft, sad laugh. ‘I’ve been waiting since you left, Rafael. A whole week.’
His chest felt tight and he tried to shake the feeling off. ‘You shouldn’t have.’
‘Why not? Why are you pushing me away?’
‘Why aren’t you pushing me away?’ The words burst out of him, revealing, and yet he couldn’t keep himself from it. He turned to her, his voice ragged, his gaze burning. ‘Why are you still here?’
She looked hurt, shocked. ‘Do you want me to leave?’
‘No.’ He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Something felt broken deep inside him and he couldn’t articulate what it was, even to himself. ‘I’m getting a drink.’
He stalked into the lounge, and after a taut moment Allegra followed him. Rafael poured himself a large measure of whisky from the crystal decanter and drank it down in one healthy swallow. He could feel Allegra’s presence behind him. He could feel her confusion and hurt. ‘You should go back to bed.’
He heard a sound, something he couldn’t quite identify. She was moving or opening something, and he didn’t know what it was. He stayed with his back to her, willing her to leave him alone even as a deeper part of him ached for her to stay.
Then he heard the first sorrowful note hover in the room, steal into his soul, and shocked blazed through him. She was playing the cello.
He turned slowly, his glass dangling from his slack fingertips as he took in the sight of Allegra, her hair tumbling about her shoulders in a fiery halo, her expression serious and intent as she drew the bow across the strings of the cello and another sonorous note flowed through the room.
‘But...’ His voice was hoarse, breaking the stillness. ‘You said you didn’t play. Hadn’t played for ten years.’
Her gaze lifted and something deep in him trembled at the expression in her eyes, silvery and huge, clear and full of sadness. Full of love.
‘I haven’t. But I want to play for you, Rafael. Music...’ She paused, her voice choking. ‘Music has been the greatest comfort to me. And I don’t know of any other way to comfort you.’
She bent her head again and began to play once more, the notes sure and true and piercingly beautiful.
Rafael’s throat thickened with emotion and he sank into the sofa as the music washed over him, note after perfect note, the music haunting and powerful, breaking him. He was broken inside, nothing but jagged pieces, his heart a handful of splinters. He let out a sound, a choking cry that would have shamed him if he hadn’t felt so overwhelmed.
Allegra kept playing, each note touching his soul, undoing him. He let out another choked sound, and then Allegra was kneeling there in front of him, her arms around him, her face pressed against his chest as she whispered words that felt like sweet, sweet arrows, piercing the armour he’d surrounded himself with for so long.
‘I love you, Rafael. I love you. Nothing matters to me but that. But you. Please believe me. Please.’
He let out a groan, defenceless against the onslaught of her heartfelt words. ‘How can you love me...?’ The words spilled from him, heedless.
‘How can I not?’ She pressed her lips against her jaw. ‘I fell in love with you the night of my father’s funeral.’
