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‘No?’ He arched a brow. ‘What are you doing, then?’
Erin drew a deep startled breath and stiffened when without warning his long brown fingers brushed her skin as they slid into the neckline of her shirt.
The contact sizzled like a flame fizzing along her nerve endings all the way down to her curling toes. She closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring in response to the male scent of his warm body so close now that all she had to do was lean forward and their bodies would be touching.
She wanted that contact so much that it was a physical pain. She wanted to feel his hands on her, his mouth.
She had begun to sway towards him when she heard him say. ‘Why do you wear this?’
Her eyelids felt heavy as she forced her eyes open and, blinking in a bemused fashion, she focused on his lean dark face so close to her own that she could see the fine mesh of lines that radiated from the corners of his incredible eyes. ‘What? I.’
Then she saw it.
The gold ring still warm from her skin resting in the palm of his cupped hand. The heat of arousal drained from her body.
Francesco’s expression was inscrutable as he stared at the circlet of gold on his palm, still warm from its hiding place in the valley between her breasts.
His eyes darkened and a muscle alongside his sensually sculpted mouth clenched as he recalled how perfectly her breast fitted into that same palm.
‘Why did you not throw it away? Surely it represents a memory that can give you no pleasure?’
Francesco did not attempt to stop her as she snatched the ring from his hand and drew back a clenched fist pressed to her chest. Her angry eyes held his defiantly as she allowed it to slide back into its hiding place between her breasts and then fastened the top two buttons of her blouse.
‘I keep it as a reminder, just in case the unthinkable happens and I suffer another bout of temporary insanity and even consider getting married again.’
‘You are married.’
Her eyes dropped from the anger in his. ‘I need time to think, Francesco.’
‘There is nothing to think about—a child needs two parents.’
As she moved towards the door so did Francesco, his intention obviously to cut her off. She might have reached it before him if the strap of the bag she had looped around her neck hadn’t got caught up on a heavy ormolu clock that took pride of place on a console table.
As she was pulled backwards, half strangled by the strap around her neck, her elbow caught a large vase filled with water and before it shattered noisily it managed to tip its contents all over Francesco.
It was the look of shock on his face as he stood there with water dripping from his drenched shirt and trousers onto the floor that drew the laugh from Erin’s throat and once she had started she couldn’t stop. The laughter gradually morphed into sobs, tears ran unchecked down her cheeks as the deep racking sobs; shook her entire body.
‘Per amor di Dio!’ Francesco groaned, his face contorted as though in pain as he watched her.
Erin did not resist as he gently removed the leather strap from her neck, but when he tried to drag her into his arms she shook her head and pulled back, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand.
‘You’re right. I was running away.’ She realised that Francesco had been right about a lot of things.
‘That is understandable under the circumstances,’ he observed.
Erin was inclined to view his sudden tolerance with suspicion. Her eyes lifted, and for a moment the sheer sensational beauty of Francesco’s face took her breath away. It wasn’t just the perfect symmetry he had been blessed with, but the intelligence, authority and sensuality stamped on his features that made him totally devastating.
His dark eyes dropped, his thick lashes casting dark shadows across his cheekbones as he placed a hand on her belly. She could feel the warmth of his strong fingers through the thin layers of clothing.
‘There is a growing life inside you, Erin.’
Her throat aching with the emotional tears locked there, she nodded.
‘A life we made. You will be a good mother.’
‘I hope so.’ One word of praise from him and I’m glowing … Oh, God, she thought despairingly, I’m hopeless.
‘You would give your life for our child.’ His fingers tightened fractionally across her abdomen.
