‘But I do trouble myself, Cesare,’ she retorted. ‘It will defeat the whole object of my … of my decision to marry you, if my father were ever to realise Simon had gambled his shares away.’
‘Of your sacrifice, I am sure you meant to say,’ Cesare drawled derisively.
‘Don’t attempt to put words into my mouth, Cesare!’ Robin threw back, her eyes flashing deeply purple. ‘If I had meant to say sacrifice, then I would have done so, I can assure you!’
Yes, he was sure that she would, Cesare noted. Robin’s frankness was one of the qualities he most admired about her.
‘The significant part of your previous statement concerns the fact that your father might realise,’ Cesare told her dryly. ‘But there is absolutely no reason why he should,’ he assured her. ‘Simon sold the shares to maintain his gambling obsession, I bought the shares from the casino owner, who happens to be an acquaintance, through my broker—’
‘How convenient!’ Robin couldn’t resist her sarcastic rejoinder.
Cesare’s eyes darkened warningly. ‘I bought them,’ he repeated evenly. ‘On our wedding day they will be gifted back to you. At which time you are perfectly at liberty to destroy all evidence of them ever having been out of family ownership,’ he completed with finality.
‘You really do have all of this worked out, don’t you, Cesare?’ Robin observed.
Not all of it, no—Cesare knew that he certainly had not been prepared for Robin Ingram, nor the desire he felt to make love to her every time he was with her.
As he did now!
‘Perhaps it is time we went to our respective bedrooms,’ he bit out tersely. ‘I have several business meetings to attend in the morning, and I need to read some papers tonight before going to sleep.’
Robin was surprised at the abruptness with which Cesare was bringing an end to the evening. She had been prepared for—had expected—a repeat of last night’s lovemaking before the two of them parted.
Was she just a little disappointed that Cesare felt no such inclination?
Of course she wasn’t!
Was she?
Well … maybe a little, she conceded reluctantly, as she placed her empty brandy glass firmly down on the coffee table. Which was pretty stupid of her. This wasn’t a love affair; she was being forced to accept Cesare’s marriage proposal!
‘Which bedroom would you like me to use?’ she prompted tartly.
His mouth twisted wryly. ‘I would suggest the one that adjoins my own, but I accept that might be misconstrued too!’
By whom? Herself? Or Marco’s nursemaid?
Not that it mattered. The truth was that Robin was the one in danger of spending a sleepless night this time, as she imagined a naked Cesare in the bedroom along the hallway from her own—meaning she would probably be feeling as irritable tomorrow morning as he had this evening!
‘A chaste kiss goodnight is permissible, however,’ Cesare murmured mockingly as he watched the play of emotions on Robin’s face.
The unattainable Robin Ingram most definitely wanted him physically!
He gave a satisfied smile, his own disappointment no longer as uncomfortable now that he knew Robin would be in the bedroom along the hallway from his own tonight, suffering the same sense of deflation.
‘A chaste kiss goodnight!’ she echoed. ‘No, thanks. I think I’ll pass,’ she said. ‘If you’ll just tell me which bedroom I’m to use, I’m sure I can find my own way.’
‘Do not be childish, Robin,’ Cesare chided softly as he crossed the room to her side.
Her eyes sparkled angrily as she returned, ‘I said I’ll pass on the chaste kiss, thanks!’
‘I was referring to the fact that you have pulled me up about the politeness of showing a guest to her bedroom, not your reaction to a chaste goodnight kiss,’ Cesare told her, his rebuke rewarded by the flush of embarrassment that coloured Robin’s cheeks.
‘A guest, Cesare?’ she repeated unbelievingly. ‘I would hardly call myself that.’
‘Nevertheless, for tonight that is exactly what you are,’ he insisted tautly.
‘Fine,’ she accepted tersely.
It was not fine. It was far from fine. But it was all that Cesare could do for this evening.
Marco’s nursemaid, Catriona, who came from their native Sicily, had been with Carla from the day of Marco’s birth. As Cesare expected one day to take Robin and Marco back to Sicily, if only for a visit, he considered that his wife’s reputation should be unsullied by any gossip which might take place between Catriona and her family. His sharing his bedroom with Robin before they were married, even for the night, was definitely not acceptable.
‘The goodnight kiss does not have to be completely chaste.’ Cesare offered throatily, standing very close to Robin once he had shown her to one of the four bedrooms in the suite—his room, Catriona’s and Marco’s nursery taking up the other three.
Robin’s lids narrowed as she looked up at him, slightly unnerved by his proximity, able to feel the warmth of his body so close to hers, the smell of his aftershave tantalising her senses. ‘Either a kiss is chaste or it isn’t, Cesare,’ she replied. ‘I really don’t think there can be degrees of chastity!’
His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘Perhaps I was a little hasty earlier …?’
Robin felt her earlier bad temper evaporating as she saw the way Cesare’s eyes had darkened to black, his lids slightly lowered as that gaze locked hungrily on her slightly parted lips.
He really had been serious about the necessity of not scandalising Marco’s nursemaid by the two of them sleeping together tonight! And she had thought he was just paying her back for his own feelings of frustration the night before.
‘No, you were perfectly correct, Cesare,’ she told him. ‘It really wouldn’t be appropriate for us to sleep together.’
‘Who said anything about sleeping?’ he said huskily.
Robin laughed softly even as she gave him a light push in the chest that took him back out into the hallway, quickly closing the bedroom door behind him to lean back against it, almost able to feel his brooding presence on the other side of that door. Her own feelings of frustration were nowhere near as deep now that she knew Cesare wanted her too …
Robin awoke with a feeling of complete disorientation, taking a few seconds to realise where she was—in a bedroom in Cesare’s suite—let alone the reason she had woken so suddenly.
It was still dark outside, and it was obviously still the middle of the night, so she couldn’t understand what—
And then she heard it again—that faint, totally unfamiliar sound of a baby.
Marco!
Robin lay in the bed for several minutes longer, hearing the sound twice more and wondering if Catriona had woken and gone in to Marco, or if he was alone. It wouldn’t hurt to at least check, now, would it?
She pulled on her panties and dress, not bothering with her stockings or her shoes, padding along the hallway in her bare feet to listen outside Marco’s bedroom door.
He seemed to be talking softly to himself now, rather than actually crying, which was something—although Robin still wasn’t sure whether or not he was alone. She couldn’t hear another voice, but perhaps Catriona was being quiet in an effort to get the little boy to go back to sleep.
Robin opened the nursery door quietly before peering inside and noticing that the room was lit by a