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‘Yes. And it’s doing well. Better than even I predicted.’ He turned his head to look at her. ‘But Carlo was right about one thing. The price was too high.’
She knew he wasn’t talking about the financial implications. ‘I was selfish,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t think about your responsibility to everyone else. I only thought about my needs.’
‘With reason.’
‘I thought, It’s just another business deal. I never thought about the pressure on you. I never once thought about all the people depending on you for employment. You never talked to me about it.’
‘I didn’t want to talk about work when I was with you. I was crazy about you. I’m still crazy about you.’ His tone was rough and decidedly unsteady. ‘I’ve been crazy about you since the first day I saw you in your running shorts, shouting at Santo for slacking.’
There was no mistaking his sincerity and her heart stopped because she realised how badly she’d misunderstood the situation. ‘On our wedding day, I believed that you loved me. Whenever I was with you, I believed you. But we were together less and less. By the time I discovered that I was pregnant, we were spending virtually no time together. The fact that you didn’t come when I asked you to was the final straw. I saw it as evidence that you didn’t love me.’
‘I thought marrying you proved how much I loved you. I committed that cardinal male sin of taking too much for granted.’ He leaned forward and kissed her mouth gently. ‘It’s possible that I was a touch arrogant.’
‘Possible?’ She smiled against his lips because that statement said everything about his own healthy sense of self-worth. ‘And that single gesture—marrying me—was supposed to last me a lifetime?’
He eased back from her. ‘I wasn’t as bad as that. I gave you daily proof of my love for you. I sent you endless gifts.’
‘Actually, your PA sent me endless gifts,’ Laurel murmured. ‘Do you think I didn’t know that you said, “Send my wife flowers”, and she arranged it?’
‘I chose you jewellery.’
‘From a selection sent to your office to minimise the inconvenience and generally reduce the impact on your working day. I’m not saying you weren’t generous,’ she said hastily. ‘I’m just saying that none of those things made me feel secure.’
‘They should have done. They were supposed to.’
‘Why? They weren’t personal. They were generic gifts. Gifts that had probably earned you undying gratitude in the past but to me they had no meaning except to remind me that you’re a very wealthy man. And that there is a whole harem of women out there just waiting to exploit the first crack in our marriage. Are you seriously telling me that I was the first woman you have ever given jewellery to?’
He cast her an incredulous glance because this was a topic they’d never really touched on and he clearly didn’t think they should be touching on it now. ‘No, I’m not telling you that. But you were the first and only woman I have ever loved.’
‘And I was supposed to just know that.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t know how badly you’d been let down. Had you told me—’
‘I would have made myself even more emotionally vulnerable.’
‘A little more insight into the workings of your mind might have prevented me from getting things so badly wrong. Not that I’m blaming you for my failings.’
‘I admit that my past experience has made me cautious and I can’t do anything about that but I didn’t see anything when we were together to make me think that I was that important to you. Gradually you spent more and more time at work.’ She curled her legs up, feeling vulnerable just talking about it. ‘And then I reached out to you. And you didn’t have time for me. I wasn’t a priority and that convinced me you didn’t love me. And that is why I left, Cristiano. That is why I never had the confidence that our relationship could survive. You never gave me any indication that it could.’
And part of her—that horrid part of her that she hated so much—still wouldn’t let her just take his declaration of love and believe in it without question. She wished it could have been that easy and for a million other women it probably would have been. To hear Cristiano Ferrara say ‘I love you’ had been the pinnacle of ambition for many women.
For her, they were just words.
Frustrated with herself, Laurel slid off the bed, wrapped herself in a robe and walked onto the terrace. The fact that he let her go so easily told her a great deal about the way he was feeling now that the depth of her insecurities had been exposed.
Fear was a cold, creeping sensation over her heated skin because she understood finally that the future of their marriage relied not on her ability to bear children, but her ability to trust him not to hurt her.
What did she mean, he’d never given her any indication?
Cristiano lay back on the bed, hands hooked behind his head, thinking back over the two years of their marriage and forcing himself to confront some uncomfortable facts.
He’d bought her jewellery. Flowers. Extravagant gifts that he’d believed had demonstrated the depth of his feelings. All arranged via the efficient channels that she’d so astutely identified.
The thought made him squirm.
She’d always thanked him, but what time and effort had he put into those gifts? He’d given her what he thought she wanted instead of what she really wanted and the harsh truth of that shamed him.
Guilt, an almost familiar companion since she’d arrived back in Sicily, was sharp and painful.
