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was skidding into overdrive. Her focus had shifted now, a million rights wronged as a lens clicked and Rico’s perspective of the night shifted into focus. Suddenly the world was clearer, finally his indifference was explained—but the hope that shone in her eyes was doused in an instant by the utter contempt in his.
‘I was hoping to finish what we’d started.’ His lips curled cruelly around each and every word, singeing her hope with a vile hiss as he relentlessly continued. ‘What?’ he snapped as she recoiled in horror. ‘Did you really think it would be for anything else? That Rico Mancini could really want anything more from you?’
His hand snaked along the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in the mane of hair, pulling her towards him. But there wasn’t a shred of tenderness behind his movements, and his eyes were black and cruel, oblivious to her pain as he twisted the knife deeper in her bleeding heart. ‘We had unfinished business, Catherine. That is the only reason I came back, and don’t ever forget it.’
‘So now that’s out of the way, can I go ahead and arrange the wedding?’ She would not allow him to see how much he had hurt her. Proudly, defiantly she stared back, refusing to be intimidated, refusing to let him see the black hole her heart had once been. ‘Well, you certainly know how to propose in style, Mr Mancini.’
‘This is the only way you will get Lily, Catherine. The only chance we have against Antonia.’
‘So you’ll marry a woman you despise for the sake of your niece? A woman you loathe, who under any other circumstances wouldn’t be fit to be your wife?’
‘Absolutely,’ Rico responded, without missing a beat. ‘To keep my family safe I would do anything, and Lily is my blood, Catherine.’ He smiled then, but there was nothing reassuring about it. ‘You put yourself down, though, Catherine. I never said I loathed you, never said I despised you—in fact I have a grudging respect for a woman who knows what she wants, a woman who just like me is prepared to do anything to get it. Your words,’ he added, his hand still working the nape of her neck.
Inexplicably, after the most vile of accusations, the cruel deliverance of his speech, a stinging awareness remained, and his touch was a guilty pleasure she would never admit to.
‘Despite that rather uptight exterior you’re a hot little thing, aren’t you, Catherine? Maybe a marriage of convenience might have some compensations after all.’
Her first instinct was to lash out, to slap that taut cheek, to leave tangible evidence of the scorching shame that imbued her. But somewhere deep inside something moved her: somewhere deep inside she knew this was not the real Rico that she was witnessing now. The real Rico had held her last night, and the real Rico was so much more than the man goading her now.
It was the only reason she didn’t walk away.
‘I will think about it.’ As his eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to argue she broke in and something in her voice told him to keep quiet. ‘I will think about it,’ she repeated, and his hand dropped to his side. She was almost daring him to disagree, because one word, one more pompous show of arrogance, and this discussion would terminate.
Her back might be to the wall, but she would not be rushed.
‘I’m going to the hospital now, Rico. I’m going to speak with the doctors and find out how Lily’s doing and then I’m going to spend the day with her. Now, if you want to come with me then that’s your prerogative, but I don’t want to hear another word about marriage.’
He nodded, a small curt nod, and Catherine let out the breath she had been holding. She gave a small nod of confirmation back, relaxing a touch as she finally gained a semblance of control.
‘Of course when making your decision there is one other thing you need to consider.’
The viper was back, striking when her defences were down. Grabbing her wrists and pulling her towards him, Rico ran a hand over her stomach in a curiously possessive gesture.
‘If you are carrying my child, Catherine, you can forget any rubbish about being a single parent. You will put out of your mind in an instant any suggestion of a marriage of convenience followed by an amicable divorce. If you are having my baby, this marriage will be for ever.’
CHAPTER FIVE
SHE’D never felt more cold.
Even with the late-afternoon sun shining on her face, even with Lily in her dark-suited arms, soft and warm, smiling and cooing, utterly oblivious to her devastation, Catherine felt as if ice ran through her veins, shivering as she stood at the graveside, barely taking in the words as the coffins were lowered.
The service had passed in a dizzy, nauseating blur. The outpouring of grief she had witnessed from the Sicilian contingent—the frenzy of Marco’s relatives, wailing and sobbing, the sheer exhausting emotion that had filled the church and graveside—was such a contrast to the icy reserve that held her together, yet she envied them. Envied their honesty, the cathartic cleansing their outpouring must surely deliver. Instead Catherine’s emotions had seemed to implode within her, immobilising her as she stood dry-eyed at the graveside.
The newly dug ground, the vile earthy stench in her nostrils made her want to call out for them to stop, to say that someone, somewhere, somehow had made a terrible mistake, that surely this hadn’t been meant to happen, surely some master plan had gone seriously wrong. There was so much left unsaid, so much life still to be lived, so many wrongs to put right. But what good would it do? Even if it had been a mistake, even if the powers that be had this time got it wrong, it was a mistake that would have to be swallowed.
No rewind button to be pushed. Too much had been done to change things.
And somewhere in the abyss of her grief she could feel Rico’s hand holding hers, closing in around her icy flesh, squeezing just a little too tight, and she held on, loath to let him know just how much she needed him, but powerless to let go.
‘It’s over, Catherine.’
The crowd was dispersing, heading back to the endless line of black cars, but still she stood, not wanting that to be it, not wanting Rico’s words to be true. It was hard to fathom that this was how it all ended.
‘Lily needs to be fed.’ It was the first time she had spoken, and her lips shivered around the simple sentence. ‘Maybe I should…’
‘Jessica will take her home now.’ She watched him raise his hand, watched as Jessica came over, smiling awkwardly as she took her charge.
Jessica couldn’t yet meet Catherine’s eyes, and both women were uncomfortable in each other’s presence. The furious row with Janey and Marco was still uppermost in their minds, that last meeting too near to be relegated to history just yet, but too raw and painful to explore with any hope of objectivity. As Catherine handed Lily over she felt guilty at the relief that flooded her. Guilty at how relieved she was that Rico had been able to persuade Jessica to come back and care for Lily. Grateful she wouldn’t have to deal with Lily just yet, when it was still taking a supreme effort just to remember to breathe.
