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an ebony brow elevated just slightly. ‘If you recall, I will not be here to arrange anything. However-' he pushed back his chair and stood up in one fluid movement the very image of cool Italian sophistication a-give Stefano the details and he will make the travel arrangements. Now if you will excuse me I still have work to do before I leave for Madrid in the morning.'
How Milly got through the rest the meal and the ritual of helping Filomena get ready for bed while behaving as if she was perfectly happy she would never know.
Cesare had as good as looked through her she fretted as she reached the sanctuary of her own bedroom. Had not addressed her except to ask that clipped question. It hurt quite unbearably. She was hard put to reconcile his attitude over dinner with that of the man who had made glorious love to her, had asked her to be his wife.
Deciding to get up extra early, run him to earth and demand a few answers before he left in the morning, she had a quick shower brushed her teeth and climbed into bed wearing a baggy old T-shirt.
She felt too emotional to creep through the silent house to his office and demand answers now. Right now. Her pride wouldn't let her show him how insecure she felt.
He hadn't once said he loved her she reminded herself on a flood of nervy anxiety. Then told herself to grow up and swiftly assured herself that no man in his right mind would ask a woman to marry him, share his life and bear his children if he didn't love her and, anyway, he probably had a whole load of stuff on his mind to do with his up-and-coming extended business trip.
Too much stuff to give much thought to his fiancee when he would, with man-like pragmatism, consider enough had been said on the subject of what he felt for her to make emotional scenes and the display of female insecurities plain annoying. Make him think that she would prove to be a demanding wife whining and complaining when he put business first throwing a hissy-fit if he ever dared to be late home by as much as a single minute.
Reaching that sensible conclusion, she flicked off the bedside light and closed her eyes only to open them again almost immediately as the door opened and Cesare wearing a towelling robe was illuminated by the light from the broad passage behind before the door closed again and he was at the bedside breathing, ‘Forgive me, mi amore' He reached for her in the darkness pulling her into the circle of his arms.
‘I ignored you' he confessed rawly. ‘I couldn't look at you, talk to you, without aching to have you in my arms, to kiss you! I need you so much I would have given our secret away. Nonna may be old but she's far from stupid' He breathed in very deep, his lips against the side of her neck. 'say you forgive met'
'Anything! I forgive you anythingl' Melting against him, Milly slid her hands beneath his robe, her fingers splaying against the hard muscular planes of his chest breathing in the aphrodisiacal scent of warm male and a slightly tangy aftershave her head swimming dizzily on a wave of love and longing and annoyance with herself for feeling any insecurities whatsoever.
Immeasurably flattered because he'd admitted he couldn't look at her without betraying a primitive urge to make love to her her brain reeling with the knowledge of her feminine power, she lifted her head and put her soft mouth against his lips, very gently, and teased softly, 'Then I know what I must do to test your Mowers of endurance to the limit, don't I’
‘It is just as well I am to be away from the temptation of you while Nonna completes her recoveryl' And then he claimed her mouth with a passionate intensity that made her heart beat wildly and somehow his robe got lost in the vortex and her T-shirt went the same way as his tongue mated with hers with driven hunger until he reared away, flicking on the bedside light.
‘I need to look at you, amole mia. I need to feast my eyes,' he announced raggedly. He laid her back on the bed.
‘I need to touch.' His voice thickened. 'Here-' Reverent fingers brushed her tight nipples and her breath caught in roughened gasps as those same fingers stroked over the flat planes of her tummy, then lower. 'And here-' As his hand brushed through the golden curls at the apex of her thighs and discovered the aching, molten heat excitement had her writhing against him her every enticing movement begging him to take the burning ache for him away. As if he understood her uncontrollable hunger, he kissed her with such sweet tenderness she thought she might die from it and murmured softly, sallowly, mi amole.
Tonight I will take you to Paradise many times I promise you.'
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS POURING with rain and the flat felt damp and chilly. Shorn of the curtains and rugs, the brightly coloured cushions she'd bought one cold winter day in an attempt to make their home look more cheerful, the place looked what it was, drab and dingy.
Milly's throat tightened at the thought that her mother, living in pleasant, leafy suburban comfort while her husband had been alive, had been reduced to this during her final years. And all because of Jilly's wildly selfish schemes.
Surveying the assembled packing cases, Milly felt a stab of deep sadness they represented the sum total of her mother's life. Pathetically little.
She'd packed the remainder of Jilly's possessions and had taken the more respectable items of hers and her mother's clothing to a charity shop and even now removal men were taking the packing cases and furniture into storage because at some time in the future Jilly might need some of it if she returned to set up home in England and she felt bad about disposing of everything without consulting Jilly first.
That was if her sister ever turned up! She didn't know what she felt most, anger at her twin for her less than honest behaviour and her blithe disregard for her family, or deepening anxiety at her mysterious disappearance.
Whatever- She turned from the window and the unprepossesing view of the rain-soaked high street and the top of the removal van parked outside the butcher's shop and went to the poky apology for a kitchen to brew tea for the removal men. Fretting about her twin wouldn't solve anything.
At least yesterday, the day of Cleo's wedding, had been warm and sunny. Her friend had looked beautiful and the groom proud enough to bust a gut she recalled determined to think of something cheerful .
Besides she would be returning to Italy tomorrow after overnighters at an airport hotel and soon now, very soon, she would be seeing Cesare again.
Her spirits soared. She'd missed him so much, but soon the waiting would be over. After his departure, in the weeks before she'd returned to England, he'd phoned the villa twice a week to speak to his grandmother and ask after her state of health and on a couple of occasions she'd been able to speak to him herself and those conversations had been heartwarmingly precious.
She poured tea into mugs and set them on a tray. Cesare had even gone to the trouble of setting up a credit account for her use which was really generous of him because they weren't yet married.
She was merely his secret fiancee though she'd been hard put to keep quiet especially as Cleo had done a lot of probing over what she called the ‘blackmailing Italian guy.'
She'd longed to state that he was completely wonderful and soon to be her husband.
Only her promise to Cesare to keep their plans secret had kept her from confiding her wonderful news.
But Filomena was now as good as new. Or so the old lady had affirmed when Milly phoned her a couple of days ago. Already she was directing a major overhaul of the long herbaceous border and was anxious for Milly's return and her horticultural input. So that meant there would be no further delay on Cesare divulging their wedding plans! Her stomach flipped with electrifying excitement. He was all she could ever want and then some.
