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‘I know that.’ Catherine whistled through gritted teeth. ‘But I truly think I’d be a better mother if I could work—even part-time.’
‘Because we really need the money?’
His sarcasm wasn’t helping.
‘Because I really need something else.’
‘No, Catherine.’ He shook his head fiercely. ‘This is a pathetic attempt to show me you’re not after me for my money—a half-hearted attempt to show me you actually liked your life.’
‘I did like my life.’ She was shouting now, as she confronted this impossible man. ‘I liked it a damn sight more than I like it now. I’m tired of being waited on, tired of staff hovering and attending to my every whim, tired of rattling around a massive house all day with nothing to do. I want to work, Rico, I want to cook my own meals now and then or ring for a pizza if I feel like it…’ she shook her head in sheer frustration at his noncomprehending expression, desperate for him to understand. ‘Rico, I just want to get used to my new family in my own way, to try and feel like a normal wife and mother.’ For a tiny slice of time she seemed to reach him, registered something in his eyes that bordered on understanding, and she stood trembling for a moment, willing herself to continue, to bring things out into the open. ‘I know what’s worrying you, Rico. I know what you’re scared of and I promise you that if I did go back to work then I wouldn’t be like your mother.’
For an age there was silence. Catherine scarcely recognised the dark stranger staring back at her. ‘That goes without saying.’ His voice was a snarl. ‘Because at least my mother knew how to treat her husband. My mother managed to make an effort. But tell me, where does my mother come into this, Catherine? What crap have you been listening to now?’
‘There’s no need to swear.’
‘Oh, there’s every need,’ Rico snarled. ‘You bury your head in magazines, you insist on having
Antonia over, despite my express orders…’
She jumped back slightly, eyes widening as she realised Rico knew.
‘You think I don’t know that Antonia has been here? You think I don’t know that you have let her in this house?’
‘She’s Lily’s grandmother.’
‘She’s my father’s putana. Nothing more, nothing less.’
His anger was palpable, a simmering rage that might explode at any moment, but Catherine was past caring. She had to get through to him—couldn’t carry on this sham of a marriage. And even though Rico had crossed that line, the boundary that normally kept their rows decent, and opened the borders to a place Catherine wasn’t sure she was ready to explore, she knew now was the time—knew there had to be changes if ever they were to move ahead.
‘I want to go back to work, Rico.’ Catherine’s voice was firm. ‘I’d still be here for you and Lily.’
‘You’re not here for me, though, are you?’ His words were like pistol-shots. ‘You haven’t been a wife to me since that ring was put on your finger. And you’re certainly not here for Lily. You’re lying up here, mooching around and feeling sorry for yourself. I’ve tried—my God, I’ve tried—to give you space. I’ve tried to understand you’re grieving for your sister, and the wrench all this has been, but you don’t make things easy.’
‘Antonia said that your mother—’
‘Don’t mention her name in the same breath as my mother,’ Rico roared. ‘I can just imagine what Antonia said—just imagine the lies she’s been feeding you when you’ve let her in. You’d rather believe her than your husband? You are my wife, Catherine, and you’re going to start acting like one. You will go and have a shower, do your hair, and tonight we will go out.’
‘No.’ Her response was instant. Going out was the last thing she wanted to do tonight. ‘Please, Rico, I really don’t feel well.’
Instantly his expression changed, his anger evaporating, his face a picture of concern. ‘What is wrong?’
‘I just…’ She hesitated a fraction too long, and Rico’s grip tightened around her wrist as she tried to walk away.
‘Just what, Catherine? Come on—you will tell me. If you are sick I will call a doctor.’
She almost laughed—almost, but not quite. A doctor was the last thing she wanted or needed right now. A simple kit from the chemist would be more appropriate. Oh, God…A bubble of panic welled inside her as she imagined his face if she told him the truth.
Imagined his features hardening as she confirmed what he had suspected all along—that she had set out to trap him.
‘I don’t need a doctor.’ Shrugging his hands away, she headed for the bathroom.
‘But if you are ill…’
‘I’m not ill, Rico. I just…’
‘Your period?’ It seemed strange for someone so overtly chauvinist to say the word so easily; she had expected a rather more vague attempt—but then Rico was making great strides in being a New Age guy at the moment, rolling up his sleeves each evening and bathing Lily with an enthusiasm Catherine wished she could muster.
Turning, she gave a wan smile. ‘It’s due; that’s why I was having a lie-down, I just didn’t feel so good.’
