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‘I hate shopping.’
‘I believe you’ve mentioned that to me once.’
‘Have I?’
‘It may have been post-coital conversation in the early hours of the morning when we were in Scotland.’ His voice was husky and amused. When he thought of those intimate moments in the stillness of a snowy night, when they had talked about anything and everything, he could feel his libido rising to the occasion and reminding him of just how much he was going to enjoy seducing her back into his bed.
More and more, he got the tantalising sensation that what she wanted to box away was still there, a simmering physical pull that matched his. Why was she so keen to deny it? Was it because she’d come to the conclusion that to indulge in sex with him was no longer acceptable despite the situation they were in because she needed an emotional attachment he was incapable of giving? Had she succumbed once and decided that once was enough? Had she thought it through at all? Underneath all that speculation lay the uneasy notion that she subconsciously saw herself walking away from a marriage in search of the fairy-story ending, maybe not immediately but sooner rather than later.
Was he being over-imaginative? Leandro didn’t know because she was the very essence of everything that was mysterious about the opposite sex even though she could be as transparent as a pane of glass.
If she wanted to lock those memories away then he’d determined that he wasn’t going to let her and he wished he could see her face now as he dropped that perfectly innocuous remark in a voice that was easy-going, casual and reeking of innocence, but he didn’t want to make a point of it.
‘Don’t worry. I guarantee you’ll enjoy the experience and to answer your question—Selfridges.’
Celia lapsed into silence. Post-coital conversation... She wished he hadn’t reminded her of those because how she had luxuriated in them, loving the darkness and the quiet and the lazy chat that was so easy and languid in bed, naked bodies pressed together, warm and content.
Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of sadness for having made the mistake of falling crazily in love with a guy who was incapable of loving anyone, she blinked and stared out of the window at yet another grey day.
She wasn’t aware of Leandro reaching out until she felt the curl of his fingers around hers and when she swung round to look at him, she was bowled over by the gentleness on his face.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ he said roughly.
In that very instant, Celia made her decision.
She would never find the love she wanted with Leandro but shewouldhave support and affection. It might not have been on her wish list when she was young and filled with dreams about her future, but she was going to marry him and they were having a baby and it could have been a whole lot worse.
And if he didn’t and never would love her?
The option of pulling back, of trying not to go further down the road of giving him her heart, now seemed naïve and futile. What would happen in that scenario? He would eventually drift away from her. He would turn to other women to find physical closeness. She had debated telling him that she wouldn’t marry unless he promised not to stray, but had known that that would have been crazy unless they became lovers once again. Not knowing what to do, she had remained paralysed, but now...?
Those fingers entwined with hers would have to be enough. She would never tell him how she really felt because she would always want to hang onto her dignity, but she could no longer fight the hold he had over her.
Was it the same for him?
He hadn’t come near her since they had left Scotland, but if she didn’t risk finding out whether there was any semblance of attraction left between them, then she would regret the omission for ever.
She squeezed his hand without looking at him and then left her fingers linked with his. Finally, she turned and smiled weakly.
‘If you say so.’
‘We’re here.’ He nodded to the busy entrance.
Celia breathed in long and deep and together they headed into the department store.
She’d reached a crossroads and was going to make the very best of where she was. She was going to love this man and if he hurt her, then she would accept the body blow.
They went directly to the designer floor. Celia had only been into Selfridges a couple of times and never anywhere near the designer section, which was out of bounds moneywise for her.
He held her hand and moved with confidence, ignoring eager looks on salespeople’s faces, asking her what sort of things she liked to wear and then telling her that anything baggy was out of the question.
‘Why?’
‘Why would you hide your figure?’ He slid appreciative eyes across to her and she blushed. ‘It’s amazing.’
She remembered the way he’d made her feel. Sexy and beautiful and provocative. He’d opened up a whole new side to her and it was exciting to think that she might go down that road again.
Would she?
