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Because if he let himself, he could really come to care for her. Not as he did now—as someone he felt protective of, someone he was incredibly attracted to—but as someone he simply wanted in his life.
The thought had him standing, pacing to the window, stark naked and unconcerned with his nudity, his gait long and athletic, as if the adrenaline coursing through his veins had energised him.
There was risk here, the kind of risk he usually avoided like the plague. With a spine of steel, and panic surging in his gut, he reminded himself how temporary this was. He was leaving, just as soon as the wedding was over. And yet, even the thought of that turned his blood to ice. Which only served to underscore the urgency of his departure.
‘Good morning.’
Her voice wrapped around him like tendrils of silk, sending unwelcome sensations through his body and into his bones.
He turned slowly, steeling himself to look at her. ‘Hello.’
She sat up, the sheet falling to her waist, revealing her beautiful breasts. Good intentions be damned, he prowled back to the bed like a bee drawn to a wildflower.
‘You stayed.’ She smiled, putting a hand to his chest, fingers splayed wide.
‘I didn’t mean to.’ The words were unintentionally curt. ‘I fell asleep.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘Are you?’
‘Sure.’ She pressed a kiss to his lips. ‘This is my favourite way to wake up.’
He groaned inwardly. This was getting way out of hand. The sooner he left Catarno, the better. They both needed to get on with their lives and forget this had ever happened.
‘What will you do, after the wedding?’
The question, as she sipped her strong black coffee, caught her so completely by surprise that her hand trembled and coffee spilled down her front. She swore softly, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at her robe. Benedetto reached over to do the same, but she batted his hand away.
‘I’m fine. Just clumsy.’ She replaced the cup carefully. ‘Why do you ask?’ Her pulse was racing, her heart bursting with such an intense hope she found it difficult to speak. Her insides seemed to be bouncing around all over the place.
‘No reason,’ he responded with nonchalance, sipping his own coffee in a far more successful manner. ‘I’m going to fly out to Athens the following morning, spend a couple of days in my office there, then move on to New York. My boat, however, is still here, and can be put at your disposal, if you’d like to use it to get back to Spain.’
Amelia reached for the coffee cup so her hands would have something to do, so she could focus on something other than his words. There was nothing new here. He’d said again and again that he was leaving after the wedding, but that was so soon now, and she hated the thought of it. She forced a bright smile to her face. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it.’
She stood up abruptly, aware that she was acting strangely, that she was probably revealing far too much of her feelings and not able to care.
‘You don’t want to return to Valencia?’
‘To do what?’ she asked. ‘Is there any point in running away again?’
‘You had built a life for yourself.’
She nodded, digging her nails into her palms in an effort to control her rioting emotions.
‘So you plan to remain here?’
She turned to face him, the sun streaming in through the window behind her, highlighting her hair with natural gold.
‘What’s in New York?’ she asked instead, staring at him as though he were a stranger. Twenty minutes ago, they’d been making love as though they were one another’s salvation, their reason for being, and now he was calmly discussing exiting stage left of her life in two days’ time.
‘A company I’m buying. I’ll be there six months or so.’
You should come visit.
She waited for the invitation. Waited for him to say something, anything, that might suggest he was leaving the door open to something more happening between them. Even after his insistence that this was just sex, she hoped against hope, and it was then that she understood how desperately she really did love him. And how important it was to hide that from him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
