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I basked in that look for several giddy, golden moments as I realised what I had said, and that I had no urge to take the words back. It felt good, to finally tell the truth. Not just to her, but also to myself.
And it made me realise that the answer to my panic, my confusion, my fears—over the last few days and weeks—had been there all along.
I loved Jessie. And she loved me.
‘I want you to stay with me, Jessie,’ I said, finally saying what I had wanted to say to her for weeks.
‘I...’ She blinked, several times, but the sheen of emotion in her eyes became guarded. ‘Let me think about it.’
I could not see what there was to think about. But I said nothing more as she scrambled out of my arms. Clearly she needed time to adjust to my momentous revelation.
‘I should go and take a shower. We’re late for the ball.’ She rushed over to pick up the broken shards of the vase, tidied away the other debris, still naked but for her bra and the torn panties, still glowing from our tryst. Still utterly adorable. ‘I’ll call Natalie, ask her to repair the hairdo then I should...’ She continued to babble about the practicalities of rehiring the stylist, getting the dress pressed and arriving at the ball before everyone realised we were missing, as she picked up the dress, folded it over her arm, then fled towards her bathroom.
I didn’t respond to any of it. I simply sat, sated, satisfied, stupidly pleased—with my revelation. And her reaction to it.
She was nervous, probably still in shock after the intensity of our love-making and my surprise declaration. But it was all good, I decided, as I heard the shower go on and finally managed to rouse myself from the couch, and dispose of the condom properly.
Once we got back from the ball, I would explain how we were going to proceed. That I did not want to lose her. That we were a couple now and I loved her. That this was not the end—it was a beginning.
The golden glow spreading through me became turbocharged, as I headed towards my own suite to get ready for a ball I was much more happy to attend now.
Because my time with Jessie would no longer end tonight.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jessie
‘JESS,YOULOOKabsolutely stunning. I can’t believe you’re here as Renzo’s date. Or that you didn’t tell me you two had become an item.’ Belle sent me a sweet smile, then wiggled her eyebrows at me, her expression full of excitement for me and my surprise date.
The guilty blush fired over my skin. I should have told Belle what was going on weeks ago. But my guilt over that was nothing compared to the turmoil of emotions which had been turning my insides to mush ever since I had seen the dress Renzo had had designed for me. Which had only got worse when he had made frantic, passionate love to me in my suite. And then...
‘I have created a new style for you, called the Well Loved Look.’
Those words had made me euphoric, because I could see the approval in his eyes. Hope had burst inside me, and for one blissful second, I had believed Renzo and I could have a future together.
But when he had added, only moments later that he wanted me to stay with him, reality had come crashing down on me.
How could we have a future, when we had never really faced our past? When he still didn’t know about the pregnancy I had lost. I loved Renzo, and I was sure, in his own way, he loved me. But I didn’t feel secure with him. How could I be sure he wouldn’t leave me, the way he had that morning so long ago, if I couldn’t even get up the guts to tell him how much he had hurt me once?
Even since we had arrived at the ball, my fear and confusion had only become more acute. Because this glitzy, glittering crowd, this lavish luxurious event had once been part of Renzo’s old life—a life he had stepped back into seamlessly as soon as we had arrived—but it had never been a part of mine.
The ballroom was on the top floor of the Belle Epoque palace which housed Dante Allegri’s famous casino the Inferno. Iron filigree balconies ran the length of the building, looking out onto the bay where moonlight glittered on the array of huge superyachts moored in the dock, and the lights of billion-dollar mansions dotted the coastline. A large marble staircase in the middle of the space led up to the stunning roof garden, where Belle and I now stood, complete with fountains and exotic plants, and lit by glowing torchlight. The beautiful people who surrounded us were either gorging themselves on cordon bleu cuisine and vintage champagne or dancing to an A-list rock band in the ballroom below—who usually filled out football stadiums.
Renzo had introduced me to the Italian billionaire Dante Allegri and his beautiful wife, Edie, earlier, but all I could think about as we met them was that they might be able to see my hair was not as perfect as it should have been, that my dress was still a little crushed, that my make-up had been hastily applied.
‘He looks so well, Jessie. Like his old self, but better,’ Belle murmured, the thoughtful observation only making the turmoil in my stomach worse. ‘You’re obviously good for each other.’
‘Do you really think so?’ I murmured, trying desperately to quell my growing anxiety—and control all the insecurities which had always been there, but which I had never really acknowledged until now.
‘Of course.’ Belle sent me a puzzled frown. ‘What’s wrong, Jessie?’ she asked, her gaze full of concern, because she had always been able to read me so easily.
‘He wants me to stay with him, Belle, but I don’t know if I can.’ I forced the words out, as my gaze landed on Renzo on the other side of the roof garden talking to Dante and Alexi—and the yearning, the longing, swelled in that empty space in the pit of my stomach, which only he had ever been able to fill.
Light gleamed off his dark hair, and his tall frame in the tailored tuxedo reminded me of the man I had first met—but even though I knew he was so much more vivid and intense now than that reckless playboy, the panic still clawed at my throat.
Renzo glanced around, almost as if he could feel my eyes on him. Our gazes connected and the familiar burst of heat surged through me as his lips curved in that devastating smile. But the sharp, cruel yank in my chest—caused by the truth I had never been able to admit to him—only become more vicious.
‘Why can’t you? When it’s so obvious you love him,’ Belle said, so simply, I felt tears sting my eyes.
