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“Yes, I suppose she is, but I don’t look at her and want to rip her clothes off.”
Georgia’s eyes widened. “But you do with me?”
His eyes bore into hers. “What do you think?” There was no pleasure in his voice. If anything, he sounded desperate.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her heart cold. “I know it’s just sex. You love your wife.”
He was very still but then, he nodded. Which was exactly the opposite of what she’d wanted him to say or do. She’d needed reassurance. For him to tell her that of course it meant something beyond being just sex, even if that wasn’t a prelude to love. She wanted to mean something, not just as a woman to have sex with because he couldn’t be with his late wife.
Emotions made her throat hurt and her eyes sting.
“Anyway,” she said, hoping he’d get the hint. “I’m tired.”
Maybe he wanted to stay and talk this through some more, maybe he didn’t, but her words had him standing, stepping towards the door. “Thank you. For…that.”
She shook her head. “Please don’t thank me. It makes me feel like a hooker.”
His eyes pushed through hers, he shook his head once, and then left the room, a grim expression on his face that stayed with her all night, while she tried to sleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THIS WAS DIFFERENT TO last time. To their first time together. Tonight, he’d gone into it with his eyes wide open. He’d sworn fidelity to Bianca too, as though that mattered. As though that wasn’t a total kick in the guts to both women. Bianca wouldn’t have wanted that from him. And it sure as hell was a bastard move to Georgia. Dante stood beneath the shower as water rained down on him, a sense of despair unravelling inside of him that was all the more profound because he felt as if there was no escape.
Georgia was pregnant with his child and he’d maneuvered her into a situation of cohabitation, rather than risk their child being in this world and not a part of his life.
Fine.
That made sense, to him, in many ways.
But the practicalities of it were harder. So much harder. How could he live with her when he felt like this? How could he want her in this way, while also wishing he’d never met her?
He flicked off the water but stayed standing there, naked, staring at the lines of grout, as though it might eventually give him the answers he sought, when really, there were no answers. It was a predicament without a solution. He just had to try not to keep messing up.
The sound of the shower was the final insult. She heard the distant strains of water running and knew he was washing her off his body. How could they go from such euphoric intimacy one minute to this kind of isolation and despair the next? And how was she going to live with this?
It was cowardly but he left early for work the next day too, plans to share a coffee in the morning something he’d come up with the day before, whilst trying to incorporate Portia’s assessment of his situation into his life. But it had seemed simpler then. He’d genuinely believed he could find a way to communicate with Georgia that wouldn’t involve sex. He’d thought he could control the desire he felt for her.
Except, it had been a long time since he’d been with a woman, and having her right there was too tempting. He had to accept the fact that he’d weaken; but he had to make sure it worked for her too. This wasn’t just about him; Georgia had her own needs and wants and the only way Dante could come through this without hating himself completely was to respect her desires as well.
And so, when he came home that night, he was armed with a new approach. Something different to try. He had no idea if it was crazy or sensible but here in London, in the house he’d shared with Bianca and Livvie, he knew one thing only: the guilt was going to kill him.
“You said you want to travel?” He asked, stepping into the lounge room wearing a suit with the jacket removed and draped over one arm.
Midway through reading a maternity magazine, Georgia turned to face him, her heart leaping into her throat at just how damned handsome he was. She looked away again quickly. “Yes.”
“Would you like to go back to Italy?”
She blinked quickly. “I—,” her tongue darted out, licking her lower lip. “Portia invited me to your family property, on the weekend. I…said yes. I know that’s strange but she was adamant?—,”
“Portia is a force to be reckoned with. And yes, she told me in no uncertain terms that you would be there. My attendance is, I’m advised, optional. Probably conditional on me not being a total asshole.”
Georgia flinched and her eyes shifted to his, emotions in them he didn’t understand.
“You don’t need to do this.”
“Do what?”
She sighed. “I’m not going to get into a rollercoaster with you.”
