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‘Justina—’
‘No. Please, Dante. I promise I will give you reasonable access to your son, but no more than that. I won’t marry you—but that doesn’t mean we can’t be good parents.’ At this she stopped and drew in a deep breath which seemed to scorch her lungs, before managing a smile. ‘And I don’t see any reason why we can’t continue to have a perfectly amicable relationship.’
There was a long pause—so long that for a moment she wondered if he’d heard her. But one look at the expression on his face told her that he had. His features seemed to have been carved from stone; they were hard and unmoving. The silence in the room was tense as Justina waited to see how he would respond—and she was surprised when he walked over to her and caught hold of her, pulling her into his body in a single fluid movement. Through her silk robe she could feel the jut of her breasts pushing against his chest, and instantly she felt an inevitable rush of desire which was quickly followed by a hot wave of relief. He didn’t mind! He understood her reservations!
For a moment he stared down at her, and his hand moved down over the fall of her hair before coming to alight on one silk-covered breast. She sucked in a breath of anticipation.
‘And this “amicable” relationship of which you speak,’ he murmured. ‘You don’t think that’s going to be problematic?’
She spoke with more conviction than she felt. ‘It doesn’t have to be.’
‘Do you have any ideas about how we’re going to go about it?’
‘We could...we could make it up as we go along.’
‘Could we?’ His smile was cold. ‘So how about we start with something like this?’
He slipped his hand inside her robe to cover the breast which had been straining for his touch. She felt his thumb flick over the nipple and she swallowed.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, scarcely able to get the word out. ‘Yes.’
‘So while we are being good parents, and being reasonable about access, we will continue to enjoy sex—is that what you are suggesting?’
His tone was a honeyed murmur, even if his words sounded a little on the bald side. ‘Yes,’ she repeated. ‘Definitely.’
His thumb caressed one straining bud. ‘You want to do it now, I think?’
Justina swayed. ‘You know I do,’ she moaned.
The hand was removed with almost clinical efficiency, and Justina didn’t even realise that she’d had her eyes closed until she fluttered them open to see the look of naked fury on his face.
‘You really think that I would tolerate an arrangement like that? To be treated like some common stud? In your dreams, Justina,’ he said savagely, and walked out of their bedroom with a soft slamming of the door.
For a moment she stood staring blankly after him, until she realised she was shivering, so she climbed into bed and waited for him to return. It took several sleepless hours before it dawned on her that that he wasn’t planning on returning. At least not until after a pale dawn had streaked the Tuscan sky and she’d finished tending to Nico.
Dante walked into the room wearing the same formal trousers he’d had on at dinner, and he had clearly just pulled his dress shirt on over his bare chest, though he hadn’t bothered to do it up. His feet were bare, too—and his dark hair was ruffled and untidy.
‘Where have you been?’ she questioned tiredly.
He gave her a look composed in equal measures of ice and fury. ‘Where do you think? We’re in the middle of the Tuscan countryside—there aren’t really a lot of options open! I slept somewhere else, Justina—there are plenty of available rooms.’
She swallowed, telling herself to stay calm. That nothing could be gained from another angry exchange. ‘Why did you storm out like that?’
‘Why?’ he repeated, a look of incredulity darkening his face. ‘You really need to ask me that? I asked you to marry me and you said no—but your refusal came with an interesting suggestion.’ He gave a bitter laugh before he shot the words out as if he was firing them from a pistol. ‘Don’t you think it insults me that I’m good enough to service you any time you want, good enough to be your stud, just not good enough to be your husband?’
For a moment Justina’s resolve wavered. She wanted to blurt out the truth. To tell him that marriage without love wasn’t enough, and she was terrified her heart would get broken all over again. But that might sound like a clumsy attempt at emotional bargaining. He might feel cornered into telling her he loved her in order to appease her—and then what? Wouldn’t something like that backfire on them in the end?
She pushed her hair behind her ears and surveyed him, her calm expression belying the painful thunder of her heart. ‘So what are we going to do?’
‘Do?’ He pulled off his shirt and hung it over the back of the chair. ‘We’re going to do exactly what we came here to do. We are going to introduce Nico to the rest of his D’Arezzo family and show him a little Tuscan hospitality and then we will return to England.’
And that, it seemed, was that. End of subject.
Justina was forc
ed to watch as Dante took off his trousers and his underpants. She wanted to avert her eyes as more and more honed olive flesh was revealed, but pride wouldn’t let her. Only when he was completely and magnificently naked did he glance up and meet her gaze, his dark eyes mocking her.
‘Frustrating, isn’t it, tesoro? You can look, but you can’t touch.’
