She heard a stranger using her voice, thanking him, and asking him politely to take the coffee tray away.
‘Certainly, madam. Is there anything else I can get you this evening—or your husband?’
And heard Rome say, ‘No, that’s fine. We have everything we need, thanks. Goodnight.’
She found she was repeating the words ‘everything we need’ over and over in her head.
When Rome came back to the sofa, she began to babble. ‘They think we’re married. Even though I’m not wearing a ring.’ She spread out bare hands. ‘See. Isn’t that absurd?’
‘Ludicrous,’ he said, and his voice was very quiet.
‘And you were right,’ she hurried on. ‘They’ve made a really good job of the valeting. Everything looks as good as new. And I reckon if we hurry we can still be back in London before midnight…’
Her voice tailed off with a gasp as Rome knelt in front of her, taking her shaking hands in his and holding them.
He said gently, ‘Cory, we’re not going anywhere tonight. You know it, and so do I, so let’s stop pretending.’
She heard herself say in a voice she hardly recognised, ‘Yes.’
He got to his feet, drawing her up with him, then lifted her into his arms as if she were some tiny featherweight and carried her into the bedroom.
The big shaded lamps were burning on each side of the bed, and the cover had been turned back. Rome put her down gently against the pillows and came to lie beside her. She was trembling, but she made no protest as he undid the sash of her robe and parted its folds.
He looked at her for a long moment, the dark face arrested, intent. Then he said huskily, ‘Mia bella.’ He raised her slightly, freeing her arms from the encumbering sleeves, then dropped the robe on to the floor beside the bed.
The long fingers trailed slowly across the swell of her breasts above the lace edging of her camisole, then cupped her chin, lifting her face for his kiss.
Her lips parted on a small sigh, welcoming him. The pressure of his mouth was slow and sweet as it explored hers, while his hands began their own journey of conquest, stroking the length of her slender body in one considered act of possession.
The silk she was wearing shivered against her skin at his touch. She felt him ease the camisole upwards, and closed her eyes as he drew it gently from her body and discarded it.
The room was warm, but she was suddenly cold, turning on to her side away from him, wrapping her arms round her body.
He put his arm round her, pulling her back against him, and she realised he was naked. And not merely naked, but deeply and powerfully aroused.
Rome put his lips against her throat, just below her ear, making the tell-tale pulse leap to the brush of his mouth. His fingers shaped the curve of her shoulder, and she trembled like a frightened bird under his hand.
He kissed her throat again, and the sensitive nape of her neck, moving the silky tendrils of hair aside with his lips.
He whispered coaxingly, ‘Take your hands away, mia cara. Don’t hide from me. I want to know everything about you.’
‘There isn’t a great deal to learn.’ She tried to make a joke of it, but her voice was too small and too breathless.
‘Oh, you’re so wrong,’ he told her softly. ‘I have to find out what you like.’ He let his lips travel down her throat to the delicate hollow at its base. ‘And what you may not like.’ He ran a tantalising finger down the centre of the back she kept turned to him, making her flinch and gasp. His hand moved round, closing on her hip for a moment, then drifting down to her slender thigh, where it lingered, warm, sensuous and quite deliberate.
‘And what you might enjoy if you tried,’ he whispered.
Her whole body seemed to shudder. Then she twisted away from him, swiftly, almost violently.
She said in a suffocated voice. ‘I—I can’t do this. I thought—but I can’t.’
Rome stayed still for a long moment, his eyes fixed thoughtfully on the long, vulnerable line of her back. Then he moved, too, taking the pillows and piling them up behind him. He reached for her, ignoring the small stifled sound she made, and drew her back beside him, holding her in the crook of his arm with her face against his shoulder.
He pulled the sheet over them, covering himself to the waist and tucking the embroidered hem across her breasts.
He said, ‘Is that less threatening?’
She said on a sigh, ‘I suppose.’ She hesitated. ‘You must think I’m a terrible fool.’
He dropped a kiss on her hair. ‘Don’t try to read my thoughts,’ he told her gently. ‘Because you’re way off target.’
‘Don’t you—mind?’
‘I’m disappointed, of course,’ he said. ‘But, ultimately, the decision was always yours to make.’ He paused, allowing her to digest that. ‘However, I’d be interested to know why you changed your mind. If you can tell me.’
There was a charged silence, then she sighed again, a small desolate sound.
She said, ‘You’ve seen how clumsy I am. I can hardly walk across a room without falling over my feet, or someone else’s.’
‘I saw you fall once because you were startled,’ he said. ‘That’s all, and scarcely a federal case.’
‘It’s not all,’ she threw at him. ‘I’m also too tall, too skinny, and my feet are too big.’
He said, ‘If we’re listing faults, my nose is too large, I’m seriously bad-tempered until I get my coffee in the mornings, and I sing in the shower even though I can’t.’
She said passionately, ‘Don’t laugh at me. This isn’t a joke.’
He said slowly, ‘No, I see that. But even if all those claims you make are true, why should that stop you making love with me?’
She buried her face in his shoulder. Her voice came to him muffled. ‘Because I—honestly can’t do it. I’m—useless in bed. A—a freak. I can’t bear you to know it, too.’
His breath caught in sheer astonishment. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him.
He said roughly, ‘What is this nonsense? Never let me hear you say such things again.’
‘Even when it’s the truth?’
‘And everything else is an act?’ Rome shook his head. ‘I don’t believe that, Cory. Not when I’ve kissed you—felt your body come alive in my arms.’
She said with difficulty, ‘It isn’t the—wanting. It’s what comes afterwards.’
He said quietly, ‘Didn’t you hear what I said just now—that I want to find what makes you happy?’
‘But I need to make you happy, too,’ she said. ‘And I can’t.’
Rome stroked the curve of her white, unhappy face with a gentle finger.
He said, ‘I’m really not that hard to please, mia cara.’
She said on a whisper, ‘But I wouldn’t want you to be kind either—or to make allowances.’ She thought with a pang of anguish, or laugh about me afterwards…
There was a silence, then he said, ‘Who was he, Cory? The man who made you like this? Because there must have been someone, and I need to know all of it.’
He felt her shudder again. She said, ‘Please, I don’t want to talk about it.’
His hand gentled the line of her jaw, traced her throat and shoulder.