Cesare disposed of her protests with a shrug and a matter-of-fact explanation. ‘I’m sure you look charming like that and, as the store had your measurements, it was simple to arrange for them to send over some clothes this morning and the necessary personal items. If there’s anything I have forgotten we can send down for it.’
‘You’ve bought me an entire wardrobe?’
He raised a brow and looked amused. ‘Is that a problem?’
Sam, who was sure it ought to be on principle, scowled.
‘A husband is allowed to buy his wife a few clothes.’
Sam gulped and voiced her doubts out loud. ‘Husband? I wonder if that will ever not sound strange.’
‘The unfamiliar can quickly become commonplace if you allow it.’
The comment drew a laugh from Sam.
He inclined his head in an attitude of enquiry. ‘That is funny?’
Sam extended a hand to touch his lean cheek and, biting her lip, drew back at the last moment. ‘The idea of there being anything commonplace about you,’ she confided huskily, ‘is not funny, it’s frankly hilarious.’
The silence between them stretched as Cesare appeared to study her face, something that Sam always found intensely unnerving.
‘I think, Samantha, that might have been a compliment…?’
‘It was,’ she admitted, then in an effort to defuse the tension that had sprung up between them she added lightly, ‘But don’t let it go to your head.’
She shuffled along the seat and leaned back into the soft leather.
Cesare made no comment on the space she had put between them, but he did suggest she could take a nap on the flight up to Scotland.
Sam, who was no longer amazed by his spooky perception lifted a hand to stifle a yawn. The effects of the last twenty-four hours were catching up on her, but she expressed her doubt that she’d be able to sleep during the flight.
She was wrong.
She closed her eyes just to rest them shortly after they took off and the next thing she knew Cesare was shaking her awake.
‘We’re here already?’
‘Time passes swiftly when one is snoring.’
‘I didn’t!’ she protested.
‘No,’ he conceded, ‘you just gently slobbered all over my shoulder.’
His eyes were so warm as they rested on her face that, despite the fact he wasn’t really seeing her, Sam subsided in blushing confusion. He, of course, looked predictably gorgeous, and Sam took the opportunity to stare. While she had to be guarded in her speech, at least she did not have to disguise her feelings behind clever banter or hostility when she looked at him. A sigh left her lips as her hungry gaze sank to his wide, sensual mouth.
Paolo, who had been travelling up front with the pilot, carried their luggage into the castle and spoke briefly to Cesare before vanishing into the gathering darkness.
Moments later Sam heard the chopper taking off.
She turned to look at Cesare and as their eyes connected she had to tell herself for the umpteenth time that day that he couldn’t actually see her, he just had very expressive eyes. Unable to look away, she was suddenly overwhelmed by shyness.
‘Which is ridiculous.’
Cesare lowered his gaze, tugged his tie off and asked, ‘What is ridiculous?’
‘Feeling like a virgin on my wedding night is ridiculous…because I’m not…obviously.’ Her hand went to her stomach.
Something flashed in his eyes, a strong emotion but one that Sam couldn’t define. ‘Do you regret it?’
She shook her head, confused by the harshness of his abrupt question.
‘Do you regret sleeping with me that night?’
Sam shook her head again from side to side. ‘No,’ she admitted huskily. ‘I don’t.’
Sam felt a flutter of panic in the pit of her stomach. This was the closest she had ever come to admitting the extent of her feelings for Cesare.
She closed her eyes and silently willed him not to press her further on the subject. If he did she didn’t know what she’d say. Sometimes just lately she was as surprised as him to hear the things that came out of her mouth.
When he didn’t respond she opened her eyes, instantly colliding with his dark stare. There had never been anything empty about Cesare’s sightless eyes. They were an accurate reflection of his emotions, and intelligence always shone in those obsidian depths.
She experienced a flash of reckless bravery and challenged, ‘Do you regret anything?’
If he were was a better man, Cesare reflected, he would.
‘I regret…’ he began slowly.
Sam’s fingers clenched into tight fists at her sides. She lifted her chin and forced a breath past the lump of despair in her throat.
Was she some sort of masochist? Why had she asked him? Why did she invite this?
And why wouldn’t he regret it? The one night of sex had cost him dear. Sleeping with her had thrown his life into total chaos—it had obliged him to give up his freedom and marry a woman that he barely knew.
‘Fine, I understand.’ Without looking at him she picked up a kettle, filled it from the tap and placed it with an unsteady hand on the hob.
‘I regret, Samantha, that your introduction to lovemaking was not…gentler and more considerate.’
It was as much the self-recrimination in his voice as the stilted delivery of his words that made her spin back in startled amazement.
‘I wouldn’t change it—any of it!’ she said fiercely.
‘And I regret that I contrived to have you sacked.’
Her lips quivered as she tried to smile, though it was not her idea of a joke and he was not smiling. ‘Very funny, but I think you overrate your influence, Cesare.’
‘Did losing your job not influence your decision when I proposed we get married?’
Her nose wrinkled as she recalled the frightful day. ‘I suppose it did,’ she admitted, still not seeing where this was going.
‘It was meant to and I do have that much influence. It took one phone call…’ Cesare knew he was taking a risk but it was best she heard it from him rather than finding out some other way some time down the line.
With the vows they had made still fresh in his mind he didn’t want to start married life with this deceit on his conscience.
‘You did that?’
He nodded.
‘Why?’
The bewildered hurt in her voice made him flinch. ‘My father was not around when I was growing up. I do not want that for my child. I would have moved mountains to bring about our marriage, Samantha. I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.’
‘And never mind whose dreams you trample over?’ A slightly hysterical laugh was drawn from her lips. ‘At least I know I wasn’t such a lousy writer.’
‘Sam…’
She lifted a hand and shook her head. ‘Not now, Cesare.’
‘Samantha!’
She heard her name, but didn’t stop as she fled the room. Then she broke down and wept, tears running unchecked down her face.
She had walked through several