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She busied herself in the kitchen. Best cups. Best coffee. Some outrageously expensive chocolate biscuits she had once been given and which there had never been a right time to open. Before now.
She spooned coffee into the cafetiére and stared sightlessly out of the window. Would she ever have agreed to this arrangement if she had known that the inevitable parting would prove so painful?
When she carried the tray back into the sitting room he was half sitting, half lying on the sofa watching her, and her heart leapt as it always did at the sight of him.
‘Smells good,’ he remarked.
‘Mmm.’ She wished he would say something, other than make those bland comments which could have come from a stranger, and not the man who had shared her life for the past fortnight. She handed him a cup and then took her own over to the opposite side of the room and placed it on a small table beside her.
The distance between them seemed to be the size of a tennis court.
‘Kate,’ he said suddenly. ‘Come and sit next to me.’
Her eyes narrowed and she felt the lurch of disappointment. Physical closeness meant only one thing where they were concerned. ‘There isn’t time, Giovanni,’ she told him dully, unprepared for the tightening of his mouth in response.
‘You think that the only reason I want you beside me is so that I can make love to you one more time before I go!’ he accused hotly. ‘Is that it?’
‘There’s no need to sound so outraged! That’s what it always does mean where you’re concerned!’ she told him. ‘And we’ve hardly been behaving like saints for the last couple of weeks, have we?’
‘No.’ He put his coffee down untouched, and got up to look out of the window, his hands thrust deep inside his pockets as he stared out at the river which was made silvery-grey by the rain today.
Kate watched the tense set of his shoulders and then he turned round, his face looking as though he was fighting some kind of inner war with himself.
‘It doesn’t have to be over you know, Kate.’
It was her wildest dream become glorious reality. ‘What do you mean?’ she questioned slowly, and her heart seemed to deafen her with its pounding.
‘You know that I come back to England from time to time?’ Kate stilled as his words began to make immediate sense.
‘Go on,’ she said in a strangled kind of voice. ‘Explain exactly what it is I think you’re suggesting.’
He was trying to think logically about what would work best. For both of them. He gave a slow smile, captivating her with that mocking blue stare. ‘I can make sure that business brings me here on Friday—maybe I could stay over until Sunday. Here, with you.’ The smile grew lazier. ‘How does that sound, cara?’
She thought of snatched weekends of bliss with him. Perfect, but never enough. It never could be enough. She would be transformed into one of those bloodless women who lived their whole lives from phone call to phone call. The odd visit would dominate her life, until the rest of it grew indistinct and she would become one of those ‘nearly’ women. Nearly living, but not quite.
She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but no, thanks.’
He felt a flicker of irritation only marginally greater than the one of surprise. He had been confident enough in his power over her to expect her to accept. ‘Not even a moment to consider it, Kate?’ he questioned sardonically.
‘I don’t need to consider it.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘It’s not what I want from a relationship, Giovanni.’
‘What exactly do you object to?’ he drawled.
It hurt that he couldn’t see. ‘All the highs of infrequent passion aren’t enough.’ She shrugged. ‘It isn’t real, don’t you see?’
A muscle began to pulse in his cheek. ‘I haven’t heard you doing any complaining!’
She withered him a look. ‘That was different. That was never planned to be anything other than short-term, was it? The terms were laid out very carefully at the beginning. Surely you can’t have forgotten?’
But he had been certain that he would want to let go by now, and he had been wrong. For a man who was rarely wrong it had been a salutary experience. His anger had been spent, but not so his passion for her—that raged like the fierce storm it had always been. He drew a deep breath, knowing that this was as close to conciliation as he would get.
‘Look, just what do you want, Kate?’ he said evenly. ‘We still haven’t known each other very long. Surely you’re not holding out for living together—’
Her sharp, outraged intake of breath halted him.
