‘You mean you’ve walked up in all this?’ Emily forced a smile of her own. ‘That’s incredibly kind of you.’
‘Och, it’s no so bad.’ He indicated the waders. ‘These belonged to my late uncle. He was great on the fishing and Auntie Maggie always said they’d come in handy.’ He paused. ‘Did you know someone’s left a vehicle here? I don’t remember seeing it last night.’
‘I drove it here from the airport,’ Raf’s voice said from behind her.
Emily hadn’t heard a sound from the stairs, but she saw Angus glance past her, his face changing to an expression of astonishment that was almost comical. Except she didn’t feel like laughing.
Instead, she tensed as Raf came to stand beside her, his arm encircling her and his hand resting on her hip in a gesture of deliberate possession.
He was not dressed, unless she counted the robe he was casually holding around him as clothing, and she was never likely to do that.
‘Buon giorno,’ he drawled. ‘May we help you in some way?’
Angus opened his mouth, tried to speak, failed and began again. ‘I—I’m sorry. I—I don’t mean to intrude, but I thought—I understood that Miss Blake was here alone.’
‘That is indeed what she planned originally,’ Raf said softly. He drew Emily slightly closer to him. ‘But I decided to surprise her.’
Angus’s ears suddenly went pink, indicating that the probable nature of the surprise was not lost on him.
Emily, realising the floor was not about to open and swallow her as she’d prayed it might, found her own voice, ‘Angus, this is my husband, the Count Di Salis.’ She paused, allowing him to assimilate this, then continued, ‘Rafaele—Mr McEwen’s aunt looks after the cottage for—for your friends. He was—concerned that I was here by myself in this weather.’
‘So I heard as I came downstairs, and I am glad that I can reassure him that you are perfectly safe, mi amore.’ Raf was smiling. ‘You have had a long walk, my friend,’ he added pleasantly. ‘Believe that I shall be sure to inform Signora Albero, when I see her next, how well you look after her tenants.’
‘Aye, well—thanks,’ Angus managed as he turned away. Then paused, his hand going into an inside pocket. ‘I thought you might like a Sunday paper, Miss—er, Mrs…’
‘Contessa,’ Raf supplied.
Angus nodded, gulped and handed over the folded broadsheet. ‘And it said on the radio just now that the weather’s going to get worse before it gets better,’ he added glumly. ‘I thought mebbe I should mention that too.’
For a moment they watched him trudge off, then Raf drew Emily back into the cottage, firmly closing the door.
‘So what was that all about?’ She turned on him hotly. ‘Why not have a banner made with SHE’S MINE in huge letters?’
‘It will not be necessary. He got the message. I regret his disappointment,’ he added lightly. ‘But the exercise will do him good.’
‘He came here to help,’ she protested. She shook her head. ‘You can’t believe, can you, that someone might actually go out of their way—just to do a kindness?’
‘I think it unlikely, yes.’ Raf followed her into the kitchen. ‘For a man to walk so far in these conditions to see a beautiful girl with no hope of reward? Never.’
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t judge other men by your own dubious standards, signore.’
‘You do not think I can be kind?’ He shrugged. ‘On the other hand, you have not granted me much opportunity to prove otherwise, carissima.’
‘If you’d wanted to be kind, you’d have stayed away.’ Emily spooned coffee into the cafetière with fierce precision. Then paused. ‘Would you like something to eat?’
Raf burst out laughing. ‘You are a girl of contradictions, cara. Would you not prefer to let me starve?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But coping with a corpse wouldn’t be practical.’ She hesitated again. ‘We could have poached eggs on toast, perhaps.’ She added stiltedly, ‘I—I thought I’d roast the chicken this evening—if that’s all right with you.’
‘But of course.’ He paused. ‘So we have an empty afternoon before us,’ he went on softly. ‘How can we occupy it, I wonder.’
‘You could always start by putting some clothes on,’ Emily suggested tautly.
‘Perhaps.’ He paused. ‘Or maybe I might persuade you to take yours off instead.’
Her breath quickened. ‘No!’
He leaned against the archway. ‘That is a very definite negative, carissima.’ He sounded faintly amused. ‘I can see why you scared my lawyers, especially poor Pietro.’
She glared at him. ‘This is not a joke. I have no intention of performing some kind of striptease in broad daylight in order to please you.’ Her voice was ragged. ‘And, if you push it, I’ll walk out of here and to hell with the snow. I’d rather freeze in a drift than be degraded like that.’
‘My sympathies are with the drift,’ he returned coolly. He studied her for a moment. ‘I am surprised that you find the idea of undressing in front of a man to be degrading, Emilia.’ He added sardonically, ‘I remember a time when you seemed eager to do so.’
Oh, God, she thought, you would remind me of that awful night. But you’re still wrong. Because I never felt like that—never wanted to—not even with Simon…
Aloud, she said frigidly, ‘That was with the man I loved, signore. Not you. Besides, it was the middle of the night.’
‘Daylight, lamplight, starlight,’ he said reflectively. ‘Does it really make such a difference?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It does.’ She looked at him, lifting her chin. ‘I realise that I can’t prevent you—helping yourself to me at night, but my days are going to be my own and I want that understood.’
There was a loaded silence, then Raf gave a brief shrug. ‘Very well. You may have them, if they are so important to you.’ He paused. ‘But your nights will belong to me. Is it agreed?’
She gave a small jerky nod.
‘Then maybe you too could make a concession, carissima,’ he said softly. ‘And, tonight, show me a little of the kindness you spoke of so eloquently a few moments ago.’
He turned away. ‘Now, to demonstrate my good faith, I will get dressed.’ He ran a musing hand over his chin. ‘But I shall wait to shave, I think, until later.’
Digesting the implication in his words, Emily’s throat tightened. She said in a falsely bright voice, ‘Then I’ll hold breakfast for you.’
‘Grazie.’ He inclined his head to her with a touch of mockery. ‘You are becoming a wonderful wife, carissima mia,’ he added softly. And went.
Emily leaned against the sink. He had allowed her to win, she thought shakily. But she was not deceived. Because it was only a very minor triumph in the war of attrition between them.
Besides, he’d made it clear that he expected ultimate victory. That nothing else would do for him.
She said under her breath, But I won’t let that happen. I—I can’t…Because it would change my life for ever. Whereas, once I cease to be a novelty, he—he will just walk away.
She stared through the window at the bleak and dazzling whiteness outside.
But wasn’t that what she really wanted—for him to go? she asked herself desperately. And somehow could find no answer.
It was a strange